Returning home from the hospital, Lee's heart sank at the sight of his dilapidated house. It looked like a war zone.
He had anticipated this possibility before he started drinking the night before, but he'd had no other choice. Konoha had plenty of training grounds—the one his team used was perfect—but the village's strict prohibition on underage drinking made it impossible to practice in public. He couldn't risk being seen by adults or his peers, and even if he found a secluded spot in the woods, he couldn't do it alone.
If he fell into a drunken stupor and remained unconscious, what would happen if a wild beast stumbled upon him? Konoha was surrounded by dense forests, and dangerous animals were far from rare.
After weighing his options, he had decided that home was the safest bet—it just happened to be very expensive for the house. At this rate, he wasn't sure how many more "training sessions" the building could take.
After a quick attempt to tidy up the chaos, Lee sat cross-legged on the floor to organize his thoughts. What exactly is this mysterious power? Why does it trigger such an intense state of intoxication?
He sat there for two hours until a glimmer of an idea began to form. He needed more data. He needed to experiment.
He reached for a fresh bottle of sake and, without hesitation, downed it in one go.
This time, he was mentally prepared. As the liquid hit his stomach and the alcohol began to circulate through his system...
Whirr!
His consciousness began to blur in less than two minutes.
At three o'clock in the morning, Lee jolted awake on the floor, his body drenched in a cold sweat.
Looking around the pitch-black room, he stood up and walked to the corner to flick the light switch. Nothing happened.
He sighed, rubbing his temples. "The lightbulb's smashed too. Great."
Navigating by touch through the dark corners of the house, he made his way to the kitchen and found a spare cabinet. He pulled out a candle and lit it. Under the flickering orange glow, he inspected the damage to the house. It was enough to make his heart skip a beat.
Despite the carnage, he wasn't ready to give up. Carrying the candle to the opposite corner of the hall where he'd pre-staged his supplies, he picked up a third bottle of sake.
"The second time I entered the drunken state, I lasted about two minutes. The recovery time was cut by more than half compared to the first time," he noted. "My guess was right; the body is gradually adapting to the alcohol."
By the candlelight, he saw the clock on the wall: exactly 3:00 AM. Two nights ago, he had started drinking at eight and didn't wake up until seven the next morning. Last night, he'd started at the same time but only needed eight hours to recover.
Sitting back down, Lee placed the candle in front of him and stared into the flame, beginning a comprehensive analysis of the Drunken Fist's power source. With two experiments under his belt, his line of inquiry was much clearer.
In the original story, Lee's use of the Drunken Fist against Kimimaro was an unconscious act. The power he unleashed was fundamentally different from the Taijutsu he had mastered through conscious effort. Why?
Was the alcohol stimulating some latent energy within his body?
He thought about how ordinary people acted when they were "mean drunks." For a civilian, a drunken rampage was just chaotic, unskilled flailing—the "swinging wild to hit the master" approach.
But Lee was different. When he fought Kimimaro, he wasn't just flailing; he was performing incredible defensive maneuvers with enhanced speed and power. And he was doing it all while technically unconscious!
There were two distinct states here: true unconscious drunkenness and conscious drunkenness.
A concept flashed in his mind: Muscle Memory.
The Fourth Raikage, Ay, used Lightning Release to stimulate his cellular activity, drastically increasing his reaction speed. In a way, Lee was using alcohol to stimulate his muscle cells, allowing his body to attack and defend autonomously.
Usually, when a person sees an attack, the brain processes the information and sends a command to the muscles. Drunken Lee, however, was skipping the brain entirely. His body was reacting on its own.
If his hypothesis was correct, it was terrifying. Between his two lives, Lee's knowledge base was vast, and he couldn't think of a single person—even in the world of One Piece—who had mastered such a state of pure "Ultra Instinct."
Dead last? Lee thought with a smirk. This kid is a hidden combat genius.
