Minato Namikaze had revived.
And he didn't look too happy.
Because he heard himself getting mocked by that little brat NPC.
As a total newbie to live streaming, the thought of the real world watching his embarrassing moment made Minato want to dig a hole and disappear.
Sure, he had a good temper—but he was still only nineteen. He had pride. And now it felt like he had lost face in front of the whole village.
Just then, Uchiha Kei's voice sounded in his ear: "Relax, Minato. Sure, you died pretty badly, but the viewers couldn't really see what happened. The fruit barrage and flashy effects basically turned the entire live feed into visual noise. All they saw was light pollution and some angry trash talk from an NPC. That's it."
"Actually, people are kind of impressed—some even admire you. Lasting a whole minute under that kind of bombardment? That's ridiculous."
The sarcasm in his tone was obvious. He couldn't help but question how much weight the 'Yellow Flash of the Leaf' title really held.
But Kei was right. Though the audience saw Minato get steamrolled, the storm of fruit-themed attacks had completely flooded the screen. No one could make out what was going on.
Still, the fact that Minato lasted a full minute in that chaos had blown people's minds. Viewers in the real world were losing it—some shouting exaggerated phrases like "Sugoi!" to express their shock.
The stronger the shinobi, the more stunned they were. Even they couldn't guarantee surviving for ten seconds under such pressure, much less a full minute.
That included even the proud Uchiha clan members. They had all activated their Sharingan to get a clearer view and, precisely because they could see more, they were even more amazed by Minato's endurance.
Inside the Hokage's office, Homura Mitokado and Koharu Utatane were stunned. Hiruzen Sarutobi took a puff of his pipe and said with unrestrained praise, "As expected of Minato. That was incredible. To last a full minute against something like that—even I would've struggled unprepared."
The two advisors stared at him in surprise.
Hiruzen waved it off. "I said unprepared. If I were ready, it'd be a different story. But in a sudden attack like that, even I wouldn't last longer than Minato."
Homura nodded solemnly. "True. The Flying Thunder God Jutsu is extremely effective in emergencies. Minato's still not at his peak with it, but when he fully masters it, he'll be a Flying Thunder God master on par with our sensei."
Hiruzen shook his head. "Why just 'on par'? Why not surpass him?"
That surprised both advisors. Koharu asked, "You mean Minato might exceed his own teacher, the creator of the jutsu?"
Hiruzen didn't answer directly. "I think their sensei would be proud. After all, he once had high hopes for us too."
The room fell silent.
Sometimes, digging too deep doesn't bring joy—only disappointment.
————
"Dear viewers, what you've just witnessed was the highest difficulty level in 'Fruit Ninja.'"
"Yes, our celebrity ambassador Minato Namikaze triggered the game's hell difficulty—the kind of trial designed for Kage-level shinobi or those of equal strength."
"It's a mode made specifically for legends like the Hokage."
"And our Minato, at just nineteen years old, charged straight into it. He may have fallen in the end, but that one minute of resistance was a glorious moment for all of us. It was the pride of every shinobi in the Hidden Leaf!"
"So let's give Minato Namikaze a standing ovation, a roar of applause! Let me call this one minute—'The Legend of the Yellow Flash!'"
Uchiha Kei's voice soared as he narrated the moment, and the live band jumped into a blazing hot BGM.
His words, paired with the music, ignited the audience. They didn't even know why they felt so pumped—but the energy was contagious. People are creatures of emotion. Once the mood is set, even the calmest can't help but get swept up.
Modern marketing.jpg.
Though Minato was still inside the game, the livestream was interactive, and he could clearly hear what was being said outside. That's when he realized he had accidentally triggered the hardest difficulty.
And that was when Uchiha Kei quietly explained the game's hidden rule: the speed at which you destroy the first cherry tree determines your difficulty level.
Minato had instantly destroyed the tree using the Flying Thunder God Jutsu—a speed that even most Kage would struggle to match. Naturally, he triggered the highest difficulty.
Kei hadn't expected that. He thought Minato would just rush in and slash the tree. That would've put him at a Jonin-level challenge—still tough, but manageable.
Instead, Minato showed off—and got hammered.
Now that he knew the reason, Minato was a little embarrassed. He had shown off on purpose—he was young, and being flashy in front of a crowd was only natural.
And this was a textbook case of flexing too hard and getting burned.
Luckily, Uchiha Kei managed to save the narrative, spinning the disaster into a noble demonstration of the game's highest level—and even boosted Minato's image as the Yellow Flash. Talk about a clutch PR win.
Riding that hype wave, the game restarted. This time, Minato moved at a normal pace and chopped down the cherry tree with his katana.
The mocking lines from the bratty NPC still played—but the difficulty was way lower.
There were still plenty of fruit enemies, but with far fewer of them, Minato had way more room to move. And more space meant more opportunity for a space-time jutsu user like him to dominate.
Even without fully mastering the Flying Thunder God, Minato started putting on a show—flashing between fruits, teleporting nonstop, slicing through plant after plant. He brought the Yellow Flash flair back with style. The keyword: speed.
That handsome face and graceful combat style made the audience erupt.
Especially the young women—Minato was lethal on the battlefield *and* in their hearts. Their screams filled the air, eyes sparkling like hearts. Watching from afar, Kushina Uzumaki was both proud and slightly jealous. After all, it wasn't fun watching your boyfriend attract so much attention.
As for Minato himself, the outside noise faded away. He'd entered the same state he had at the end of his first illusion game session.
In other words—
Fighting. Feels. Amazing!!!
That was Minato Namikaze in his truest form.
Even though the enemies in "Fruit Ninja" were just abstract fruit-plant hybrids with ridiculous effects, the combat was surprisingly immersive. And it scratched that pure battle itch.
With that atmosphere in full swing, Uchiha Kei's voice rang out again—this time switching into pitch mode.
"To all the shinobi here for the launch, by now you've probably realized what this 'Fruit Ninja' illusion game really means for you—and for our whole Hidden Leaf Village."
"That's right. 'Fruit Ninja' is the Uchiha clan's gift to the entire Leaf!"