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Chapter 7 – Shadows in the Forest
The morning sun filtered through the thin curtains of Kirito's small apartment. His breath steamed faintly in the cold air as he tightened the straps of his kunai pouch. Another day, another test of his limits.
"Alright… today's focus: elemental infusion," he muttered, flexing his fingers as chakra hummed at his fingertips.
Twelve puffs of smoke appeared around him. Shadow clones filled the room, each pair already understanding their assigned roles.
"You three—wind exercises. Don't slack off on the cutting practice. Keep your chakra flows sharp."
"Understood," one clone saluted before dashing out the window.
"Another three—fire release. Focus on control, not size."
"Got it, boss."
"Two of you—rasengan variations. Infuse it with lightning and fire, see if it stabilizes."
"We'll try not to blow ourselves up," one of them grinned.
"One—academy duty. You know the drill."
"That's me. Ugh… boring lessons again."
"Better you than me," Kirito smirked.
The remaining clones set off, vanishing into the streets or rooftops. Kirito strapped his short blade to his waist, his expression hardening. Physical training would be his personal task today.
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The Forest Challenge
By midday, he stood in the dense undergrowth outside the Forest of Death. The whisper of leaves, the stench of beasts, and the quiet weight of danger filled the air. Perfect training ground.
He walked calmly, suppressing his chakra presence until he was practically invisible. But today wasn't about stealth. Today was about sharpening his instincts.
The bear appeared before him, hulking, growling as it ripped honey from a hive.
Good. A strong one.
The beast roared and lunged. Kirito sidestepped, the swipe of claws grazing the air. His hand flicked, and a shuriken whistled, embedding into the bear's eye.
The creature howled in rage. Kirito's lips curved into the smallest smirk. "Predictable."
He dashed forward, kunai cloaked in razor-thin wind chakra. One clean slash—its throat opened, and the beast collapsed with a heavy thud.
Blood steamed in the cool forest air. Kirito's chest rose steadily. His strikes were efficient, precise. The prey had mistaken him for harmless—like everyone else did.
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Training With Clones
That evening, back at the clearing, clones surrounded him in a circle, each with water balloons in hand.
"Ready?" one asked.
"Do it."
The balloons flew, a barrage from all directions. Kirito twisted, ducked, and flipped, dodging most with sharp movements. Still, three burst against his shoulder and hip, soaking his clothes.
"Too slow," one clone jeered.
Kirito wiped water from his face, grinning. "Again."
The second round began—faster, harsher. His reflexes sharpened under fire.
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The Library Raid
Days later, as his final academy year pressed forward, Kirito sat in the academy library, a bland smile fixed on his face as he flipped through a textbook. Students around him whispered and scribbled notes, never guessing the truth.
The bell rang. Students poured out. But Kirito remained, slipping into the shadows. His concealment jutsu wrapped around him like a cloak, smothering even the faintest chakra trace.
He climbed to the forbidden second floor. His pulse quickened. No seals. Good.
Hands flashed. In a puff of smoke, thirty shadow clones appeared, each darting toward a shelf.
"Memorize everything," he whispered.
Scrolls opened, pages flipped, and knowledge flooded through them. Low-level elemental jutsu, crude genjutsu, even beginner fuinjutsu. His clones worked tirelessly, some scribbling onto stolen scrolls, others committing diagrams to memory.
"Boss, this sealing stuff looks tricky," one whispered.
"Copy it. We'll study later," Kirito ordered.
When their work was done, he dismissed them one by one, spacing out the bursts of memory. By the time he stumbled back to his apartment, his head throbbed. The last clone popped just as he collapsed into bed.
Before sleep claimed him, one thought echoed in his mind.
I need more. Stronger jutsu. Stronger skills. Strong enough to never be prey again.
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