He felt a sudden surge of excitement and couldn't wait to try again. With the experience from the first two rounds, his confidence was at an all-time high.
He downed the third bottle. This time, he lasted five minutes before his consciousness spiraled out of control.
At nine the next morning, Lee woke up. He stood up and took one look at his now-dilapidated home, and his heart physically ached.
"I'm literally going to be eating dirt."
Given the extent of the damage, it would cost at least 300,000 Ryo to fix the place. His current savings amounted to a meager 50,000. A D-rank mission only paid about 5,000, and even with his monthly 3,000 Ryo stipend, he'd have to work for free for months just to break even.
The third "session" had been so destructive that even the bathroom in the furthest corner hadn't been spared.
Lee took a deep breath, turned, and left the house to head to the river. He had water-walking to master.
Four days passed in a blur.
Through tireless effort, Lee finished his water-surface training. His chakra control exercises were officially complete for this stage. At his current level, he could barely maintain enough chakra for one more use of the Six Powers—the cap was simply too low.
He hadn't touched a drop of alcohol in those four days. Not because he didn't want to, but because if he drank again, he wouldn't have a roof over his head.
When Lee arrived at the training ground today, he found Tenten pacing back and forth anxiously.
"Morning, Tenten," Lee called out.
Tenten looked up, her face lighting up with joy. "Lee! I have great news! Neji is being discharged today. The Chunin Exams ended yesterday, too, so Sensei is taking us out to celebrate! He went to the hospital to pick up Neji first. We need to hurry and meet them at the tavern!"
Lee felt a twinge of awkwardness. A celebration meant losing another day of training. He found himself torn.
Before he could answer, Tenten grabbed his hand and started running. "Tenten, wait—!"
"Wait for what? Guy-sensei is treating us! We're going to make his wallet cry! Tee-hee!"
When they arrived at the tavern, Lee recognized the decorations immediately. It was the same place where he'd bought the sake a few days ago. Even from the entrance, he could hear the boisterous cheers from inside.
Taverns usually only operated at night, but today was an exception. After the biannual Chunin Exams, the proctors and participating genin always celebrated. The party was supposed to be last night, but the Third Hokage had called all the staff into a meeting that lasted until 1:00 AM. Consequently, most of the Konoha shinobi had pushed their celebrations to this morning.
Stepping inside, Lee saw Might Guy waving them over from a pre-claimed table. Lee nodded in greeting and noticed that the entire pub was filled with Konoha shinobi.
At their table, Lee spotted two other ninjas—a man and a woman. The man had a well-groomed goatee and a cigarette dangling from his lips; the woman had striking red eyes and was exceptionally beautiful.
Guy stood up to introduce them. "Lee, Tenten! Meet some of my friends. This is Asuma Sarutobi and Kurenai Yuhi. Asuma is a Jonin, and Kurenai is currently a Special Jonin!"
"Nice to meet you," Asuma and Kurenai said in unison, offering friendly smiles.
Lee and Tenten responded politely before taking their seats next to Neji.
Asuma glanced over the three students, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "Guy, your students look like they're full of energy. I wonder if the kids I'm assigned next year will be anything like them."
Guy, who was busy scanning the menu, looked back at Asuma with a puzzled expression. "The Hokage wants you to lead a squad?"
Asuma gave a wry smile. "I don't know what the old man is thinking. Not just me; Kurenai's getting a team next year too. It's going to be a real headache."
Lee looked at the two Jonin, thinking to himself that they didn't know how lucky they were. From what he remembered, the Genin teams they would inherit next year were the envy of the village—all of them heirs to prominent clans: Yamanaka, Nara, Akimichi, Aburame, Hyuga, and Inuzuka.
As Lee was internally critiquing their "complaints," a mocking voice suddenly cut through the air.
"Well, well... if it isn't our hot-blooded 'Dead Last' from our graduation class. I'm amazed a loser like you actually managed to become a ninja. Talk about an eye-opener!"