"Kazekage-sama."
The Third Hokage's previously dark expression brightened instantly upon seeing the newcomer, his face breaking into a warm smile as though genuinely delighted.
"Welcome, welcome."
"It must have been exhausting traveling all this way. Next time, perhaps we should hold the Chūnin Exams in Sunagakure instead."
"Not at all… the Chūnin Exams are best held in Konoha. At your age, traveling far might be too much for your health," the Fourth Kazekage replied with a meaningful tone. "It would be wise to settle on a Fifth Hokage sooner rather than later."
The Third Hokage didn't seem to catch the implication in those words and instead said wistfully:
"Don't treat me like some old man. I still plan to work another five years."
After a round of "friendly" pleasantries, the two Kage took their seats.
The other daimyō and nobles soon followed, taking their places. Surrounding the Third Hokage and Kazekage were rows of important figures; seated right next to the Hokage was the great shinobi-world tycoon, Mr. Hattori.
"I hereby declare the Chūnin Selection Exams officially open!"
"Everyone, enjoy the show."
At the Hokage's announcement, the first match's contestants stepped onto the field.
"Hyūga Neji versus Uzumaki Naruto."
"Begin!"
"Naruto, the last time we fought seriously was at the Hyūga clan's front gate, wasn't it?" Neji spoke calmly instead of rushing forward. "Even though I know there's still a vast gap between us…"
That had been the only other time, besides today, that he'd fought Naruto—and to this day, Neji still didn't understand exactly how he had lost. It had been a crushing defeat.
"I want to see if I've caught up to you now."
"Don't hold back, Neji." Naruto smiled at him. "Show everyone here your full power."
"This match is your personal exhibition. I'll play along and let you perform."
"Of course, if you do poorly, I'll fail you—and then you can go back and train twice as hard."
At the words "twice as hard," even Neji felt a chill down his spine.
"Neji is the genius who has inherited the Hyūga bloodline most perfectly to date." In the stands, Hyūga Hiashi was instructing the young girl beside him. "Hanabi, study this fight carefully—surpass him."
"Yes, Father." The girl named Hanabi nodded, watching the two intently.
"Kakashi, this is the first match between our students." Guy flashed a thumbs-up, his dazzling white teeth gleaming. "Neji is the most talented taijutsu user I've ever seen. Even a student trained by you couldn't beat him."
"…Huh?" Kakashi scratched his head, looking confused. "Are you talking to me?"
"As expected of my lifelong rival!"
"Byakugan!" The veins around Neji's eyes bulged, giving him a fearsome appearance.
With a single step, he vanished—reappearing instantly in front of Naruto.
At that moment, a massive Eight Trigrams diagram seemed to bloom beneath Neji's feet.
The Hyūga clan's signature taijutsu—Gentle Fist.
"Eight Trigrams: Gentle Fist!"
Neji's hands moved like lightning, thrusting toward Naruto's body at incredible speed.
Gentle Fist—also called "chakra point striking"—drove the user's own chakra into the opponent's body, damaging internal organs and chakra pathways. Even a single hit could cause serious harm.
"Such speed… such power." Even Hiashi, head of the Hyūga clan, couldn't help but praise him.
At only twelve years old, Neji's speed and strength already surpassed most of the Hyūga.
But—
Pa! Pa! Pa!
Neji was strong, but his opponent was also a taijutsu specialist. Every strike Neji threw was parried precisely by Naruto.
His attacks were being read.
"It's only just begun!"
Neji's arms spread in a white-crane stance. In the next instant, his speed doubled, and he lunged at Naruto again—fingers now spear-like as he struck.
"Two Palms!"
"Four Palms!"
"Eight Trigrams: Sixty-Four Palms!"
The rapid, pounding blows sent Naruto flying into the air.
"What… just happened?" Many spectators hadn't even seen the strikes—Neji's speed was so great that by the time Naruto's body lifted from the ground, all sixty-four hits had already landed.
"What's this 'palm' technique? It ended in the blink of an eye!" The Land of Fire's daimyō exclaimed from his VIP box, tossing his folding fan aside. "Elder Danzō, didn't you say that little Nin-Nin kid would definitely win?"
>"Please, my lord, be patient—the match has only just begun," Danzō replied calmly, his tone brimming with confidence in Naruto. "An attack of this level could never harm him."
That's my trump card—there's no way Gentle Fist alone could defeat him.
I know his true strength better than anyone.
"Naruto's not even using one-fifth of his power yet. Just watch."
Danzō's assurance quieted the daimyō.
"Hey, isn't this already jōnin-level fighting?" In the stands, a number of shinobi couldn't help but exclaim as they watched.
Has the Chūnin Exam really gotten this competitive?
"Stop pretending, Naruto. An attack like that wouldn't even scratch you—barely worth calling a tickle."
"Tch." Naruto clicked his tongue—and with a puff of smoke, vanished.
Just a Shadow Clone.
"Konoha Whirlwind!"
With a sharp gust, a whip-like kick came for Neji.
No way to dodge! The distance was too close. His only option—
"Rotation!"
The Hyūga clan's famed "absolute defense."
Neji spun at high speed, becoming a white human top. Naruto's kick smashed into the spinning shield, and both of them were thrown in opposite directions.
"That technique—" Seeing Rotation, Hiashi couldn't remain seated.
Rotation was a move only the main family could learn. For Neji, a branch member, not only to have learned it but to execute it…
Unless—
Hiashi's heart jolted violently at the realization.
He had mastered it on his own.
A terrifying talent… a true genius.
"Warm-up's over. Now I can get a little serious." Naruto dusted off clothes that weren't even dirty and crooked a finger at Neji.
"Let's keep going."
"Eight Trigrams—!" Neji didn't speak further. With a tap of his foot, another green Eight Trigrams diagram appeared—this one several times larger than before. His actions alone were his answer.
His speed climbed yet another level. Now, only ninja specialized in taijutsu could follow his movements—ordinary people saw nothing but blurs.
If one could slow the fight down, they would see that Neji's strikes flowed like a dance—graceful, natural, and beautiful, like a great white moth fluttering elegantly through a field of flowers.
"One Hundred and Twenty-Eight Palms!"
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