Inside the training room.
Okamoto exchanged a few more words with Kanda Rokuro, then said, "Get some rest first. Starting tomorrow, you'll join Class Five and train with them. If you have any questions about training, you can come to me—I'll answer all of them."
Kanda Rokuro immediately bowed.
"Thank you, Okamoto-sama!"
Okamoto smiled faintly. "As long as you train well and can advance to Konoha Headquarters as soon as possible—becoming a Special Jōnin or even a Jōnin—that will be the greatest thanks you can give me."
Rokuro nodded seriously.
"Okamoto-sama, don't worry. I will definitely become a Jōnin!"
Okamoto patted Rokuro on the head.
"Let's hope so. Work hard. I've been here for almost six years, and in my opinion, your talent is the best I've seen. That inexhaustible stamina of yours might let you become a taijutsu Jōnin like Might Guy."
Might Guy?
For the first time, Rokuro heard a truly familiar name.
If Okamoto was calling Might Guy a Jōnin, then the current timeline had to be—
A few years before the start of the Naruto story.
Too early?
No.
Too late?
Also no.
If it were too late, the Konoha Orphanage would likely already be gone.
After all, this orphanage had been established under Danzō Shimura. Once Danzō died, the orphanage would no longer exist.
Realizing this, Rokuro let out a huge sigh of relief.
The memories he'd inherited were filled only with hardship—there was nothing about the ninja world itself. He'd always been worried that he might have arrived at an awkward point in time, either too early or too late.
But if it was just a few years before the Naruto storyline began, then there was no real problem.
This period—
Was a relatively peaceful era in the ninja world.
There wouldn't be any large-scale wars that could drag him onto the battlefield before he even finished growing.
He had wanted to ask about the current era a few days ago, but he'd been afraid that asking such questions would draw attention and get him treated like a spy.
With his current small body, he wouldn't survive interrogation.
So he had stayed quiet and focused only on training.
Now that things were clear, he couldn't help asking curiously,
"Okamoto-sama, may I ask who this Might Guy you mentioned is?"
Okamoto smiled.
"Might Guy is a Jōnin. You'll understand once you reach Konoha Headquarters. There, you'll learn all kinds of knowledge about the ninja world. For now, just focus on training. I think you'll be able to go to Konoha Headquarters within a year."
Hearing this, Rokuro stopped asking questions.
If he pressed further, Okamoto might grow suspicious.
He bowed again.
"Okamoto-sama, please take care on your way out."
Okamoto nodded and turned to leave.
At the doorway, he paused and looked back at Rokuro.
"Train hard. Whether I can be transferred back to Headquarters might depend on you."
Ah.
No wonder Okamoto was treating him so well.
If he trained a Jōnin, he'd be able to return to Konoha Headquarters himself.
Watching Okamoto leave, Rokuro shook his head and began looking around the training room.
After wandering for a bit, drowsiness set in.
He returned to the small room in the corner to rest.
The room wasn't large—about the size of a single hotel room—but everything he needed was there.
Rokuro took a shower, then lay down on the bed.
The current era was stable, and he had time to grow stronger.
If he could become a Jōnin before the age of ten, then by the time a great ninja war broke out, he'd at least be Kage-level, which would be enough to save his own life.
And if he grew even stronger—
Then he'd go beat up Uchiha Madara and Ōtsutsuki Kaguya.
Thinking…
Thinking…
Kanda Rokuro slowly fell asleep.
---
Early the next morning.
He went to the training field as usual. Under Okamoto's supervision, he joined Class Five and trained alongside them.
Thanks to his tireless stamina, his progress in Class Five was the fastest as well. Before ten in the morning, he had already completed all the training.
Normally, he would continue training with the group.
But now that he had special privileges, there was no need.
Amid the envious gazes of many children, he returned to his own place to train.
At home, completing training missions was even easier.
By the time he finished, it was almost noon.
He went to the cafeteria, ate, then returned to the training room to continue practicing. These basic exercises earned him nearly 20 experience points per day—and if he wanted to reach Konoha Headquarters as soon as possible, he wouldn't waste a single point.
As for the children at the training field—or his former classmates from Class Nine—he didn't bother with them at all.
It had been eight days since he arrived at the orphanage.
He was already very familiar with the rules here.
Children who came here had no time to build relationships.
Everyone trained desperately.
If you wasted time talking to others and your progress slowed, you might fail the year-end assessment and be expelled.
As a result, most of the children here barely knew one another.
Or rather—
They didn't have the time to.
If a child managed to survive until the age of ten without being eliminated, they would be sent to Konoha Headquarters, trained for two more years, and then become a ROOT genin.
And a ROOT genin—
Was essentially cannon fodder.
Still.
Being cannon fodder was better than going back to starvation.
So many children were willing to grit their teeth and endure until they turned ten.
If they wanted to avoid becoming expendable tools—
They had to rank in the top three of the annual assessment before the age of ten.
Only then would ROOT invest resources into them at Headquarters and properly cultivate them.
At the very least, they'd become chūnin in the future.
Instructor Okamoto himself had come from this background.
Everyone here trained with a sense of crisis.
Naturally, no one cared to socialize.
Like the incident with Fukada Miya seven days ago—if Rokuro hadn't caught Okamoto's attention, Fukada Miya would never have stopped training for him.
Since others ignored him—
He ignored them as well.
Especially Class Nine.
It was only a temporary class. After one month, the bottom half would be sent back to where they came from, while the rest would be merged into Class Eight.
In any case—
Here, there was no friendship.
Everyone just wanted to train hard and survive.