Futile
At this moment, Homura Mitokado and the other Konoha observers watching the battle noticed the situation—but it was already too late. Everything had been revealed, and there was no point in regretting it now.
Besides, Minato's trump card was the Flying Thunder God Technique (Hiraishin no Jutsu). Even if something had been exposed, it wouldn't matter—he'd still win in the end.
That's right, they were that confident.
Minato and his team's match perfectly demonstrated the gap between ninja trained in the great villages and wandering shinobi. Throughout the entire fight, Minato and his two teammates didn't use a single ninjutsu—not even the basic Three Body Techniques (Henge, Bunshin, or Kawarimi).
Instead, they relied purely on taijutsu, dismantling their opponents with speed and precision.
It was pure bad luck for the wandering ninja. They had made it to the second round, and if they had faced an ordinary team, they might still have lost, but they could at least have displayed their abilities. Even then, there was a chance they might catch the eye of a smaller village and be recruited. While they'd probably never be trusted with important missions, they could at least secure a more stable life for their future children.
That was the unspoken hope for most wandering ninjas—they knew their chances of becoming Chūnin were slim, but they still came seeking a better future for their families… even if those families didn't yet exist.
These three, however, had the misfortune of meeting Minato's squad. In just a handful of exchanges, they were decisively defeated—without a chance to show a fraction of their skills. Their dreams were crushed on the spot.
Watching Minato's fighting style—his seamless integration of kunai into close combat—Shirō suddenly realized something. In his own close-range fights, he tended to rely solely on his fists. That was… a disadvantage.
"Shirō, let's go. What are you thinking about?" Minato called out as he stepped out of the examination hall.
"Oh—nothing. Coming."
Now wasn't the time to get lost in thought. Shirō shelved the idea for later and followed after Minato and his team.
Of the four Konoha teams in this exam, Minato's squad and Shirō's squad had already advanced. One had been eliminated, and the results for the last rookie team would be announced tomorrow.
Shirō wasn't close with that team, so he and Minato's group decided to have a small private celebration. Minato was initially reluctant—but eventually relented. After all, you couldn't really ask someone to watch you celebrate, could you?
In the end, though, the celebration fell flat.
Shirō was thoroughly unimpressed with the food here. Compared to Konoha's cuisine—which he already found barely acceptable—Sunagakure's meals just didn't cut it. The only thing it had going for it was the unique local flavor.
In his past life, this wouldn't have been a big deal. But when it came to a celebration, he believed good food was essential. And here? Not even worth the effort.
Transmigration, Shirō concluded, was not all it was cracked up to be—especially if your "cheat" wasn't overwhelmingly powerful.
As a semi-shut-in from his old world, he knew how to cook, but the lack of familiar seasonings, unfamiliar names for ingredients, and the outright absence of some spices made things difficult. And truthfully, he didn't like cooking—he just knew how because his family had insisted he learn. So, rather than fuss, he ate simply.
The group ended the night early, saving their energy for the next day's intelligence gathering.
Back in his room, Shirō didn't start cultivating immediately. Instead, he took out paper and pen to sketch. The image of Minato's kunai technique was still fresh in his mind.
Since his current chakra reserves were insufficient to freely replicate it through Projection Magic, he would need physical tools for the time being. And thanks to Reinforcement Magic, even something as simple as paper could cut through household-grade iron.
(Granted, not the kind used for ninja tools—that was a whole different level of metal.)
Shirō began with a rough draft for the blacksmith. The result… was the kind of "rough" that could get mistaken for modern art.
"Emmm… too abstract. No one will understand this. Let's try again."
Ten drawings later, he stared at the pile of paper.
"…I'm really an abstract artist who was tragically delayed by realism," he muttered shamelessly.
Resorting to a shortcut, he projected the Noble Phantasm of a renowned painter. With the skill boost, it only took two or three more tries to get a proper sketch—though the delay wasn't due to the Heroic Spirit's lack of skill, but because Shirō's body couldn't yet keep up with the technique.
It was the same as with weapon projections: while the summoned item came with the original user's combat experience, that mastery faded the moment the projection ended. Without regular practice, he couldn't retain it.
That settled it—he'd start training in this new fighting style now, so when he could finally Project it in battle, he'd be able to unleash its full potential.
The next morning, he visited the blacksmith to commission the weapon based on his final sketch. Since it didn't require special chakra metals, the blacksmith accepted without hesitation.
From there, Shirō went to watch Rasa's match.
It was brief. Having made a name for himself during the Second Shinobi War with his glittering Magnet Release techniques, Rasa was already in the bingo books of several villages. Against a team of Amegakure ninja, he didn't even give them a chance to speak—binding them instantly with swirling streams of Gold Dust.
"Tsk, tsk… now that's impressive," Shirō said, eyes fixed on the golden sand.
"Yes. He's strong," Minato agreed, though their focuses were clearly different.
"I've got a feeling Rasa will be the next Kazekage," Shirō said suddenly.
"Why? I heard Sasori's not bad either," Minato replied.
The others perked up at this. Intelligence suggested Sasori's talent was at least on par with Rasa's. Just because the Third Kazekage wielded Magnet Release didn't mean his successor would. The Second Kazekage had been a puppeteer, after all.
"Because he's rich! Isn't that reason enough? You think Sunagakure's like our Konoha?"
"…" × N
Though they stared at him speechlessly, his point was valid.
The Land of Wind was poor. Maintaining a shinobi village required funding. Rasa's so-called Magnet Release was, in reality, Gold Release. In a place where gold meant power, influence, and stability, his ability struck directly at the village's needs.
They just hadn't thought of it before—too used to Konoha's standards for choosing a Hokage.