"First, taijutsu training. Everyone must meet the standard set by Might Duy."
Shiragusa Ryosuke announced the orders that had been secretly exchanged earlier. "I heard Might Duy's famous for being dead last. You're not telling me you're even worse than him, are you?"
You've gotta be kidding!
Most ninja snorted in contempt, but a few who actually knew about Might Duy were already turning pale.
"Damn it, damn it—we're doomed. This is going to be hell training."
Taijutsu training matching Might Duy's level?
They felt utterly hopeless.
Some of them didn't get it at first—after all, Might Duy wasn't well known. His performance in the recent Illusion Realm made him seem like an easy target to some observers, so many assumed he was significantly weaker than average.
But soon, they realized their mistake.
Normally no one would eat before training. Common sense dictated running slowly to conserve energy until lunchtime.
However,
This guy looked like he was on steroids. Not only did he run fast, but he kept going for several minutes without showing any sign of running out of breath.
Are you some kind of devil!?
Many shot Might Duy looks bordering on resentment. If this kept up, everyone would be completely wiped out.
Time dragged on.
No one could tell how long they'd been running—only that they had started keeping up with Might Duy, then later couldn't see him at all, and eventually saw him coming from behind again.
They figured this kid was just plain stubborn and stupid. There was clearly no punishment or supervision from the environment around them.
Why bother taking this training seriously? It would've been easy to slack off.
Yet Might Duy kept running at the same pace as ever, muttering things like, "If I don't finish five hundred laps, I'll do two hundred push-ups after lunch—no excuses."
Eventually, everyone collapsed, completely drained, while Might Duy alone kept going.
At first, there was jealousy and hatred toward him—but by the end, they couldn't even bring themselves to feel those emotions anymore.
In the ninja world, strength ruled supreme.
This guy's stamina was beyond monstrous—it was like he was miles ahead of all of them—like they didn't even belong on the same planet.
Just then, finally, came Shige Nohara bearing Akaba's orders.
The morning training was over. Time for lunch.
"Good. Since everyone except Might Duy failed to complete their task, you all have to eat our Preparatory Division's special body-enhancing meal."
A cold smirk spread across Akaba's face.
Of course, this so-called "body-enhancing meal" was anything but decent. It was a nutritional supplement specially developed by Orochimaru through researching and compiling body-conditioning methods from the Hatake, Nara, and Akimichi clan collections.
Its effects were potent—though not quite as effective at physical recovery as Military Rations Pills, it had absolutely no side effects and contained every nutrient essential for human growth.
However, its taste was absolutely terrible—even Jiraiya, who was used to eating insects, couldn't stand it.
"Just a heads-up: If you don't finish it, your body won't handle what comes next. So our kind instructors have prepared second helpings—make sure none of it gets left behind or thrown back up."
Second helpings? Vomit?
Nara Loe's face turned completely pale.
Hearing those words, based on his understanding of Akaba, this so-called "body-enhancing meal" was definitely nothing good.
Before long
Only an endless series of strange gurgling sounds filled the air. Someone wanted to throw up but, recalling Akaba's words, dared not do so—covering their mouth and swallowing hard instead.
Vomiting was contagious, especially when everyone had eaten the exact same thing.
Nearby, Orochimaru kept scribbling notes in his small notebook, recording feedback from the scene.
By evening, everyone felt like they were about to fall apart. Several kunoichi could no longer endure it and collapsed mid-training, bursting into tears on the ground.
Yet the demons showed no mercy—they forced them to down a second serving of the body-enhancing meal.
Like I said before, it works—just tastes awful.
In the Hokage Office.
A group of clan leaders, big and small, sat inside a meeting room, watching the training field's live feed through a crystal ball.
After all, this was the Preparatory Division's very first day of training—everyone was highly invested in observing.
But then—
As afternoon arrived and training neared its end, one clan leader finally spoke up: "Isn't this training too harsh?"
"Yeah, even many elite genin might struggle to endure such intensity."
"Chiyu is pushing things too far."
One after another, the clan leaders voiced their concerns.
Many of them had disciples among the trainees. Seeing their own people suffering like this filled them with deep unease.
Throughout everything, the Uchiha, Hyūga, Sarutobi, and other clans remained silent.
Too harsh?
Compared to the old method—where jōnin guided lower-ranked ninja through missions—this was brutal and severe. Yet there was no denying that progress in strength was visible to all.
Whether or not they could persist—that was the real question now.
The Third took a puff of his pipe, then looked toward Motonami Uchiha and asked, "Motonami, what's your take on this?"
"Honored Leader, I believe Chiyu has his own standards. It's only the first day—we don't need to intervene yet. Let's observe further results."
Motonami Uchiha respectfully replied.
"I agree."
Hyūga Zuo exchanged a glance with The Third, instantly understood his implicit meaning, and quickly voiced his agreement.
"There's nothing to worry about," interjected the Akimichi clan head. "This formula for the body-enhancing meal was developed by Orochimaru after exchanging sacred, ancestral knowledge between our several clans. We've tested it ourselves. While the short-term effects aren't as strong as Military Rations Pills, long-term usage will definitely surpass them."
