THROW POWER STONES AT ME.
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The silence following Gin's "vibration" didn't just linger; it suffocated the air.
The Academy training ground, usually a mess of kids yelling and the rhythmic thwack of wooden kunai hitting targets, had gone dead quiet. Parents who had spent the morning bragging about their kids' "elite" grip techniques were now clutching their sleeves, staring at the five-year-old orphan who had just turned a Chunin instructor's insides into jelly.
Gin didn't move. He stood in the middle of the cracked dirt ring, hands shoved lazily into his pockets. In the corner of his eye, the blue ticker was still pulsing.
[Synchronization Progress: 1.6%]
Point-four percent for one punch, Gin thought, his mind already whirring with cold calculation. Not bad, but not enough. If I keep this up, I'll be hitting puberty before I can even trigger a proper earthquake. I need a catalyst. A "feat of strength" doesn't just mean hitting harder; it means shifting the power balance of this village.
He looked at the crowd, but his mind was on the timeline. The Third Great Ninja War is looming. If I don't hit at least 10% synchronization before the front lines open up, I'm just going to be another high-value pawn for the Hokage to sacrifice. I need to bait the big fish early. Let them come to me, let them try to "contain" me, and I'll use their resistance to grind out the percentages.
The Crimson Gaze
Among the cluster of students, Kurenai Yuhi didn't look away like the others. Her father had always told her that the most dangerous ninja wasn't the one screaming, but the one who looked like he'd rather be taking a nap.
She watched Gin with an intensity that was way too sharp for a five-year-old. While the other girls were whispering about how "cool" he looked, Kurenai was focused on the ground. The dirt hadn't just moved; it had shivered.
He's playing with us, she thought, a small, sharp smile tugging at her lips. She didn't feel the "run away" instinct the other kids did. Instead, she felt a magnetic pull. There was something addictive about the way he treated the Academy's sacred testing grounds like a boring chore.
As Gin walked past her, he caught her eye. Kurenai Yuhi, he noted internally. Genjutsu specialist in the making. If she's already tracking the vibration instead of the flash, she's smarter than the rest of this herd. Might be worth keeping her close—a sensory type who can see through the "noise" would be a useful alarm system for when the Anbu start creeping around.
He didn't look at her directly, but a ghost of a smirk played on his lips. Kurenai didn't flinch; she just tracked him with those hooded, red eyes.
"That was quite the performance, Gin."
The voice was low and sharp. The crowd parted like the Red Sea as Sakumo Hatake, the White Fang of the Leaf, approached. Beside him, a young Kakashi looked uncharacteristically tense.
"Performance implies effort," Gin replied, finally looking up. He didn't bow. "I was just checking if the instructor was as sturdy as he looked. Spoiler alert: he wasn't. You might want to get the faculty some better milk; their bones seem a bit brittle."
The White Fang, Gin's inner monologue sharpened. The man who's supposedly "above" the Sannin. If I can get him to spar with me, the synchronization would skyrocket. But he's too careful, too protective of the 'village peace.' I need to stay on his radar without giving him a reason to shut me down... yet.
"You have a strange gift," Sakumo said, his hand resting lightly on his sword. "But be careful, Gin. A mountain that stands too high invites the wind."
"Let it blow," Gin shrugged. "I like the breeze. Keeps things from getting boring."
The Shadow in the Trees
While the White Fang offered respect, others were already measuring Gin for a cage. High above, a Root operative watched Gin with the cold eyes of a butcher.
Gin felt the gaze. It felt like a slimy finger tracing a line down his spine.
There he is, Gin thought, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at the roof. Danzo's little pet. Phase one of the plan is working perfectly. I knew if I showed off just enough "untraceable" power, the Foundation wouldn't be able to resist. They'll send a recruiter tonight. Probably try the 'for the good of the village' speech before the kidnapping starts. Good. I need someone to test the new 'Tactile Quake' on, and a Root agent is the perfect, disposable punching bag.
Gin raised a finger and tapped the air, flicking a tiny ripple toward the roof.
Vrrrm.
The roof tile under the Anbu turned into fine dust. The shinobi stumbled, and Gin's lopsided grin widened. See you tonight, shadow-man. Don't forget to bring friends. I need the XP.
As the exams ended, Kakashi stayed behind, blocking Gin's path. "My father thinks you're dangerous," he said bluntly.
"Your father has good instincts," Gin replied.
"How did you do it?" Kakashi lowered his voice. "The vibration. It didn't feel like chakra."
Gin leaned in. Kakashi is the gold standard for this generation. If I keep him frustrated and chasing my shadow, he'll push the rest of the class to get stronger. A stronger class means better sparring partners. Better sparring partners mean faster synchronization.
"You want the secret, Kakashi? Most people try to move the world. They push, they pull, they use chakra to force things. I don't bother with that."
"Then what do you do?"
"I just refuse to let the world move me," Gin said, tapping Kakashi's chest. A tiny pulse made the silver-haired boy stumble back. "When you're the anchor, the rest of the world has to decide whether it wants to bend or break around you."
As Gin walked toward his crappy apartment, the system flickered.
[Synchronization Progress: 2.0%]Milestone Reached: 'The Unshakable Foundation.'New Ability Unlocked: Tactile Quake (Send vibrations through anything you touch).
Gin flexed his fingers, his mind already set on the evening's festivities. Step 1: Academy dominance, check. Step 2: Bait Danzo into sending a strike team, check. Step 3: Crack a few masks and hit 5% by morning. It's going to be a busy night.
Behind him, Kurenai watched him until he disappeared around the corner. She wasn't just another fan—she was already wondering what it would feel like to stand in the center of that storm.
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