When Shane Mountain explained the reasoning behind his method, Minato paused, thought for a moment, and then his eyes lit up. A bright grin spread across his face.
"Shane, you really are a genius!"
Shane chuckled outwardly, though inwardly he felt a flicker of guilt. He wasn't a genius at all—at least not in the way Minato believed. He was a thief of ideas, a man who had carried knowledge from another world into this one.
Still, the Rasengan of this world was brought here by me. No one can ever expose that truth…
That afternoon was consumed by training. Minato worked tirelessly on the third stage of the Rasengan, struggling to compress and control the storm of wild chakra into the confined space of a balloon.
Meanwhile, Shane practiced some distance away, focusing on refining his own dangerous technique—Chidori. Sparks of lightning chakra hissed and crackled around his hand, unstable and vicious. At any moment, the jutsu threatened to spin out of control.
A sudden explosion echoed through the field. Shane staggered back, electricity sparking across the ground like wild serpents. He appeared beside Minato with a rueful sigh.
"That was close. Nearly took me out."
Minato didn't even flinch. Weeks of enduring Shane's volatile training had numbed him to such displays. Though Shane always claimed it was dangerous, Minato had quietly observed: every single time, Shane managed to destabilize and eject the chakra just before it turned deadly. Not once had even the hem of his sleeve been singed.
Shane rubbed at his temple, a dull fatigue weighing on his mind. His spirit was worn thin, and he knew continuing in this state would be foolish.
If only I knew the hand signs for Chidori, he thought grimly. Trying to force it out without seals is just too difficult…
The days passed in relentless practice. Shane's progress with Chidori was slow, but there was progress. He had already managed to use lightning chakra to stimulate his muscles, pushing his body to move faster than ever before.
Minato, on the other hand, had finally mastered the Rasengan. Recently, he had even begun thinking about taking it further.
"Shane," he said one afternoon during a break, "what if I poured more chakra into the Rasengan? Couldn't that increase its power?"
Shane gave a short laugh. "As long as you've got enough chakra, the Rasengan can grow as large as you want. In theory, it has no limit."
With that, he casually shared the concept of the Giant Rasengan, an idea that had not yet been conceived in this world. Minato's eyes lit up, but his excitement quickly dimmed when he tried it himself.
The Rasengan in his palm swelled slightly in size, only for his chakra reserves to plummet alarmingly. He released the technique, panting.
"Tch. And here I thought I had plenty of chakra. Turns out it's nowhere near enough."
"Don't let it get to you," Shane reassured him. "Chakra grows as we age. We're only eleven. By the time we're older, you might be throwing around giant Rasengans like nothing."
Minato nodded thoughtfully, but his mind refused to rest. He began to consider new directions for the jutsu.
"Have you ever tried developing the Rasengan further?" he asked. "I feel like it still has huge potential."
"I've thought about it," Shane admitted, shaking his head with a touch of regret. "But our bodies right now just aren't ready."
He knew that adding elemental nature transformations into the Rasengan would create devastating results—like the Rasenshuriken Naruto would one day wield. But such techniques were not only incredibly difficult, they were also dangerous. Even Naruto had nearly destroyed himself before Sage Mode gave him the durability to handle it.
Shane, blessed with the monstrous physique of his One Piece counterpart, could probably survive the backlash. But he was in no hurry to reveal such inhuman resilience. With someone like Danzo lurking among Konoha's leadership, the moment Shane displayed abnormal gifts, he risked being dragged away as a test subject.
Better to keep my head down. At least until I can protect myself fully.
He glanced at Minato. Unlike him, Minato had no bloodline limit, no monstrous power hidden within. His path to greatness was sheer talent and relentless drive.
"This guy's a freak of nature too," Shane muttered under his breath with a wry smile.
He didn't realize Minato was having his own thoughts at the same time.
Shane's physical strength is way beyond mine. If even he doesn't dare fuse elements into the Rasengan, then it must be truly dangerous. But his talent… it's terrifying. He's already so far ahead of me, even though we're the same age.
Minato clenched his fists with determination. Fine then. If I can't surpass him in raw ninjutsu, I'll beat him somewhere else. I'll master sealing techniques. Shane doesn't have access to those, but Kushina does. I'll study with her, get far ahead in that field. And one day, Shane will have no choice but to come begging me for help!
Satisfied with his private resolve, Minato went off that very afternoon to meet Kushina instead of training with Shane. Together, they began their lessons in the intricate art of sealing.
The next morning came with an unexpected summons.
"Team Five, assemble!"
Shane received the message at dawn. He and his two teammates—one boy and one girl—arrived promptly at the meeting point.
Their jōnin leader, Captain Arlen Greenfield, stood waiting. He was in his early twenties, with dark hair, a lean build, and the forest-green vest of a Leaf jōnin. Faint bloodstains marked the fabric, a reminder of the battles raging on the frontlines.
"You're here," Arlen said flatly, eyeing the three fresh-faced genin before him. There was no warmth in his gaze. If anything, it carried a trace of pity.
Poor kids. Unlucky enough to come of age in a time of war.
Shane nodded politely, as did his teammates—Samuel Yates, a stocky, serious boy, and Claire Rivers, a sharp-eyed girl with auburn hair. The three of them were classmates from the Academy, though not close until now.
Arlen exhaled slowly. Part of him wanted to send them straight back to the Academy. What use were half-trained children against the storm that was coming? But he had no time to babysit. Orders were orders.
He pushed the thought aside and announced their mission.
"Your assignment is a C-rank escort mission. It will require you to leave the village. Go back, prepare your gear, and meet me at the front gate in one hour."
With that, Arlen disappeared in a flicker of movement, leaving the three genin staring at each other.
"Wait… we're leaving the village? Already?" Samuel blurted out, eyes wide with disbelief. For weeks, their sensei had barely paid them any attention, and Samuel had been half-convinced they'd been abandoned altogether. To suddenly be sent on an out-of-village mission—it was almost too good to be true.
Claire grinned, excitement sparking in her eyes. "This is it. Our first real mission."
Shane gave a calm smile, unwilling to dampen their enthusiasm. "Alright then. We'll meet at the gate in an hour."
"Right!"
The three genin parted ways, each heading home to gather supplies for their first journey beyond Konoha's walls.
For Shane Mountain, this was more than just a mission. It was the first step toward carving out his own path in a world teetering on the brink of war.
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