The first rays of morning sunlight pierced through the misty canopy above Training Field 11, gilding the forest with golden fire. Tatsuya Hoshino stood still beneath the trees, arms crossed, blue eyes focused on the circular sealing formation etched into the ground before him.
He had been here since before dawn—waiting.
It was time to take the Flying Thunder God Technique one step further.
The Divine Pickup System had already begun responding. In the back of his mind, faint notifications rippled across his chakra like quiet echoes of possibility.
[You picked up a Special Skill: Flying Thunder God Technique]
[You picked up 1000 points of Flying Thunder God Technique experience.]
[Flying Thunder God Technique upgraded: Level 2 (0/1000)]
Tatsuya's expression didn't shift, but deep inside, he felt the pulse of satisfaction.
As expected… Experience from this technique overlaps with the basic spacetime movement array. That means I can stack growth across variants.
Minato Namikaze. Tobirama Senju.
They were the only two in Konoha's history to ever master the Flying Thunder God. Not even Sarutobi Hiruzen, despite holding the Scroll of Seals for decades, had unraveled its secrets.
But Tatsuya? He paid nothing more than a handful of shuriken.
---
🌪️ TWENTY MINUTES LATER
A shuriken zipped past Shiranui Genma's face, embedding itself in a tree trunk with a metallic thunk.
Genma froze, brow twitching. "Captain Tatsuya… Did you just throw that at us?"
Tatsuya calmly adjusted the glove on his right hand. "Mm. Sorry. My hand slipped."
Genma sighed. "Right… Just slipped."
Tatsuya's expression was unreadable. "At that angle, I was observing the chakra displacement caused by the teleportation recoil."
Genma blinked. Then slowly, his eyes widened. "Wait… That's… Actually kind of brilliant."
"I thought so too."
Behind them, Iwashi Tatami and the third special jōnin exchanged impressed glances.
"You're analyzing the recoil?" Tatami muttered. "That's… exactly what Lord Fourth once mentioned. No wonder…"
Genma let out a chuckle. "Captain Tatsuya, if you keep this up, I might actually start believing you're Minato reincarnated."
Tatsuya didn't reply. He simply turned back to the array, threw another shuriken—and caught another faint flicker of system response.
[You picked up 50 points of Flying Thunder God Technique experience.]
Gold shimmered briefly before vanishing into his skin.
He breathed deep. Each shuriken… Each teleportation ripple… It's data. Feedback. Acceleration.
---
🌀 FLASHBACK – MINATO'S LEGACY
He recalled what he knew of Namikaze Minato.
The Yellow Flash.
The man whose mere presence on the battlefield forced Iwagakure to issue a retreat-on-sight order. Who once turned the tide of an entire war with a single jutsu.
His technique was not simply speed. It was precision. Layered logic. A bond between chakra and the very concept of location itself.
Now, that legacy fluttered just beyond Tatsuya's reach.
But it wouldn't remain there for long.
---
🧪 BACK TO THE TRAINING FIELD
The trio began another teleportation drill, activating the spatial seal formation in perfect unison.
Whoosh!
They flickered from place to place—ten meters, fifteen, twenty—leaving faint chakra trails that glowed in the air like afterimages.
Tatsuya stepped forward. Another shuriken flew from his hand.
[You picked up 40 points of Chakra.]
[You picked up 60 points of Flying Thunder God Technique experience.]
More golden light. His hand never slowed.
One by one, the data points kept coming—transformed into instinct, skill, reflex.
---
🌆 SUNSET – FIELD 11, HOURS LATER
Tatsuya stood in the center of the field. Sweat clung to his collar. His hair ruffled gently in the wind.
He exhaled slowly.
[Flying Thunder God Technique upgraded: Level 3 (0/1000)]
He glanced toward Genma. "It's slowing."
Genma nodded, panting slightly. "We're tapped out. The Formation Technique we're using is… limited. A shadow of the original."
"I expected as much," Tatsuya replied.
He closed his eyes. The data pickups were diminishing rapidly—no longer producing meaningful gains. From 60 points per movement to barely 10. At this rate, the training efficiency had flatlined.
---
🌙 NIGHT – ICHIRAKU RAMEN
Later that evening, the four shinobi sat at Ichiraku Ramen beneath the soft glow of paper lanterns. The air was thick with the savory scent of miso broth, seaweed, and grilled shellfish.
Tatsuya took a bite of seafood ramen, savoring the salt-kissed richness.
Genma leaned in. "You know, this is what real shinobi life is. Training all day. Ramen at night. Protecting the village in the middle."
Tatsuya looked into his bowl.
Training paid off. Level 3 already. I'm halfway through the next tier.
He didn't reply aloud—but the soft nod he gave spoke volumes.
---
🌤️ THE NEXT MORNING
Tatsuya didn't return to the training field.
There was no need.
The Formation Technique the trio used had served its purpose. Any further training would be a waste. The Divine Pickup System had squeezed every ounce of value from it.
Time to take the next step.
---
🏙️ KONOHA COMMERCIAL DISTRICT
The morning bustle of Konoha's main street rang out with the vibrant voices of vendors, clinking weapons, and villagers preparing for the historic signing of a peace treaty between Konoha and Kumogakure.
Colorful streamers fluttered above the shops. Kids ran through the street waving miniature flags with the Konoha symbol.
But Tatsuya had one objective in mind.
He entered a narrow weaponsmith's shop tucked between a bookstore and a sweet dumpling stall.
"Welcome," the old smith greeted with a grunt.
"I need a custom order. Thirty kunai. Triple-bladed, dense alloy, chakra-conductive, etched with seal-conducive grooves."
The old man looked up, eyes sharp. "You making those weird kunai like the Yellow Flash?"
Tatsuya gave a faint smirk. "Something like that."
---
🔧 THE FORGING
Tatsuya spent the next hour discussing metal composition, seal durability, and chakra resonance. The smith nodded at his specifications.
"These'll be expensive," the man warned.
"I'm a jōnin," Tatsuya replied simply.
The order was placed. Delivery: within five days.
---
🌇 KONOHA – DIPLOMATIC SQUARE
As Tatsuya stepped back into the street, he glanced toward the towering building in the distance where the Hokage and Kumo envoys were preparing to sign the treaty.
Villagers cheered. Decorations hung high. Celebration buzzed in the air.
Tatsuya narrowed his eyes.
Power governs everything. If I were just another shinobi, I wouldn't even know the location of the Book of Seals—let alone gain access to it.
If not for his growing influence—his contribution during the Nine-Tails attack, the assassination of the Hidden Mist agent, and now this training—he would still be anonymous.
That had changed.
I'm not at the top yet… but I will be.
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