The room didn't erupt the way Aren expected it to.
There were smiles, yes. Quiet exhalations. A few shaky laughs that came out too loud and were quickly swallowed by embarrassment. But beneath it all was something heavier—an awareness settling into everyone's bones.
They had passed.
Which meant they were allowed to continue.
Ibiki Morino stood at the front, arms crossed, scarred face unreadable. "Those who remain," he said, "have demonstrated the minimum qualifications to attempt promotion."
Minimum.
Aren noted the word immediately.
Around him, chakra signatures fluctuated wildly. Relief spiked and dipped. Some genin sagged in their seats as if their bodies were only now realizing how tense they'd been. Others sat straighter, pride leaking through discipline.
The system flickered to life.
[Post-Stress Assessment]
Mental Fatigue: Moderate
Chakra Instability: Elevated in 63% of Remaining Examinees
Recommendation: Recovery Window Required
Aren didn't relax.
Not yet.
He glanced sideways. Lee was vibrating with contained energy, fists clenched in triumph. Tenten looked calm, but her breathing was just slightly off—controlled, not natural.
Across the room, Shikamaru leaned back with a groan. "Man… I almost quit."
Choji nodded beside him, crumbs already dotting his vest. Ino stood with her arms crossed, gaze scanning the room rather than celebrating. When her eyes found Aren, she didn't smile.
She just nodded once.
Grounded. Present.
The proctors began moving, herding the successful teams out of the room. As Aren stepped into the hallway, the air felt different—less oppressive, but sharper somehow. Like the pressure before a storm.
That's when he noticed them.
Not Konoha.
A team from Sunagakure leaned against the far wall. Three figures. Calm. Still. The red-haired boy at their center didn't look at anyone directly, but his chakra sat wrong—dense, compressed, like a coiled mass with no intention of dispersing.
[Chakra Density Anomaly Detected]
Risk Level: Unknown
Recommendation: Avoid Provocation
Nearby, a Sound team whispered among themselves. Their chakra signatures pulsed irregularly, overlapping in ways that made Aren's jaw tighten. They didn't move like genin.
They moved like something pretending to be.
The most dangerous teams weren't loud.
They didn't need to be.
"Incredible, right?"
Aren turned. Ino had fallen into step beside him, her voice low enough not to carry.
"That many people filtered out by questions alone," she continued. "It's unsettling."
"It was never about knowledge," Aren replied. "It was about pressure tolerance."
She glanced at him. "You didn't even hesitate."
"I did," he said honestly. "Internally."
Her lips curved faintly. "That explains it."
Before he could ask what she meant, the hallway doors at the far end slammed open.
A woman strode in like she owned the building.
Purple hair tied back. A trench coat thrown over her shoulders. A grin that was all teeth and zero reassurance.
"Alright, you miserable brats!" she shouted. "If you're done sweating over papers, it's time for the fun part!"
Anko Mitarashi.
The temperature in the hallway dropped—not physically, but perceptually. Conversations died. Even some of the jonin straightened.
Aren's system reacted instantly.
[Threat Profile Initiated]
Subject: Mitarashi, Anko
Rank: Tokubetsu Jonin
Behavior Pattern: Unpredictable
Engagement Advisory: Observe Only
Anko bounced on the balls of her feet, eyes gleaming as she took them all in. "You passed Ibiki's little mind game. Congratulations! That just means you're qualified to be hurt next."
She gestured grandly. "Phase Two is survival."
Groans rippled through the crowd. Anko ignored them.
"Welcome," she said brightly, "to the Forest of Death."
The name alone shifted something in Aren's chest.
They followed her outside.
The forest loomed beyond the gates—massive, ancient, thick with chakra so dense it made Aren's skin prickle. The trees were enormous, their canopies blotting out sunlight. Somewhere deep inside, something moved.
Not animals.
Not entirely.
[Environment Shift Detected]
Ambient Chakra: High
Visibility: Severely Limited
Combat Probability: Extreme
Resource Attrition: Inevitable
Anko turned, holding up two scrolls. "Heaven and Earth. You get one. Your job is to take the other."
Her grin sharpened. "How you do that? I don't care."
Aren accepted Team Eleven's scroll, fingers tightening briefly around the casing.
Ten days.
Hostile teams.
No rules that mattered.
This environment favored control. Awareness. Terrain use.
But it also punished hesitation.
Ino stood a few meters away with her team. For a moment, the noise faded, and it was just the two of them amid the chaos.
"Don't overthink it," she said quietly.
"I won't," Aren replied.
She studied him. "You always say that."
"And you always notice when I'm lying."
That earned him a real smile.
The gates began to open.
A deep, grinding sound echoed as iron slid against iron. Wind rushed out of the forest, carrying the scent of damp earth and something metallic.
Blood, the system supplied clinically.
Aren faced forward.
The exam had stopped pretending to be fair.
And the forest didn't care who passed Phase One.
End of Chapter 21