The sound of dry leaves crunching echoed in the night air.
"Kakaka…"
From the shadows ahead, a figure stepped into view. His pale eyes gleamed in the dark like a pair of ghostly lanterns.
Lock's expression sharpened. The Byakugan…
The newcomer was a boy no older than thirteen or fourteen, but the bearing of his posture was unmistakable—calm arrogance, chin lifted as though the forest itself was beneath him. A Hyūga. One of Konoha's great clans.
"I didn't expect it to be you," Lock muttered, narrowing his eyes. He had noticed this one before the exams even began. Those pale, pupil-less eyes had drawn his attention immediately.
The Hyūga boy smirked faintly. "So you did notice me. It seems I underestimated you."
His voice carried a cold pride. He had been watching from afar, hidden, his Byakugan following Lock's every move. But despite the distance, Lock had sensed his presence. That alone put him on edge.
"You're young," the Hyūga continued, his tone dripping with disdain, "but already so cruel. To kill fellow shinobi from the same village without hesitation… merciless."
Lock gave a short, humorless laugh. "Cruel? If I hadn't killed them, they would've killed me. Should I have just stood there and let them cut me down? If that's what you believe, then why don't you try it? Show me how it's done."
The Hyūga's eyes hardened. "Enough jokes. Hand over your scrolls, and I'll let you walk away alive."
"Let me go?" Lock asked, his voice laced with disbelief.
"You've exhausted yourself," the Hyūga pressed, his tone growing sharper. "I've been watching you fight. Your chakra is spent. Right now, you have no strength left." His pale eyes gleamed with an ugly anticipation. "Give me the scrolls, and you might live to see the next Chūnin Exam. Refuse…" He smiled faintly. "…and I'll savor the thrill of killing a so-called prodigy."
Lock tilted his head, studying him. "So in your eyes, I'm already a fish on the chopping block?"
"That's right," the Hyūga said coldly. "I won't give you time to recover. Decide."
Lock slowly reached into his vest. He withdrew a scroll and began walking forward, each step unhurried. His expression was unreadable.
"You're in luck," he said softly. "The two I killed earlier had scrolls of their own. Added to mine, that makes a complete set."
At those words, the Hyūga's eyes lit up. His Byakugan confirmed it—the scrolls were real. Greed flickered across his face, quick and ugly.
"Give them to me," he ordered, extending a hand. "All of them."
Lock's lips twitched. "Greedy, aren't you? A full set of scrolls, and you still want more. What about me? You expect me to just hand over everything and crawl away empty-handed?"
"Enough!" the Hyūga snapped. "Don't waste your breath. Give them here!"
He paid no mind to Lock's slow approach. Why should he? The Hyūga clan's Gentle Fist made closing the distance meaningless. Even if Lock tried that strange speed technique again, he was confident his defense would hold.
But Lock's smirk only deepened. His voice dropped to a dangerous murmur. "You're wrong about one thing. At this distance… I'm untouchable."
Before the Hyūga could process the words, Lock's form flickered and vanished.
"—!"
The Hyūga's eyes widened, his Byakugan snapping into focus. Lock's presence blurred, then reappeared behind him in an instant, kunai raised to strike.
That speed—!
"I'm not that fool you killed earlier!" the Hyūga snarled, spinning on his heel. His body twisted with a sudden burst of chakra.
"Eight Trigrams: Palms Rotation!"
A dome of whirling force erupted around him, chakra spinning like a violent cyclone. Lock's kunai struck the barrier, and the backlash hurled him through the air.
"Damn it—!"
He landed hard, skidding back across the dirt, his arm stinging from the force of impact.
Across from him, the Hyūga boy straightened, his breath ragged, sweat beading his brow. His Byakugan glowed faintly, his expression caught between anger and something else—fear.
"The Hyūga's absolute defense…" Lock muttered, his eyes narrowing. "You can already use Rotation? That means… you're not just anyone. You're one of the clan's true prodigies."
At thirteen or fourteen, most Hyūga heirs could barely refine their Gentle Fist. To wield a technique as advanced as Rotation meant this boy was a genius on the level of Neji himself.
But even so, his arrogance had nearly cost him his life.
The boy's breathing was uneven, his pale eyes locked on Lock with a mixture of fury and unease. He had dismissed his opponent as weakened prey—and nearly paid for it with his throat.
"…You…" he began, voice trembling between rage and disbelief. "That speed… what are you?"
Lock only smiled faintly, kunai was raised again. "Someone you shouldn't have underestimated."
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A/N: Advanced Chapters Have Been Uploaded On My Patreon
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