Chapter 17 – Chen
After training with Guy for a while, Nan finally understood why, among all the ordinary ninja who managed to fight those late-game god-tier monsters, only someone as seemingly talentless as Guy could do it.
It was because Guy truly went all out—he trained like a madman, with absolutely no restraint.
He punched until his fists literally couldn't move, kicked until his legs refused to lift, and ran until he collapsed.
He wouldn't stop unless he passed out—and even more terrifyingly, once he had actually passed out from exhaustion, yet his body kept moving, continuing the training purely on instinct.
That kind of willpower was insane. Maybe only someone with that level of resolve could rise from a mediocre background and achieve power comparable to a god.
For a taijutsu ninja, strength came not just from muscles, but from how much chakra they could channel through their bodies. And Guy's training had no technical finesse. There was no secret technique to improve his strength—just pure, relentless, brutal repetition. He simply kept breaking his limits, forcing his body to evolve and adapt to ever-increasing chakra loads.
Nan, with his skinny arms and legs, had a tough time enduring that kind of torment.
This wasn't the kind of training he needed, but he had no other option for now. So he grit his teeth and pushed himself to follow Guy's insane pace as best he could.
Fortunately, he discovered that this "breakthrough-the-limit" style of training helped him absorb that excess energy in his body much faster.
Every time he reached exhaustion, that mysterious energy would help him recover rapidly—and the more he pushed himself, the more his physical stats improved afterward.
On top of that, Nan could use medical ninjutsu via his clones at home to heal, allowing him to barely keep up.
But after a while, he realized this approach was unsustainable. Yes, it was more effective than his own training, but still far from efficient.
He was hitting his limits faster, taking longer to recover, and his gains were shrinking.
He understood—he was over-drafting his body. He needed to stop this extreme training before it caused lasting damage.
He was only six years old. Subjecting his developing body to this kind of stress could seriously impair his growth and future health.
Even though Nan had techniques like Formless Reincarnation to recover from injuries, that couldn't fix developmental issues.
If he stunted his growth and didn't grow tall, that would be a huge problem. Sacrificing the future for temporary strength just wasn't worth it.
He also recalled how, among Guy's future three students, only Lee could keep up with this kind of training.
Human potential does have limits. Willpower alone can't defy the laws of nature. Hard work doesn't always equal results.
Those who succeed using methods like this must possess some rare, hidden talent—just like Guy once said to Lee: a genius of hard work.
But Nan wasn't that kind of genius. So this path wasn't for him.
The next day, he told Guy honestly and asked if he knew any taijutsu ninja with more refined techniques.
Guy understood—Nan's body wasn't built for his style of training. But he genuinely didn't know any skilled taijutsu specialists to refer him to.
"Most taijutsu-focused ninja are seen as useless. We're a bunch of muscle-headed idiots, like me—good for nothing except brute effort," Guy said with a sigh.
Then he added, "There was one taijutsu master I knew—Master Chen. But he's dead now. If he were still alive, maybe he could've helped you."
Nan froze.
"Master Chen? Chen ! Right! How could I forget about him?"
He suddenly remembered—yes, in the original storyline, there was such a person. A true taijutsu master, famous not only in Konoha, but even known across the other villages.
Like Guy, he was a pure taijutsu user—and he even had a disciple who also specialized solely in taijutsu.
Chen had poured his heart into training that student into a proper ninja. But on the battlefield, the student was killed because he couldn't use ninjutsu—his greatest weakness exposed.
Heartbroken, Chen gave up on the world. He even built his own grave and declared himself dead, retiring into seclusion and cutting ties with everyone.
The villagers assumed he really had died. It wasn't until years later, during the Fourth Great Ninja War, that he reappeared—resurrected by Kabuto's Edo Tensei technique.
But Nan knew the truth. Chen wasn't dead—not yet. And he'd still be alive by the time the main plot began.
Chen could generate tornadoes with nothing but his powerful kicks—his strength was easily on par with Guy after opening six gates. There was no doubt: he was a Kage-level taijutsu ninja.
This man was a true expert. Even the adult Guy from the original series couldn't defeat him. Probably no one in the world understood taijutsu better than Chen.
If Nan could receive his guidance, he could surely complete the development of his hybrid nin-taijutsu.
But how could he get Chen to help him? That was the tricky part. Nan needed to think it through carefully.
So he asked Guy, "Do you happen to know where Master Chen used to live?"
Guy blinked. "I do, but... why are you asking?"
Nan had already come up with a plan.
"Think about it, Guy. A man as powerful as Master Chen, with no successor—he wouldn't want his techniques to vanish forever, right? Maybe... just maybe... he left behind a scroll. A martial arts manual recording everything he knew!"
Guy looked confused. "A... martial arts manual? What's that?"
Nan kept going.
"You know, in novels there are always stories like this—a dumb kid accidentally finds a scroll left by a powerful master and learns all his secret techniques, becoming a legendary warrior!"
Guy's eyes lit up. Nan was reeling him in.
Nan leaned closer. "What if... we go to Master Chen's old home and find his secret scroll? We could learn his skills and carry on his legacy!"
Guy's jaw dropped. "You mean... we might be able to learn his techniques too?!"
He'd never read a novel in his life, but Nan's words made perfect sense to him.
He'd once seen Master Chen from afar, unleashing his signature move Leaf Dragon God. That majestic display had left a deep impression on him.
Now, the mere idea of inheriting his teacher's legacy had Guy trembling with excitement.
Nan could see his plan was working. Guy looked like he was already imagining himself performing the Leaf Dragon God move.
Of course, Nan knew the real deal: Chen wasn't dead at all. But he couldn't say that out loud.
So this whole "secret scroll" thing was just a made-up excuse to get Guy interested enough to help him go find Chen.
In the end, whether or not they could convince Chen to help—it would all depend on Guy's role in this.
Sure enough, without Nan even needing to ask, Guy enthusiastically volunteered to take him to Master Chen's old home to search for the legendary martial arts manual.
Nan walked slowly, but Guy was so fired up he kept urging him to hurry. Nan just shook his head and chuckled.
Soon, the two of them arrived at the mountain where Chen had gone into seclusion. Nan deliberately had Guy take him to the grave Chen had built for himself.
Guy was puzzled. "Aren't we looking for the manual? Why are we stopping at his grave?"
Nan explained, "It's respectful. If we want to learn his techniques, the least we can do is greet him properly first."
Guy nodded approvingly. "You're thoughtful as always."
But Nan's real reason for coming here was to accidentally run into Chen. He even timed their visit for lunch—when Chen would usually show up.
Right on cue, as they approached the grave, they saw a young man kneeling and placing three rice balls as offerings.
Turns out, this was Chen 's son.
He firmly believed his father was still alive—because every day, the rice balls he left at the grave would mysteriously disappear by the next morning.
Nan knew the truth—but he said to Guy, "How could a dead man eat rice balls? Must've been a thief."
Guy grew furious. "A thief?! Even daring to steal food meant for Master Chen's spirit? That's unforgivable! I'd beat them half to death!"
And just as lunchtime hit, right on schedule, Chen arrived at his own grave to pick up the rice balls.