Although Reiji had officially become Hanzō of the Salamander's apprentice, he hadn't seen that shameless guy even once since their parting in the office over a week ago.
In his place, a special Jōnin named Mizukuma had been conducting the lessons.
Although Reiji had officially become Hanzō of the Salamander's apprentice, he hadn't seen that shameless guy even once since their parting in the office over a week ago.
In his place, a special Jōnin named Mizukuma had been conducting the lessons.
To be honest, Mizukuma wasn't much to look at—plain and a bit on the ugly side, with a big nose and a conspicuously broad forehead he tried to hide.
Every time Reiji went to class, he couldn't help but worry that the small tuft of carefully combed, thinning hair on Mizukuma's head might blow off like a dandelion in the wind.
Reiji once asked him why he didn't just shave it all off and rock a bold, clean look. Mizukuma had sighed and replied in a melancholic tone, "This—this isn't just hair. It's a man's last bit of pride."
Later, Reiji learned that despite his mature appearance, Mizukuma was only eighteen—still in the prime of youth.
The room Hanzō had arranged for Reiji was located in a high-rise building at the center of the village, right next to Hanzō's office building.
Reiji's room was on the very top floor.
While the lighting and ventilation were excellent, this was Amegakure, not Konoha.
With the constant rain, this country barely saw the sun all year round, and drainage on the top floors was several levels worse than on the lower ones. That difference had led to a strange custom here.
Most residents lived on the lower levels, while the upper floors were mostly used to store coffins.
The only upside was the fierce-looking statue just outside Reiji's room—a snarling human face with an absurdly long tongue sticking out, just big enough for a person to sit on.
But Reiji wouldn't dare sit on it. The thing turned slick when it rained, and he feared slipping off and splattering on the ground like a dropped rice cake. If he somehow came back to life after that, explaining himself would be a nightmare.
It had been a week since that first meeting with Hanzō. During that time, Reiji had been learning the ways of the ninja world under Mizukuma's guidance.
Only after understanding these rules did Reiji realize how outrageous it was to have blasted Isamu with the Great Fireball Technique. No wonder the guy nearly exploded with rage.
Turns out, that kind of move was considered downright disgraceful in the ninja world. No self-respecting shinobi would use it.
In fact, if someone did pull a stunt like that, it was taken as a deep personal insult.
Thinking of this, Reiji silently mourned for Isamu—for three seconds.
"Knock knock... knock." A rhythmic knocking at the door interrupted his silent tribute.
Reiji sighed, offered a quick mental apology to Isamu, and promised to finish the mourning another time. Then he got up and opened the door.
Standing there in a raincoat over his Jōnin uniform, Mizukuma stepped inside and casually set the breakfast he'd brought on the table.
"Eat up. Once you're done, we're officially starting chakra refinement today." He pulled out a chair and sat down at the table.
From inside his clothes, he pulled out a teapot and, like some kind of magician, produced a teacup, filled it with steaming tea, and placed it in front of Reiji.
Watching Mizukuma's fluid, practiced movements, Reiji's mouth twitched slightly.
He had to admit, the guy was surprisingly considerate—what the locals might call "yasashii".
At just eighteen, he was already a special Jōnin—clearly talented, if a little goofy.
If it weren't for his prematurely aged face and tragic hair situation, he might've already been married with kids.
Reiji took the cup from Mizukuma, thanked him, and immediately dug into his breakfast.
Seeing Reiji eating so enthusiastically, Mizukuma didn't stay quiet either. He launched into his usual chatter.
"A week has passed. You've got the basic ninja knowledge down, so starting today, we'll begin chakra extraction training."
"My clothes are soaked," Reiji mumbled through a mouthful of food.
Mizukuma rolled his eyes without a hint of restraint. "Of course you don't know. I'm all too familiar with Jashin-sama's cult. The chakra extraction method they teach is a watered-down version!"
"Huh?" Reiji swallowed everything in one go, eyes wide with surprise.
There's a watered-down version of this? How did I never hear about that?
"Forget it. You don't need to know what that means. Just pretend you've never learned chakra extraction before."
With that, Mizukuma stood up, walked to the bed, and sat down cross-legged.
Honestly, Reiji's bed was basically a leaky waterbed. The room was so damp, it was a miracle he hadn't caught something yet. If he weren't immortal, arthritis alone would've wrecked him by now.
Mizukuma felt the damp mattress and frowned ever so slightly, muttering under his breath.
"Kandachi-sama is unbelievable. How is anyone supposed to live in a place like this? No, I'm bringing this up with Hanzō-sama today. He's got to change this room."
Grumbling, he sat down on the soaked bed anyway and took the posture for chakra extraction.
