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The ninjas from the Hidden Leaf Village had already reached the borders of the Land of Rain. But Hayato still had no clue—he was completely focused on his training.
After this period of intense physical training, Hayato's muscles were absolutely jacked. The guy looked like a total gym beast. Honestly, if he dyed his hair blonde, he could easily pass for a Super Saiyan at a cosplay convention.
And thanks to the Land of Rain's never-ending downpours and overcast skies—you could go a whole month without seeing the sun—his skin hadn't even tanned, let alone gone bronze. Not even close. The weather here was just that gloomy.
Chakra gathered in his fists as Hayato tightened them, then repeatedly smashed them against the massive boulder in front of him.
Since he didn't have any formal training methods, he'd been winging it, using chakra the same way martial artists in wuxia novels use inner power, or like how fighters in Dragon Ball channel "ki."
Every training session left him battered and bruised, but with his freakish healing abilities, Hayato just kept pushing through.
Honestly, at this rate, calling him a ninja didn't really make sense anymore—he was more like a full-blown martial artist.
"Haah!"
Hayato roared as he gathered chakra into his right fist, then slammed it into the huge rock.
Boom!
Cracks spread across the surface, and with a loud crash, the whole thing shattered, crumbling into a pile of rubble about the size of his fists.
"Phew." Exhaling sharply, Hayato ignored the blood dripping from his hands and called it a day.
He cleaned up his wounds a bit, but his insane healing had already kicked in. Even though his hands were still in pretty bad shape, the bleeding had already slowed, and the cuts were starting to close. Still, with broken bones, even he needed at least a night—maybe more—to fully recover.
When he got back to his place, he saw two people standing outside his front door. They looked like regular townsfolk, nothing special, so Hayato didn't think much of it. Just odd, really—no one had ever come to visit him before. Not once.
He had no idea what these two were here for, and honestly, he didn't really care. All he wanted was to keep living his quiet, routine life. Eat, sleep, train, repeat. Sure, the training was exhausting, brutal, and boring as hell, but feeling himself get stronger, little by little—that made it all worth it.
Because only by getting stronger could he take control of his life. Real strength—the kind you fully command—is the only thing that truly protects you.
Even though turning into the Hulk made him stronger, Hayato didn't like the out-of-control rage that came with it. Yeah, he appreciated the power in his bloodline and even felt lucky to have it. But losing control? That was a whole different issue.
"M-Mister…"
The people waiting for him were an old, skinny man and a scrawny guy in his thirties. As soon as they saw Hayato—especially his blood-covered hands—they started trembling like leaves.
In the end, the old man, voice shaking with fear, finally spoke up.
"Hm?" Hayato looked at them.
The moment they met Hayato's cold, emotionless gaze, their legs gave out. Thud! Both dropped to their knees, pressing their heads to the ground and shivering nonstop.
The legend of the "Green Demon" had taken deep root in the hearts of the locals. The name alone was enough to send chills down people's spines. That's why the two of them prostrated themselves like that—scared out of their wits.
Hayato frowned at the sight.
Some people might enjoy having others kneel to them, but not him. He preferred normal, down-to-earth conversations. Problem was, ever since he came to this world, "normal" wasn't in the cards for him.
He knew it would be nearly impossible to change how others saw him, so he didn't waste energy trying. Sure, he sometimes felt lonely in between training sessions, but he'd just throw himself deeper into his routine.
"Talk. What do you want?" Hayato asked in a low voice.
"M-Mister… It's—it's the Mikki Gang. T-They've been causing trouble on your turf, so… so…" the old man stammered.
"Huh? My turf?" Hayato frowned. What the hell? Since when did he have turf?
"....."