The entire stadium watched in anticipation. The atmosphere had shifted from combat to ceremony, the violence replaced by pageantry. The crowd's noise had faded to a low murmur, their attention fixed on the centre of the arena where the champion stood.
Hiruzen Sarutobi stepped forward first. "Yamanaka Satoru," he began, "you have demonstrated intelligence, adaptability, courage, and the ability to represent Konoha on the international stage. You have faced opponents who were stronger, faster, and more experienced, and you have emerged victorious. Today, you have proven that the Will of Fire burns brightly in the next generation."
He paused, letting the words settle. "As Hokage, I have the authority to reward exceptional performance. And you, Satoru, have been exceptional."
He gestured, and an attendant stepped forward with a scroll, its seal marked with the Konoha leaf. "Your first reward: permission to choose one B-Rank ninjutsu from Konoha's restricted shinobi archives. You may select any technique that does not require a bloodline limit or clan-specific training."
The crowd reacted; most civilians thought it was simply a powerful technique, something flashy and impressive. But experienced shinobi realised the true value of the offer. A B-Rank technique was difficult to acquire, normally unavailable to ordinary shinobi, often restricted to clan members or military elites. It could define an entire fighting style, shape a shinobi's career, and provide capabilities that would otherwise take years to develop.
A B-Rank technique. That is not just power; it is an investment. Even getting that in the Yamanaka clan would need me to go through numerous hoops. I need to choose carefully, something that complements my existing abilities, something that fills a gap in my arsenal. Satoru thought.
He immediately began thinking about possible future choices; not specific techniques yet, but categories. Something that enhanced his tactical versatility. Something that could be integrated with the Mind Mirror series. Something that would be useful in the kinds of missions he would face as a chūnin.
Hiruzen continued, his voice warm. "Your second reward: a personal Hokage recommendation. This recommendation grants you permission to study under an elite jōnin instructor if one agrees to accept you."
Satoru's internal thoughts sharpened. This is worth far more than the B-Rank technique. Elite jōnin possess decades of combat experience, personalised guidance, access to advanced missions, and networking within Konoha's military. Should I just directly choose Jiraiya?
He recognised the wisdom in Hiruzen's choice. The recommendation could shape his entire future, open doors that would otherwise remain closed, and accelerate his growth in ways that no single technique could match.
The crowd's reaction was mixed. Konoha supporters cheered loudly, their pride evident. Experienced shinobi nodded approvingly, understanding the value of the offer. Some foreign jōnin whispered to each other, their voices low. "That recommendation is worth a fortune." Even Suna shinobi acknowledged the value, their expressions betraying grudging respect.
Rasa stepped forward next. His expression was composed, dignified, the face of a leader who had accepted defeat with grace. "Yamanaka Satoru," he said, his voice carrying across the arena, "strength deserves recognition regardless of village. You have proven yourself today, and Sunagakure honours that."
He gestured, and attendants revealed an elegant sand-colored storage gourd. Its surface was smooth, its craftsmanship exquisite, its design practical and beautiful. "This storage gourd contains practical supplies for a shinobi's survival: soldier pills, an emergency water supply, high-quality sealing tags, hidden senbon, hidden kunai, wire, and basic medical supplies. Everything is compactly sealed and accessible."
Satoru examined the gourd. It was not a Magnet Release artefact, but it was still invaluable.
Practical, he thought. Rasa knows that a shinobi's survival depends on preparation. This gourd could save my life on a long mission.
Rasa then presented a second gift: a small ingot of high-grade chakra metal. It gleamed dully in the light, its surface smooth, its composition dense. "Chakra metal," Rasa explained. "It can be forged into a chakra-conducting weapon; a sword, a knife, a custom tool. It is not useful now, but it will be."
Satoru understood immediately. This is an investment. I cannot use it today, but later, it could become a weapon that defines my fighting style. Rasa is not just giving me a gift; he is giving me potential.