"Watch closely. I'll demonstrate it once."
With that, he slowly closed his eyes.
"The most important thing when extracting chakra is focus. Empty your mind completely, and combine your spiritual energy and physical energy to generate chakra."
Reiji finished eating, pulled a chair over, and sat at the edge of the bed, watching attentively.
Soon, a blue glow of chakra began to rise from Mizukuma's body, flowing smoothly along set pathways across his skin.
Reiji, who was no longer a complete rookie, knew that letting chakra flow externally like that took a serious toll on both chakra reserves and stamina.
After all, not everyone was like Naruto, who could explode with power and recklessly draw on the Nine-Tails' chakra.
Seeing this, Reiji shook off his distractions and began mentally tracing the chakra flow paths in earnest.
"Got it?" After a while, Mizukuma asked, his forehead beaded with sweat.
Reiji nodded quickly.
Once focused, his memory was exceptional. In that short time, he had already memorized the entire flow pattern.
Seeing him nod, Mizukuma released the hand sign, and the blue chakra around him vanished instantly. He let out a long breath—clearly, this demonstration had been a strain on him.
"Your turn," Mizukuma said, stepping aside.
Reiji nodded again, sat cross-legged on the bed, and mimicked Mizukuma's form, pressing his hands into the "Ram" seal. At the same time, everything he'd just learned about merging spiritual and physical energy surfaced in his mind.
First, you combine the two to form physical energy. Then, using specific techniques, that physical energy is converted into chakra.
There are two main challenges in this process—challenges that define the differences between ninja.
The first is converting physical energy into chakra, also known as chakra creation. Some ninja can precisely transform every bit of physical energy into chakra.
Others lose a portion during the process, with only part of the physical energy becoming chakra.
That's the key difference between Mizukuma's formal extraction technique and the cult's stripped-down version.
The second challenge lies in converting chakra into jutsu.
Some ninja can control the exact amount of chakra needed to perform a jutsu, wasting nothing.
Others lack that control, inevitably wasting part of their chakra.
These two hurdles—conversion and usage—are what separate the average from the elite.
Sitting cross-legged, Reiji let his mind drift through the chakra extraction steps. Inside his body, a warm current began forming from his limbs and core, flowing along a strange route.
This! Reiji blinked in surprise. This was way faster than the method those cultists taught him. At the same time, his entire body began to feel a wave of fatigue.
He knew right away—it was the cost of burning stamina.
But it wasn't something he needed to worry about. He was immortal. That didn't just mean he couldn't be killed—it meant he couldn't die from exhaustion either.
Put simply, his body had infinite stamina.
Understanding his own condition, Reiji silently halted the chakra extraction and just kept up the hand seal for show.
The reason? Nothing special—he simply didn't want to reveal his abnormal abilities while he was still weak. Especially not to his Sensei, Hanzō of the Salamander, the so-called demi-god of the ninja world.
In Reiji's memory, the guy might've been absurdly strong, but his brain? Not so much.
First, he went and declared war on the Land of Fire, Earth, and Wind all at once during the Second Great Ninja War, pushing Amegakure to its limits and getting half the village wrecked.
Then he conspired with Danzō to kill Yahiko, sending Nagato into full-blown darkness.
Sure, Hanzō survived both times. But what about his Ame-nin underlings? They all kicked the bucket.
Thinking about it, Reiji took in a sharp breath and sighed internally.
I'd better keep my head down and stick to being an advisor. The ninja world is way too dangerous—especially if you're trying to survive under Hanzō of the Salamander. That alone bumps the danger level up by fifty percent.
If only I'd fled to Konoha. Peaceful, safe, great living conditions, and sunshine whenever you want. Unlike the Land of Rain, where it pours all day, every day. I swear, it's so damp here I'm starting to worry I'll get shingles in my butt crack!
Another week passed. It had been over a month since Reiji arrived in Amegakure.
That day, Reiji was still sitting cross-legged on his bed, "diligently" practicing chakra extraction. Mizukuma, as tireless as ever, kept a stern watch over his every move.
Suddenly, a rare knock broke the quiet. Mizukuma frowned slightly, stood up, and walked over with a displeased look to open the door.
"Hanzō-sama!" Mizukuma exclaimed, then immediately stepped aside respectfully and opened the door wide.
Standing outside was the tall, imposing Hanzō of the Salamander, masked and expressionless, flanked by three Amegakure shinobi. One of them was Kandachi, whom Reiji recognized.
Reiji got up at once, standing obediently at the bedside.
Hanzō's eyes swept briefly over Reiji before he strode over to the table and sat down. He gestured for Mizukuma to come over.
