Three days vanished in a blur of focused preparation.
The assessment grounds of the Uchiha Military Police Force were swarmed with clan members. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and expectation. At the elevated examiner's bench, three Uchiha Jonin sat with the weight of judges.
Uchiha Tekka sat to the left. In the center sat an old man whose face was a map of scars and stern lines, his eyes as sharp and predatory as a mountain hawk: Uchiha Yatsushiro. An Elder of the Hawk Faction, he was a man whose name was synonymous with strict impartiality and radical clan pride. To his right sat Uchiha Setsuna, another veteran Jonin known for his relentless combat style.
"Silence!"
Tekka's voice boomed, cutting through the murmurs of the crowd. His gaze fell upon the three candidates standing in the center of the arena.
"Today marks the special recruitment trials for the Military Police Force. Three of you have applied. Know this: the Guard Team harbors no idlers. Only the elite remain!"
"You will be judged across three disciplines: Taijutsu, Ninjutsu, and a Live Combat Simulation. Each phase will be scored. Only those with the highest marks—or those who show 'unrivaled potential'—will be inducted. Understood?"
"Yes!" Yao and the two older youths shouted in unison.
The others, Uchiha Kyoichi and Uchiha Kaede, were both sixteen. They were established Chunin with solid reputations, and their side-eye toward Yao was thick with dismissive contempt. To them, Yao was a twelve-year-old riding a wave of lucky rumors.
"First Phase: Taijutsu!"
A lean, wiry Uchiha Chunin stepped into the ring, his movements fluid and efficient.
Kyoichi went first. The exchange was a blur of high-level strikes, but Kyoichi's academy-style forms were too predictable for the veteran officer. Within a dozen exchanges, he was pinned to the dirt.
"Uchiha Kyoichi. Score: Average," Tekka announced without emotion.
Kaede fared slightly better, holding his own for several minutes, but he lacked the "finishing spark." He too received an "Average" grade.
Then, it was Yao's turn.
"Brat, give me something worth watching. Don't waste my breath," the Chunin sparring partner grinned, his tone dripping with professional arrogance.
Yao offered no retort. He simply bowed, his body settling into the foundational Uchiha interceptor stance.
"Begin!"
At Tekka's command, the Chunin exploded forward. He launched a snapping straight punch, the air whistling as it sought Yao's jaw. He was using seventy percent of his speed—enough to overwhelm a standard graduate.
But in Yao's perception, the trajectory was as clear as a line drawn in ink.
He didn't even activate his Sharingan.
With a movement so subtle it looked like a glitch in reality, Yao shifted. The punch grazed the air where his ear had been a millisecond prior. In the same breath, Yao's right leg lashed out like a striking viper, his heel driving with surgical precision toward the Chunin's lead knee joint.
"What?" The Chunin gasped, shocked by the sheer economy of Yao's movement. He jerked his leg back, abandoning his offensive to preserve his balance, and raised a knee to intercept the strike.
Thud!
The impact was heavy, dull.
A wave of raw, concussive force traveled through the Chunin's leg, forcing him to stumble back half a step. This kid's strength is wrong, he thought, his arrogance evaporating.
Yao didn't give him time to recalibrate. He pressed forward, his strikes coming like an incoming tide—relentless, rhythmic, and suffocating.
The crowd watched in a growing, stunned silence. The veteran officer found that his years of experience were being systematically dismantled. Yao's movements weren't flashy or exceptionally fast; they were simply perfect. He dodged with the bare minimum of effort and countered from angles that felt mathematically impossible.
It was as if Yao was reading a script the officer hadn't been given.
Outside the ring, Kyoichi and Kaede stood frozen, their mouths slightly agape. This wasn't a "waste" seeking attention. This was a predator.
At the examiner's table, a spark of genuine interest ignited in Yatsushiro's clouded eyes.
"The boy is a revelation," Tekka whispered, a satisfied smirk spreading across his face.
In the arena, the battle reached its zenith. Yao sensed the micro-second the Chunin paused to draw breath. He lunged, his hand flattening into a blade-like chop that whistled toward the side of the officer's neck.
The Chunin tried to twist away, but he was trapped in his own momentum.
Whack!
The sound was sharp, final.
The officer grunted, his knees buckling as his nervous system briefly short-circuited. He slumped forward, barely catching himself before hitting the floor.
Yao withdrew his hand and stepped back, his breathing as calm as if he had just finished a stroll.
"Uchiha Yao. Taijutsu Score: Excellent!" Tekka's voice rang out.
A collective gasp swept through the spectators. "Excellent" was a grade rarely given to anyone below the rank of Tokubetsu Jonin.
"Second Phase: Ninjutsu!"
Tekka continued, "Demonstrate your primary Fire Release. We will judge based on potency, range, and the intricacy of your Chakra molding."
Kyoichi and Kaede performed the Great Fireball. Their flames were respectable, earning them "Upper Average" scores.
Then Yao stepped to the mark.
He drew a long, deep breath. Inside his body, his Chakra began to spin at a frequency that made his meridians hum. His fingers blurred through the signs: Snake – Ram – Monkey – Boar – Horse – Tiger.
"Fire Release: Phoenix Sage Fire Technique!"
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Dozens of fist-sized fireballs erupted from Yao's mouth.
But they didn't scatter in the usual chaotic spread. Instead, they took flight like a swarm of guided missiles. They arced through the air in complex, weaving patterns before converging simultaneously on a single target a hundred meters away—a target no larger than a washbasin.
Boom-boom-boom—!
A rapid-fire staccato of explosions rocked the grounds. The target didn't just break; it was pulverized into a cloud of glowing splinters.
Silence. Absolute, deafening silence.
The Phoenix Sage Fire was a C-rank technique, often dismissed for its lack of raw power. But Yao had elevated it to an art form. The sheer level of multi-tasking required to guide each fireball to a singular, distant point was a feat of Chakra control that bordered on the impossible.
"This... this is just a C-rank move?" Kyoichi muttered, his face pale with a sudden, crushing realization of the gap between them.
Tekka stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the stone. His eyes were wide, burning with a mixture of shock and predatory ecstasy. "A monster! This kid is a pure-blooded monster!"
Even the stoic Yatsushiro allowed a ghost of a smile to touch his lips. He had seen "geniuses" for decades, but never one who wielded basic elements with such terrifying sophistication.
"Uchiha Yao. Ninjutsu Score: Special!"
The crowd erupted. "Special"—the mark of an anomaly.
"Final Phase: Live Combat Simulation!"
Tekka took a breath, forcing his adrenaline back down. "Uchiha Yao... your opponent for this round... is me."
The arena exploded into an uproar.
Uchiha Tekka? A seasoned Jonin and Platoon Leader? He was going to personally test a twelve-year-old? This wasn't an assessment—it was a slaughter.
"Tekka, be reasonable," Yatsushiro frowned, though his eyes sparkled with curiosity.
"Elder, let me have this," Tekka grinned, his fighting spirit igniting. "This boy is a rare treasure. I need to feel the depth of his waters myself!"
He vaulted over the table and landed in the center of the ring, his aura flaring. "Kid! Give me everything. Don't hold back a single drop of your potential!"
Yao's gaze sharpened. The air around him seemed to grow cold as his own aura surged to meet the Jonin's pressure.
A Jonin opponent. Perfect. Let's see how far the System's gifts can take me.
A bloody, crimson light ignited in his orbs. The tomoe spun into focus.
"Please guide me."
Sharingan: Activated.