He appreciated Rasa's practicality. Unlike treasure or luxury, everything received today would make him survive future missions. The gourd would sustain him; the metal would arm him; the techniques and recommendations would train him.
He silently thanked the Kazekage for his foresight.
In the Konoha section, Team Five watched with a mixture of pride and excitement. Ren was practically vibrating, his voice barely contained. "You basically got a future! A B-Rank technique, an elite instructor recommendation, and a custom weapon! That is insane!"
Mariko nodded, her expression impressed. "The recommendation is the most valuable part. He knows exactly how valuable elite mentorship is. A good instructor can turn a talented genin into a legendary shinobi."
Sayuri showed subtle approval, her smile thin but genuine. She already understood which elite instructors might become interested in Satoru. Each one could shape Satoru's future in different ways.
Taeko laughed, his voice booming. "Those rewards are worth more than most chūnin earn in years. Your student has done well, Sayuri."
Sayuri's voice was calm. "He has done more than well. He has proven himself."
The crowd's reaction to the rewards was varied. Civilians mostly admired the gourd, its craftsmanship and practicality appealing to their sensibilities. But experienced shinobi focused almost entirely on the recommendation and the chakra metal. Some even remarked, their voices low, "The Hokage expects greatness. That recommendation is a statement of intent."
Satoru bowed respectfully to both Kages, his body trembling with the effort. The Kages returned to their seats, and the crowd slowly began to disperse. The ceremony was over; the champion had been honoured.
Later, Ren and Satoru used Transformation Jutsu once more, their appearances altered, their identities concealed. Neither wanted attention; the chaos of the tournament had been overwhelming, and the scrutiny of the public was exhausting. They moved through the streets of Sunagakure, their steps purposeful, their destination clear.
The betting office was busy, its staff processing the final payouts. The manager recognised them despite their disguises; not their identities, but their betting history. The two customers who had placed massive wagers on the Konoha champion.
Ren approached the counter, his voice light. "We are here to collect."
The staff member verified their slips, his eyes widening as he calculated the amounts. "Your winnings are… substantial," he said, his voice careful. "We will need to process them through the central office."
Satoru's internal thoughts were sharp despite his exhaustion. The odds changed during the tournament. When I first bet, I was a longshot; twelve to one. After defeating Mio and Kaito, my odds improved to six to one. The timing of my bets matters.
He had placed his first bet before the tournament, 10,000 ryō at 12× odds, yielding 120,000 ryō. He had withdrawn those winnings before the finals, then placed everything back on himself at the updated 6× odds. The final payout was 720,000 ryō; an enormous amount for a newly promoted chūnin.
Ren's winnings were also substantial. He had lost his initial bet on himself in the first round, but his side wager on Satoru at 12× odds had paid out before the final, yielding 5,000 ryō. He had reinvested that at 6× odds, resulting in 30,000 ryō.
The staff processed the payouts, their expressions a mixture of professionalism and curiosity. One employee whispered to another, "Those two are either the luckiest gamblers we have ever had…" The other replied, "…or they knew something nobody else did." The manager made a note, his curiosity piqued, but nothing came of it.
Professional curiosity, nothing more.
Ren could not stop smiling. He counted his money repeatedly, his voice rising with each tally. "We are rich. Actually rich. What are we going to do with all of this?" He started making ridiculous suggestions; buying restaurants, taking vacations, eating barbecue every day.
Satoru stored his money quietly, his mind already turning toward more serious considerations. This amount is life-changing. I can buy better equipment, custom chakra weapons, advanced sealing supplies, medical supplies, books, jutsu research materials. I can invest in training, saving for future missions. Money is another form of power; not because it buys luxury, but because it buys options.
He thought about the chakra metal Rasa had given him, the B-Rank technique he could choose, the elite instructor he could study under. The money added another layer; he could fund his own development, accelerate his growth, and prepare for the challenges ahead.
For the first time in both of his lives, he had more money than he knew how to spend. He looked at the enormous amount now in his possession, his thoughts quiet, reflective.
So, he wondered, what should I do with all of it?
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