The sound of rustling leaves and the rhythmic thud of fists striking wood echoed through the quiet training ground on the outskirts of Konoha. The morning air was cool, mist curling in the shadows, and Hiro was already drenched in sweat.
He had been at it for hours stance drills, explosive bursts, and slow, deliberate breathing cycles. But today's focus wasn't just about conditioning. It was about pushing himself into a realm most shinobi feared to tread.
The theory was simple enough, but the reality was brutal. Opening even the first gate required immense strain on the body's muscles, bones, and chakra pathways. Hiro didn't have the luxury of chakra control honed from birth, so he had to carve his own way forward. That meant combining his lifetime of MMA training with shinobi physiology.
"Your frame can handle a lot, but the Gates aren't just muscle," said Daisuke, an older chunin who had seen Hiro train with frightening dedication. "They'll eat away at you from the inside if you don't respect them."
Hiro had nodded, already knowing the dangers. "I'm not here to live forever. I'm here to push the limit."
That answer had earned him a strange, knowing smirk.
Now, back in the present, Hiro shifted his stance. The MMA part of his brain broke down the Eight Gates into familiar concepts: muscle activation patterns, adrenaline surges, oxygen deprivation tolerance, and pain suppression techniques.
He started with the Gate of Opening. The concept was almost identical to explosive anaerobic burst drills pushing past normal performance thresholds without hesitation. He exhaled slowly, tightening his core, and let his movements flow.
The result was a sudden snap in speed. His punches blurred, striking the wooden post with rapid-fire precision, each blow digging deeper than the last.
But with each burst came pain. The muscles in his arms screamed in protest, microtears forming. He could feel his pulse in his skull. Still, he pushed.
Two figures watched from a distance. Minato, not yet the legendary Fourth Hokage but already a prodigy, stood with his arms crossed. Next to him was Might Duy, the man who would one day be known for opening all Eight Gates against the Seven Ninja Swordsmen.
"He's reckless," Minato commented.
Duy shook his head slowly. "No. He's deliberate. Look closer his form isn't breaking, even under strain. That's someone who's trained their body for years before ever learning what chakra is."
Minato's eyes narrowed. "Still… that path leads to self-destruction."
"Maybe," Duy said quietly. "Or maybe it leads to something new."
Hiro finally stopped, breathing hard. His knuckles were raw, blood mixing with sweat, but his heart felt… alive. The Gate of Opening was only the start, and it was already transforming his speed and power. But he wanted more.
For the next phase, he turned to techniques he had been analyzing:
Strong Fist (Gōken) – Rock Lee's future style, focused on bone-crushing strikes.
Iron Body Conditioning – modeled after shinobi taijutsu and his own Muay Thai shin conditioning.
Dynamic Footwork – blending Jeet Kune Do mobility with shinobi evasive maneuvers.
He would merge them all. The result wouldn't be pure shinobi taijutsu or pure MMA it would be his own creation.
By late afternoon, the training field looked like a battlefield. The posts were shattered, the dirt cratered from low sweeping kicks, and Hiro's shirt was soaked through. He was exhausted, but not done.
He sat cross-legged, slowing his breathing. His mind replayed every moment from his old life in the octagon the roar of the crowd, the taste of blood, the clarity that came when instinct took over. Now, instead of chasing titles, he was chasing a body that could hold the full power of the Eight Gates without crumbling instantly.
From the treeline, Duy finally stepped forward.
"You've got the drive," Duy said simply. "But the Gates aren't mastered through brute force alone. If you want to truly control them, you'll need my help."
Hiro looked up, his breathing still heavy. "And the cost?"
Duy's eyes hardened. "Everything you are. You'll have to tear yourself down and rebuild from nothing. Most can't survive that."
Hiro smirked despite his exhaustion. "Then let's start tearing."
That night, as the moonlight bathed the quiet village, Hiro knew his path had shifted. He wasn't just training to survive in this world anymore. He was preparing to dominate it one Gate at a time.