While following Mikoto, Hayashi glanced at the system control panel floating before him. At that moment, the information had shifted:
[Host's remaining ninja points: 3600]
As expected, missions truly brought in the biggest surge of points.
That old saying, a person cannot get rich without windfall wealth, turned out to be true even here.
During this competition, when Hayashi defeated his first opponent, the system rewarded him with 1000 points. And when he defeated Minato the second time, the reward was an astonishing 2000 points.
It was obvious now—the system awarded points based on the difficulty of advancement. The higher the level of the opponent, the greater the reward. Normally, defeating Minato would have only yielded a little over four hundred points.
"Is Minato really worth so little in ordinary circumstances?" Hayashi thought wryly.
Back when he had no points, he had always tried to comfort himself. He would think, having too many points must be annoying, since you'd hesitate about where to allocate them. But when you had too few, there wasn't even a choice—you couldn't add them anywhere at all.
Now he understood just how foolish he'd been.
Did I think having too many points would make me unhappy?
No—the happiness of having plenty was beyond imagination.
"Am I really just that poor at heart?" Hayashi muttered inwardly with a bitter smile.
"Lady Tsunade, my friend is injured. Please, take a look at him!" Mikoto's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. She looked nervous, almost frantic, as she pleaded with the blonde medical ninja.
"…Huh?" Tsunade, after casually sending away another student, finally turned her gaze toward Mikoto and Hayashi.
"Uchiha brats? What's the problem now?"
"Look—look at this! Such a serious wound!" Mikoto grabbed Hayashi's arm and thrust it forward.
"…This?" Tsunade blinked, clearly unimpressed. "You're calling this tiny scratch a serious wound? It's not even a centimeter long."
Hayashi rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.
"I have a needle and thread here. How about I sew up your torn clothes instead?" Tsunade offered after a pause.
"That's fine," Hayashi said without hesitation. He slipped off his outer garment and handed it to the princess of Konoha.
To his surprise, Tsunade actually pulled out a small sewing kit and began stitching his clothes with practiced hands.
"Lady Tsunade, why do you carry this sort of thing with you?" Hayashi asked curiously.
"Sometimes missions last months," she replied matter-of-factly. "If you're stationed somewhere remote, battles ruin your gear. You can't exactly go shopping for new clothes in the middle of nowhere. So sewing becomes a necessity."
Her lips curved into a small smirk. "Don't worry, my skills are excellent. I don't tell just anyone about this, you know. Consider it a special secret. Aren't you touched, brat?"
Hayashi gave her a flat look and rolled his eyes. "Only a ghost would believe that."
"Lady Tsunade, I can handle sewing. Please, check Hayashi's wound properly!" Mikoto couldn't take it anymore. Her cheeks puffed slightly in irritation as she urged Tsunade again.
But Hayashi finally spoke up, a little exasperated. "Mikoto, it's already healed. What you see are just scabs."
Mikoto froze, her eyes widening. A flush quickly spread across her face. Her worry had been exposed so bluntly that the embarrassment turned her flustered concern into deep shyness.
Tsunade raised a brow and muttered under her breath, "These kids are falling in love too early."
Before Hayashi could retort, a voice shouted nearby.
"Sis—I'm injured too!"
It was Senju Nawaki, who had just finished his own match. He had clearly been watching the whole time and now couldn't hold himself back.
This can't go on, he thought. Look at them—sewing clothes together, laughing. He, Nawaki, had never gotten that sort of attention from his sister. Was this Uchiha brat really trying to court her?
Nawaki's jaw tightened. Tsunade was still a sixteen-year-old girl. Was Hayashi actually aiming for his sister?
Tsunade turned and looked at him, unimpressed. "Where exactly are you injured, Nawaki?"
Her sharp gaze swept over his spotless clothes and perfectly stable chakra flow. He wasn't injured at all.
"…Uh…" Nawaki stammered, caught off guard. He hadn't thought this far ahead. He just wanted to interrupt.
Desperate, he blurted, "I—I caught a cold! So I wanted to ask if you have medicine for it."
Even he didn't believe his own excuse. Tsunade's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"You little brat… trying to trick me again, aren't you?" she said flatly.
Hayashi hid a smirk as Mikoto continued sewing beside him. This is too entertaining.
Tsunade sighed inwardly. She had just returned from a mission and wanted to relax with a few rounds of gambling, not babysit academy kids. The Third Hokage had insisted, however, that she help out by treating injured students. Orochimaru and Jiraiya had taken on the actual teaching.
And yet here she was, surrounded by bothersome brats one after another.
"So troublesome…" she muttered, sounding exactly like a member of the Nara clan.
But then her expression softened into a sweet smile as she turned back to her brother.
"I do have cold medicine, Nawaki," she said warmly.
A bad feeling swept over Nawaki.
"Here, let me show you." Tsunade formed several hand seals. In an instant, two blue, sticky creatures appeared on the table, wriggling slightly as they released a strange liquid.
Slugs.
Nawaki's face went pale. He knew exactly what these were. Jiraiya had already warned him about Tsunade's "folk remedies."
"Nawaki," Tsunade said sweetly, brushing a golden strand of hair behind her ear, "I have a traditional cure here. It works on all ailments."
Her smile deepened as she stepped toward him. "My foolish little brother…"
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