The young boys and girls all turned their heads. Sideways glances came along with whispers — not too soft, not too loud — just enough for Yang Xing to hear.
"Conquer the world? This guy's nuts."
"Yeah, no doubt. I remember, his parents died in the Second Shinobi World War. A kid without parents can't turn out right… his brain's clearly messed up."
"Hahaha! Someone who might not even graduate, saying the Hokage is insignificant? Totally brain-dead."
The noisy chatter trailed off as their figures receded, leaving only two behind.
The snot-nosed boy stared blankly at Yang Xing, who still looked as calm as ever, gazing distantly toward the horizon.
"Yang Xing!" The boy sniffled before asking, "Do you really want to conquer the world?"
"Yeah."
"Then… can I do it with you?"
Yang Xing glanced sideways, frowning slightly before turning his eyes away. "Come back when you've grown hair."
"Hair? Why?"
"You talk too much, brat. You're only four years old, and you're talking about conquering the world? You'd better hurry home. If you don't, your mom will come looking for you."
"Oh, right! My mom told me she's making my favorite food today. She said I should come home early. Bye, then!"
Watching the four-year-old skip off happily, Yang Xing let out a quiet sigh. In this past year, while training his chakra — by sheer dumb luck — he had ended up stuck with this kid trailing after him. And this four-year-old was unbelievably clingy. Even if the boy might accomplish something great in the future…
With his personality now? Forget it.
More important was his "Strife System" on the phone. He needed to figure out every detail quickly and focus on working toward his grand ambition.
Turning away from the little hill, Yang Xing walked off without looking back.
Summer. An unknown day of an unknown month in an unknown year.
The Third Great Ninja War had broken out. Countless battles between nations raged endlessly along the borders of the Land of Fire, threatening Konoha's safety at every moment.
The Academy's curriculum had become extremely urgent. Even four-year-old children were required to study basic self-defense. As for eleven- and twelve-year-olds, in such an era, it was not only necessary but mandatory for them to take on important tasks in the larger war.
In short, today was the second day after Yang Xing discovered the strange changes in his phone.
That morning, a teacher entered the classroom. As a special instructor of the Hidden Leaf, entrusted with the village's future, he had to give everything he had to properly train these children.
But when he walked in, what he found was unusual.
The atmosphere was unnaturally quiet. At the center of the long rows of desks, a patch of empty seats stood out. Only one person sat there.
If he recalled correctly, that student was named Yang Xing. A strange one, and honestly, the most troublesome of all his students.
"Uh, did something happen?" The teacher forced a smile, his gentle gaze landing on Yang Xing.
Yang Xing glanced around the room, noticing the obvious distance between him and the other students. He shrugged. "I don't know."
"Well, anyway, let's start class." The Academy teacher sighed lightly, taking in the whispers scattered around. Then, with a stern expression, he addressed the room:
"As you all know, this is the rule of the Academy. Starting tomorrow, you will be divided into different groups, different squads. From then on, training will be done under squad leaders. Each squad will also be assigned a new instructor."
"Squads? Really?" The announcement made the classroom erupt.
"I heard the instructors are at least jōnin-level. Some might even be special jōnin!"
"Awesome! Finally we'll get to learn some real jutsu."
The students, full of excitement, couldn't hold back their cheers.
"You're celebrating too soon." Adjusting his glasses, the teacher's face hardened as he glared at a few particularly rowdy brats. "Even if your instructors are elite, their training won't be a joke. Don't think this means graduation is guaranteed, or that you'll be handed powerful jutsu. Fail their training, and you could be sent right back to the Academy."
"Yeah, yeah, we get it!"
The students shouted in unison. Their earlier cheering shifted into hushed conversations, though their excitement remained plain to see.
Everyone was fired up — everyone except one.
Yang Xing frowned deeply at the mention of squads.
Being split into teams wasn't a good thing.
Obviously, he'd end up separated.
Then again, maybe that wasn't bad. Compared to his classmates, he had the mind of someone in his twenties. How could he really mesh with a bunch of little brats? In a way, it might actually work in his favor.
Besides, given his current skill level, even graduating was uncertain.
Yang Xing's brooding expression caught the teacher's eye.
Under normal circumstances, someone at Yang Xing's level would never graduate. But given the war, the Academy had no choice but to make exceptions.
"Still… pairing this kid with others…" the bespectacled teacher muttered under his breath, a wry smile tugging at his lips. His gaze lingered on Yang Xing. Taking advantage of the students' chatter, he walked casually toward him.
When Yang Xing snapped out of his thoughts, he found the teacher's smiling face right in front of him — a smile blooming like a chrysanthemum.
The teacher leaned down, his voice kindly. "So then, Yang Xing… is there anyone you'd prefer to team up with?"
"Eh?" Yang Xing frowned, brushing his arm dismissively across his chest. "To me, these squad assignments are just kids playing house. Nothing but dead weight holding back my progress."
The teacher with glasses: "…"
Right. He'd been like this ever since he joined a year ago.
"I mean hypothetically. If you could choose, is there any squad, or maybe a particular instructor, you'd want?" The teacher kept smiling, but inside he vowed to himself: Konoha's future lies in these kids. Not one can be left behind.
But instead of being moved, Yang Xing looked stunned. "I get to choose? That special? Is this some kind of exception? Or… is this a hidden rule? Wait, you're not scheming something, are you?"
"Scheme your head! And where the hell are you learning all these terms? Hidden rules? Hidden rules my ass!" The teacher's fist clenched, itching to smack the brat on the head. This kid was always the biggest headache.