News of the exam overhaul swept Konoha like a gale.
When genin heard this year's Chūnin Exams would be jointly hosted with Sunagakure and Hidden Stone—and that the contents were nothing like before—the wailing hit festival levels.
Chūnin promotion was brutal even on a normal year (sub-1% pass rate). Now? Salt in a kunai wound.
"Whoever did this—if I find him, I swear—"
"I knew I should've taken it last year…"
"How were we supposed to predict a reboot?!"
"Are we doomed again this year?"
The loudest complaints came from last year's grads. If they'd known this was coming, they would've rolled the dice months earlier.
Not Sogetsu's problem.
"Our target," said Nara Shikaku, fingers tented under his chin, eyes sharp, "is to eliminate ninety-nine percent."
…Who ticked him off? Sogetsu kept the thought to himself and asked, "If we wash out that many, doesn't it hurt next year's intake?"
"Fire Lord's directive," Shikaku replied. "Chūnin selection isn't judged by final pass count but by candidate performance. And the real objective is to intimidate Suna and Iwa—show them Konoha's depth and pre-align a coalition. The cull is part of the message."
Got it: don't sweat the ratios. Swing for the fences.
"You pitched the plan; talk next steps," Shikaku said. "If you need support, I'll grease it."
"A genjutsu this wide is a first for me," Sogetsu admitted. "I'll need Inoichi's mind arts to bridge it. There'll be unknowns, so… let's pilot with a handful of jonin, fix the snags, then unleash it on the kids."
"Agreed." Shikaku nodded. "I'll recruit the testers. You and Inoichi set up the shared dreamspace."
"No issue," said Inoichi Yamanaka, trading the briefest look with Shikaku that said a lot. Years of teamwork made words optional.
Sogetsu pretended not to notice, wearing polite curiosity. "How should I sync with you, Inoichi-san?"
"I'll use Mind Transfer to enter your mental space," Inoichi said—then hurried to reassure him. "I'll keep my presence tight. No memory peeking."
"Invasive," Sogetsu frowned, letting just enough worry show. "Any other route?"
The audience Path wore his face like a mask; every twitch, every breath landed perfectly normal. Even a genius like Shikaku saw only reasonable hesitation.
"Vouching personally," Shikaku said. "He won't pry. And this is the only way to broadcast a stable, multi-seat genjutsu."
Sogetsu hesitated—just long enough—then sighed. "All right. I trust you both. What next?"
Inoichi pounced before he could back out. "You craft the Genjutsu: Wish-Fulfillment dream in your mind. I'll relay it to the group with Telepathy—a living repeater."
"Exactly," Shikaku trimmed it down. "It keeps your chakra load low and the session long."
"Ever thorough, heir of Nara." Sogetsu smiled. "I'm set. Bring in the testers."
Half a stick of incense later, Shikaku returned—efficient as ever—with the first batch of jonin:
Minato Namikaze
Shibi Aburame
Nara Suzaku (clan representative)
Choza Akimichi
Hiashi Hyuga
Hizashi Hyuga
and an Inuzuka jonin
Sogetsu scanned the room and hid a small sigh. No Kushina Uzumaki—predictable. You don't put your village's "nuclear option" inside a horror sim and risk a tail-beast tantrum.
"Well then, please prepare." He let a gentle smile touch his eyes. "I declare the Konoha Battle Royale — Pilot… open."
"Genjutsu: Wish-Fulfillment."
"Mind Transfer Technique."
"Telepathy Technique."
Darkness blinked.
No one ever said exactly what they saw in there. The only hint was that when Minato stepped back out, both his legs were trembling, and he croaked the same verdict as everyone else:
"Sogetsu is a devil."
Word spread. Jōnin who "tested" went home and quietly told their teams: Maybe skip the exam this year.
By sunset, Konoha had a new whisper-name for him.
Devil.
And the arena he'd built was hungry.
Next: the rules of the game—then we open the gates.
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