"It's been fifteen days. How's the training going?"
Mizukuma started sweating. "Uh… Hanzō-sama, Reiji has been working very hard on chakra extraction. He's been diligent, never slacking off even a little."
He wanted to say something more to praise Reiji, but the truth was, after all this time, Reiji's chakra hadn't improved—in fact, it had gotten worse. Mizukuma couldn't figure out why.
So he doubled down, watching Reiji's training like a helicopter parent desperate for his child to succeed.
What he didn't know was that Reiji, determined to play it low-key, had plenty of experience outwitting his parents as a kid, and even more practice slacking off during his adult work life.
Simply put, Reiji's slacking skills completely outclassed Mizukuma's supervision.
The result? After fifteen days, Reiji had actually regressed.
Hearing Mizukuma's response, Hanzō gave a blank nod. In his view, in a world like this, training hard was a given—it didn't deserve praise.
"How much chakra does he have now?" Hanzō asked again.
"Uh..." Mizukuma froze, sweating even more.
"He's mastered the extraction technique... He can now draw chakra anytime, anywhere!"
Seeing Mizukuma's stiff expression and his clear attempt to dodge the question, Reiji couldn't help but smile to himself, feeling a flicker of gratitude.
He knew that if he didn't show some kind of talent, all the privileges he was enjoying would be stripped away—his daily meals, his centrally located room, and Mizukuma's one-on-one training.
It was harsh, but it was reality. People without value weren't worth investing in. Still, that suited Reiji just fine—freedom was what he wanted.
Being valued, burdened with expectations, pushed under pressure—that's just another form of losing your freedom.
So far, he hadn't met anyone in this world worth giving that up for.
As Mizukuma kept dodging the question, Hanzō's brow began to twitch. The air in the room suddenly felt like it was freezing over.
"Answer me! Has his chakra increased at all?"
Seeing that Hanzō of the Salamander was clearly angry, Mizukuma didn't dare dodge the question. He shrank like a withered eggplant and answered meekly,
"H-Hanzō-sama... no, there hasn't been any increase."
"But... it's still too early. And the environment here—it's really not ideal for focused training..."
His voice grew quieter with every word.
He knew he shouldn't be saying so much. After all, he was just a temporary instructor.
"Enough."
Hanzō's voice was cold and sharp, cutting Mizukuma off immediately. If it weren't for Mizukuma's reputation as an exceptional instructor, any other Chūnin daring to argue would've been dragged out and executed already.
"Reiji. Channel your chakra into this."
With a blank expression, he tossed a piece of chakra test paper onto the table.
Seeing the look on Hanzō's face, Kandachi—standing nearby—was already grinning inside.
Having followed Hanzō for the longest time, Kandachi knew exactly what to look for when Hanzō was angry.
Normally, Hanzō always wore a cold, unreadable expression. If irritated, he might furrow his brows ever so slightly. But when he was truly furious or deeply disappointed, he went right back to that same expressionless face.
And when that happened, he exuded a suffocating aura that warned everyone to stay away.
Just thinking about it made Kandachi smirk. From the moment he met Reiji, he'd disliked the cunning brat, thinking he lacked any sense of true ninja spirit.
In his eyes, a ninja should be like Hanzō—strong, honorable, and decisive.
So when Hanzō broke tradition and took Reiji as a disciple, it lit a raging fire of jealousy in Kandachi's heart.
Now, watching Reiji get the cold shoulder, Kandachi felt a wave of satisfaction—like biting into chilled watermelon on the hottest day of summer.
Reiji, unaware of Kandachi's thoughts, silently nodded. With his usual innocent expression, he stepped forward and picked up the chakra paper.
Under Mizukuma's anxious gaze, Hanzō's icy stare, and Kandachi's mocking grin, Reiji put on an act—pretending to struggle as he "channeled" his chakra. In truth, he didn't use even a sliver of it.
All eyes were fixed on the chakra paper.
The next second, Kandachi's lips curled into an uncontrollable smirk. Joy lit up his ugly face.
It didn't get wet! Hah! So it's not the "water" Hanzō values most!
And not just that—there was no reaction at all. No burning, no tearing, no wrinkling, no crumbling!
Hahaha! This guy's a rare one—completely attribute-less! What a moron!
The others in the room reacted too. The bodyguards all shot Reiji sneering looks, their contempt written all over their faces.
Hanzō's eyes narrowed. His face stayed blank, but a flicker of disappointment deep in his gaze gave him away.
This kid's got nothing going for him but a bit of cleverness.
With that thought, Hanzō abruptly stood up and strode toward the door without a word. Kandachi and the other guards quickly followed, their thoughts far from innocent.