Just this body-enhancing meal alone cost a fortune, draining significant village funds. If it weren't genuinely effective, The Third wouldn't have approved funding in the first place.
Precisely because of this belief, he wholeheartedly supported it.
Seeing how things were going, others quickly changed their tune. Soon, every clan head was speaking in favor—even offering to send supplies to the Preparatory Training Field.
Nightfall.
After finishing yet another hellish meal, they slumped down in the dim woods.
The only reason they hadn't just collapsed on the spot and fallen asleep was that the instructors hadn't officially called it bedtime yet. Everyone was utterly exhausted beyond movement.
Many female trainees wished to shower, but clearly under these circumstances, there was no way unless they could endure being watched by over a hundred people at once.
As for requesting better facilities from above—their instructors would never allow it.
In just one day, they'd already accepted reality.
"Everyone did poorly today. But since it's the first day, I'll cut you some slack. Let's try something different tonight."
Akaba appeared again.
He had napped through the afternoon and now looked wide awake and energetic.
The people below him, however, felt completely different—they hated Akaba by now and absolutely didn't want to see his face.
"He won't even let us rest properly tonight. Could he show a bit of humanity?"
Nara Loe wanted to mutter a curse under his breath.
Hadn't they been promised special treatment as the class monitor—the class representative in the Preparatory Division?
Total fake camaraderie!
"Cough cough," Akaba smiled slightly. "Don't worry, I'll treat everyone to an anime as tonight's activity. Naturally though, watching comes at a price—everyone must write a reflection afterward. The title is 'If I Were Naruto Uzumaki.'"
Anime?
Loe recalled what Akaba had mentioned earlier about anime-based lessons.
Watch first, then write reflections—that's how this "anime education" works. But could he apply to opt out?
Loe found such reflection writing extremely troublesome. Yet instinct told him, refusing participation probably led to worse consequences than simply doing it.
Shiragusa Ryosuke hurriedly asked, "Can we participate too?"
He'd read some manga before, but honestly, he'd never found them especially interesting—they were just ways to pass the time when bored. But anime sounded exciting—it was something new.
"Of course."
Akaba nodded, then quickly formed hand seals as the illusion activated.
In an instant, everyone was pulled separately into individual illusions.
It was like casting genjutsu on over a hundred people simultaneously. Without Yumekuma clan abilities, even Akaba would struggle to accomplish this.
Within the illusion, each person experienced life through Naruto Uzumaki's eyes.
A five- or six-year-old orphan wandering streets filled with scornful and hostile gazes.
Back home, he ate donated food and drinks. His life was filled with suffocation and despair.
Such experiences weren't common even among many aristocratic disciples or commoners/orphans alike. Though only brief life segments, the immersive empathy here surpassed anything conveyed in comic or even animated form.
Fragment after fragment: school days meeting Sasuke, graduation exams...
While reading the manga these episodes hadn't moved people much, yet now everyone felt Naruto's childhood was pitch-dark without any hope.
Then came the encounter with Iruka.
Iruka held immense significance for Naruto—he was the first ray of sunlight Naruto ever saw. Without him, perhaps Naruto's life would have taken a completely different turn.
The illusion lifted.
Nobody spoke immediately, all silently ruminating what they'd experienced.
The sensation of direct involvement was totally different from mere observation—you could truly feel looked down upon, despised, and hated, experiencing Naruto's pain and hopelessness firsthand.
Even when Iruka appeared and Naruto went from desperation to hope, many still couldn't relax. That's why no one was ready to speak just yet.
"Finished watching? Please submit your reflections promptly."
Akaba seemed somewhat exhausted.
Performing such large-scale genjutsu, even with Yumekuma support, left him drained. That said, Zhi Meng's progress recently had indeed accelerated remarkably.
Akaba could now clearly sense that Zhi Meng had become significantly stronger than before. At the very least, she no longer passed out minutes after using a jutsu, and her handling of Secret Techniques had improved a lot.
"Yes."
Everyone answered in unison.
Before experiencing it, many had found writing a reflection tedious. But once they went through it, everyone was deeply moved—wanting to say something yet unable to find the right words.
If they could put it into writing, it would indeed be a rather good method.
It wasn't only the genin who felt this way; even the instructors were profoundly touched, each one slipping into deep thought in turn.
From the perspective of the instructors, their feelings weren't limited to just this. They further understood why Akaba had gone to such great lengths to create this genjutsu, allowing everyone to experience Naruto's life.
If someone like Naruto, under such harsh and difficult circumstances, could persevere and ultimately stand out during the Chunin Exams, then what reason did they have to slack off?
Of course.
Those who knew what came next recognized this instantly as a pure bowl of toxic chicken soup.
He was The Fourth's son, with ridiculous advantages like the Nine-Tails, immense chakra reserves, and reincarnation as Asura himself. With so many absurd privileges, how could he not grow stronger?
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