When it came to cheating on the written test, the proctors weren't too strict. As long as you weren't sloppy enough to get caught red-handed, they turned a blind eye. After all, in the world of shinobi, information gathering was as important as brute strength.
The test itself wasn't dramatic. Aside from a few Genin who failed miserably at copying, most managed to hand in their papers. Unlike the anime's grand setup, there was no speech about "hidden answers." The results came back quickly—of the fifty-six candidates, only nine passed the written portion and moved on to the second round.
The next test was combat. Not simple duels, but survival. Each participant was handed a scroll and thrown into Konoha's infamous Training Ground 44—the Forest of Death.
There were three types of scrolls: Heaven, Earth, and Human. To pass, a candidate had to collect one of each and race to the tower at the center of the forest. Only the first three to arrive with a full set would earn promotion to Chūnin.
Forty-seven candidates gathered at the entrance. The air was tense; their gazes turned sharp, already measuring one another as prey or rivals. Everyone knew—this exam wasn't kind. Even without the bloodlust of Kirigakure's style, every year in Konoha's Chūnin Exams, some participants never walked out again.
Lock stood among them, calm. He felt the weight of hostile stares—most of them targeting him, the youngest in the group. Nine years old, facing opponents nearly twice his age, some already seasoned with missions. They thought he was the weakest link.
He almost laughed. In a straight fight, maybe he'd worry. But in the Forest of Death, he had the perfect advantage. With his mastery of stealth, he could vanish into thin air. Unless someone had sensory jutsu or a Byakugan, finding him would be impossible.
The only potential problem: two candidates from the Hyūga clan. If either of them used their dōjutsu, invisibility wouldn't be enough. That would take caution.
"Remember," the overseeing Jōnin barked, "no combat for the first five minutes after entry. We'll be watching. Break this rule, and you'll be disqualified and barred from the next three exams."
It was meant to prevent chaos right at the gate and give everyone time to disperse.
Lock checked his scroll—Earth. He'd need both Heaven and Human before heading to the tower. Luck and timing would decide a lot, but he was confident.
The gates opened.
Candidates sprinted into the forest, scattering quickly. Lock sensed several shadows following him. He knew what they were thinking: gang up on the smallest, take his scroll first.
"Too naïve."
He blurred into the trees, activated his stealth, and his body melted into the air. Six seconds later, there was nothing left but silence.
"What the—? Where did he go?"
The three who had been tailing him skidded to a halt, eyes wide. They searched, but the boy had vanished.
"Damn it! Did he use some kind of trick?"
"Smart brat… slipped away before we could grab him."
They cursed, frustrated. They had thought Lock would be the easiest prey, not realizing they had stumbled upon Konoha's invisible shadow.
Lock didn't bother to deal with them. It was too soon. The Forest of Death wasn't just about defeating enemies—it was about survival. Jumping into fights early was reckless. Even he could be overwhelmed if surrounded.
The forest stretched vast—ten kilometers across, sealed behind forty-four gated entrances. It wasn't just large; it was dangerous. Wild beasts, poisonous plants, and even rogue chakra beasts roamed its depths. That danger was the reason most civilians never set foot inside. For a shinobi, however, it was the ultimate trial ground.
Lock had once thought about sneaking in to sharpen his skills, but gave up—it was forbidden, and without backup, reckless. Now, entering officially, he couldn't help but feel a thrill. This place suited him.
Unseen, he slipped deeper into the woods, unaware that two figures had picked up his trail. One carried the other on his back, moving swiftly despite the weight. The one being carried kept his eyes closed, whispering occasional directions.
"Turn left ahead. He's stopped about a hundred meters away. Careful—don't let him notice."
The carrier landed lightly on a branch, eyes narrowing as he scanned the trees.
Lock remained still, silent within his cloak of invisibility—yet for the first time, he wasn't sure he was the hunter.
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