The home space was vast and silent—completely empty except for Hinata herself.
Now spanning one hundred thousand square meters, the construction demands had multiplied exponentially. Buildings, facilities, and layouts all required careful planning and endless labor.
It wasn't something that could be rushed.
Patience and perseverance—step by step. That was the key. A perfect score of one hundred was no small reward. True improvement came only to those who refused to fear hardship. There was no such thing as a free lunch.
Hinata understood this deeply. The greatest fear in life wasn't hard work—it was giving everything you had and receiving nothing in return. The fact that she could exchange her labor for tangible results was already a blessing she cherished.
She continued her work with quiet diligence, laying out the foundation for her home.
A vast green lawn stretched outward, and at its center, marble roads formed a perfect cross. At the intersection, a fountain would rise—crowned with a ten-meter-tall golden statue of Hinata herself, pure gold from head to toe.
Everything she needed could be drawn directly from the material warehouse—a bottomless reserve that defied logic. In the outside world, no one could afford such extravagance. Even if someone built a golden statue, it would likely be torn down and melted for wealth.
Among her future projects was the construction of a mining site, which would allow her to extract resources such as gold, silver, iron, and coal. But Hinata wasn't in a hurry. She had learned from the logging camps, quarries, and steel mills she'd already built: once she produced a material independently, it would vanish from the warehouse's supply.
Inside the home space, time flowed differently—ten times faster than in reality. Her hours of labor here passed like dreams to her physical body outside. When she awoke, there was no exhaustion—only renewed energy, sharper and brighter than ordinary rest could ever grant.
…
Before dawn broke, Hinata's eyes opened—clear and alert. There was none of the drowsiness that usually came with waking. She sprang up from bed like a carp leaping from water, slipped on her gear, and carried two puppets onto her back.
Outside, in the chill of early morning, she began her daily routine.
The combined weight of twelve hundred pounds pressed heavily on her shoulders. Even with chakra reinforcement, the load was immense—without it, her body would have crumpled.
Sweat began to bead across her skin as she moved. Her breathing remained steady, her steps perfectly measured, each one identical in distance as though calculated with a ruler. The droplets of sweat thickened, soon streaming down like rain.
Hinata's movements were methodical. In her previous life, she had spent countless hours in gyms, learning how to balance intensity and endurance, how to push her limits while avoiding injury. She knew exactly how to unlock her body's potential while minimizing strain.
Yesterday's limit had been five hundred thirty-six steps.
Today, gritting her teeth, Hinata managed five hundred forty. Four more steps forward—small, yet monumental in her relentless pursuit of strength.
Every day, she consumed large amounts of meat and fish, supplemented with rare medicinal herbs. But without sufficient exercise, such nutrition would only accumulate as toxins. All medicines carried some degree of toxicity; if not properly metabolized, those poisons would eventually damage the body.
Through this intense physical training, Hinata's accelerated metabolism flushed out those toxins through sweat. Each time she finished, her body felt lighter, purer—as though reborn.
After resting briefly, she went to bathe and freshen up. By the time she finished, the sun was rising—and it was time for breakfast.
…
At the dining table, under the calm yet slightly weary gazes of her family, Hinata sat down. A wooden bucket sat before her, filled to the brim.
Inside were fried chicken bites, pork chops, beef slices, and roasted mutton—a meal fit for several people. For Hinata, it was simply breakfast. She mixed it with steaming rice and began to eat with quiet satisfaction.
The soup was a potent concoction of tiger entrails, turtle, and various seafood, its aroma pungent and rich. Hiashi, his wife, and Hanabi each took a small bowl. Hinata, however, drank the entire remaining pot in one go, using chakra to protect her fingers from the scalding heat.
She didn't stop at the broth. One by one, she devoured the chunks of meat within—chewing through even the bones with audible crunches.
"..."
Hiashi's lips trembled, his complexion paling.
His wife froze, wide-eyed, not even noticing that the meatball she had been holding had slipped from her chopsticks.
Hanabi, meanwhile, had already finished eating. Propping her chin on her hands, she simply watched in awe as her sister continued consuming what seemed like a feast for ten.
Hinata's eating habits were the result of necessity, not indulgence. In her previous life as an assassin, she had survived in mountains, jungles, and deserts—places where food was scarce and survival came before delicacy. She had long since learned to eat anything edible, without hesitation.
Even Hiashi, who prided himself on discipline and restraint, couldn't fathom his daughter's voracious appetite—or her ability to chew through bone and marrow as though it were nothing.
When the meal finally ended, Hiashi quietly reached into his sleeve, pulled out a small vial, and swallowed two pills. His heart couldn't take it. Each time he saw his daughter eat, it was like witnessing a natural disaster in motion.
What kind of child have I raised? he thought helplessly. She eats more now than ever before!
…
After her meal, Hinata sat in quiet meditation, digesting the food and stabilizing her chakra. When her body felt light again, she resumed training—still carrying two puppets on her back as usual.
Combat experience was not what she lacked—she had accumulated plenty of that in her former life. What she needed now was physical strength. Every improvement to her body directly amplified her power.
Before long, it was time for morning tea. Hinata and her family took a short break from training. She ate several sweet, pearl-sized pills, designed to replenish energy, blood, and mental energy. Each one cost as much as half a month's living expenses for an average family of three—but Hinata ate them by the handful, uncounting, as if they were candies.
Clapping her hands clean, she headed toward the dining area again. The servants had already prepared her next meal. While she ate, she activated her Byakugan, watching from afar as Hanabi practiced Gentle Fist under their father's supervision.
Finishing her meal in a few quick bites, Hinata waited through her usual digestion period before heading back out for more training.
…
Hinata's petite frame concealed a staggering amount of energy. The effects of her food and medicine lingered in every cell of her body, waiting to be awakened. Through her rigorous, confident training, Hinata steadily drew out and refined that dormant power, transforming it into her own strength.
This was Hinata's daily life—tedious, repetitive, and uneventful, yet she endured it with quiet persistence.
Recently, Kurenai-sensei had announced the upcoming Chunin Exams, putting Team 8's missions on hold for the time being. With no assignments to complete, Hinata had no reason to leave home and spent her days training in silence.
It was around noon, just after lunch, when Hinata was about to resume her workout. Before she could begin, her father stopped her and led her to the dojo.
"No puppets allowed. You two will fight," Hiashi declared curtly before kneeling to the side with the other onlookers.
Upon closer inspection, the dojo was packed—not only with the elders of the main family, but also with members of the branch family.
So much had been invested in Hinata—so many resources, so much time. People wanted to see results. Even among the main family, her consumption of food and medicine was unprecedented. Some members had begun to whisper their doubts.
This duel was meant to silence them. To prove that the clan's investment had not been in vain.
"Neji-nii-san," Hinata greeted softly, her tone gentle and polite.
"Lady Hinata," Neji replied coldly with a nod.
The tension between them was palpable—the rift that had existed ever since Neji's father's death had never fully healed.
The clan elder overseeing the match raised his voice.
"Prepare yourselves!"
Hinata and Neji faced each other, standing ten meters apart. Both formed hand seals and focused their chakra.
"Begin!" the elder commanded.
In the same instant, both activated their Byakugan and lunged forward.
A resounding bang echoed through the dojo as their palms collided, their chakra clashing like thunder. The floor beneath their feet shattered under the force. Hinata staggered three steps back, Neji two—but both stabilized immediately and closed the distance again.
The tempo was swift and intense.