Xingye barely noticed the heavy silence following the duel. His mind was already submerged in the golden interface of the Sword Heart System. He scrolled past the usual mundane entries—Diligently practiced for 1 day: EXP +1—until he hit the bottom of the log.
Combat Log: Cross-level battle against Sakumo Hatake. Result: Victory. Experience +5.
Xingye's mouth nearly stretched to his ears. Five points. In one afternoon, he had earned nearly a week's worth of grueling solo practice.
He looked at Sakumo. The boy was still staring at his hands, his spirit dampened by the loss. To the world, he was the genius son of the Hatake. To Xingye, he was a shimmering mountain of experience points—a golden ladder leading straight to the title of Sword Saint.
Xingye stepped forward, throwing a friendly arm around Sakumo's rigid shoulders. He flashed a brilliant, blindingly white smile.
"Don't be so down, Sakumo," Xingye said, his voice dripping with newfound "brotherly" affection. "A shinobi shouldn't fixate on a single win or loss. What matters is the gain. Today's exchange made us both sharper, right? If we do this every day for the next three years, we'll reach the top together."
Sakumo looked at him, blinking in confusion. He felt the sincerity in Xingye's words, but something about that grin—too bright, too eager—sent a strange, cold shiver down his spine. He subtly tried to shrug off the arm, feeling uncharacteristically exposed.
Xingye didn't mind. He let go, his mind already calculating. Every day. Five points a day. I'll be a master before I hit puberty.
The front door creaked open, and Rie Gekkō walked in, carrying bags of groceries from her shift at the hospital. She froze, seeing two unfamiliar boys standing in her courtyard.
"Little Night? Who are...?"
"Mom!" Xingye jogged over to help with the bags. "Meet my new classmates from the Academy. This is Sakumo Hatake, and that's Jiraiya. They're my friends."
Jiraiya and Sakumo immediately snapped to attention, bowing in perfect unison. "Hello, Auntie! Sorry for the intrusion!"
Rie's eyes welled with sudden, overwhelming joy. Her son, the boy who spent all day swinging sticks in the dark, had brought friends home. Real, living friends. The Academy was the best decision I ever made, she thought.
"Inside! Both of you!" she commanded with a beaming smile. "No one leaves this house without dinner."
Rie cooked with the intensity of a woman possessed. The aroma of braised pork and seasoned rice filled the house, a scent so divine it broke through Jiraiya's social anxiety and Sakumo's stoic reserve. Jiraiya practically buried his face in his bowl, while Sakumo, usually the picture of etiquette, found his chopsticks moving with frantic speed.
When the stars finally claimed the sky, the two boys made their excuses, bowing one last time before heading into the night.
Rie shut the door and immediately scooped Xingye into a crushing hug. "I'm so proud of you, Little Night! Keep it up. Make more friends. And honestly? It wouldn't hurt to find a girlfriend while you're at it."
Xingye rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. "Mom, I'm six."
"I met your father when I was your age!" she countered, pointing a wooden spoon at him. "He proposed at sixteen. You're handsomer than he ever was—the girls will be falling over themselves. If you like one, bring her home. If you like three or four? Fine by me! The Gekkō clan needs numbers, Xingye. The future of our bloodline is on your shoulders!"
Xingye stood there, speechless. So this is the 'prosperous clan' strategy? Pure numbers?
Late that night, Xingye lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling as he reviewed his logs. Two realizations had taken root.
First: Hard training was a trap. Like any shonen protagonist, he wouldn't reach the peak by hitting a post in his backyard. The System craved conflict. It wanted him to seek out the elite—the Sakumos and the Orochimarus—and absorb the "intent" of their battle. Defeating a Genin-level opponent like Sakumo while he was technically an Academy student was the secret to the +5 multiplier.
Second: The System was literal. He had fought Jiraiya earlier in the day with his bare hands and received zero experience. It was a Sword Heart System. No blade, no gain.
He climbed out of bed and crept down to his father's study. He bypassed the ornate ceremonial pieces and selected two tools: a sturdy wooden training sword for the Academy and a slender, wickedly sharp dagger for "emergencies."
He tucked them into his bag. From this day forward, he would never be without steel. He would be the ghost with a blade, the "dabbler" who hunted legends.
Now, he thought, sitting back on his bed. Let's see what else this System can do.