"Why admit defeat? Didn't you volunteer for this graduation assessment?"
Minato's expression held genuine surprise. The Third Hokage had told him beforehand to take this exam seriously, but before the first move was even made, Lock was already asking to forfeit. It didn't make sense.
Around the arena, the spectators murmured in confusion. Some scoffed, others frowned. According to what they'd heard, Lock wasn't the type to quit so easily.
But Lock just answered bluntly:
"Why fight when I know I can't win? I'm not the type to stick around just to get beaten up."
"Huh?"
Minato blinked, thrown off by the reply. "You've never fought me before—how can you be so sure? Didn't Kakashi win his match? You requested this assessment alongside him, didn't you believe you had the strength?"
Lock shrugged. "A real shinobi can gauge an opponent's strength at a glance. The moment I saw you, I knew—I can't beat you. So why waste energy?"
Minato's eyes widened. He studied the boy before him, incredulous. Lock wasn't even a genin yet, but he spoke like a veteran who had survived a dozen campaigns.
From the stands, Jiraiya's voice rang out. "Unbelievable! Did that brat really say that?"
Orochimaru's lips curled. "Absurd as it sounds coming from him… there's logic in it. He isn't entirely wrong."
The crowd's reaction was divided. Many dismissed Lock's words as cowardice, a shameful excuse that made him unworthy of the "genius" title. But among those who truly understood Minato's ability—the Sannin and the Hokage—there was no laughter.
Minato exhaled and tried again, voice patient. "You don't have to defeat me. The requirement is only to last five minutes. Win or lose, if you endure, you pass."
Lock tilted his head. "Just five minutes? That's it?"
"Yes," Minato confirmed, though unease flickered across his face.
"Fine." Lock clapped his hands lightly. "I'll do it."
The audience stirred again, unimpressed. Compared to Kakashi's cold defiance, Lock seemed calculating, even sly. Some of the onlookers muttered that geniuses shouldn't scheme to get by—they should blaze forward and fight like Kakashi had.
But those who knew Namikaze Minato's true ability stayed silent. To face him at all was already daunting.
Lock inhaled deeply, then called out, "Alright… I'll start!"
He knew his limits. There was no way he could defeat Minato—not even close. His only chance was to delay, to dodge, to survive.
Shuriken gleamed in his hands, and with a flick of his wrists, he sent them flying in a deadly arc. The weapons whistled through the air, angles crisscrossing from every direction.
Minato drew a kunai, his movements clean and fluid. Clang, clang, clang! He deflected each shuriken with effortless precision, then surged forward, golden hair trailing behind him as he closed the distance.
Lock's fingers blurred through hand signs. To his surprise, his seals felt sharper, faster than usual—months of grueling practice were finally paying off.
"Earth Style: Mud Spike!"
The ground erupted at Minato's feet, jagged stone lances shooting upward. But Minato twisted gracefully, slipping past them without breaking stride.
A kunai flashed. Thud! It pierced straight through Lock's chest—
—and then dispersed in a puff of smoke.
"A Clone Jutsu…?" Minato's eyes narrowed. He hadn't even noticed when Lock had cast it.
A gust of wind came from behind. Minato turned instantly, splitting an oncoming shuriken with his kunai—only for Lock himself to appear out of thin air, driving a kick straight toward his face.
Minato caught the strike on his forearm, his lips curving into a small, approving smile. "Good speed."
He slid back a pace, resetting the distance, and his fingers began weaving through signs with dazzling speed.
The battle was only just beginning.
---
Support: patreon.com/Narrator_San