The day Suzuki spent delving into the hospital's medical archives had been highly productive. By the time the next morning arrived, his mental database was already overflowing with advanced anatomical knowledge and biological applications of Yang chakra.
However, one variable slightly disrupted his optimal workflow: Neko, the ANBU operative with the porcelain cat mask, had decided to follow him everywhere.
Suzuki was initially speechless, but he didn't complain. He correctly deduced that Hiruzen had likely assigned her as his personal bodyguard. He genuinely didn't mind her presence. Even if she watched his every move, it was impossible for her to reverse-engineer his progress. She simply didn't possess the foundational physics knowledge required to understand the elemental compositions and theoretical frameworks he was studying.
Furthermore, Suzuki had absolutely nothing to hide.
What left Neko completely baffled, however, was Suzuki's behavior. Instead of boasting about his newfound status as the Third Hokage's personal disciple or flaunting his VIP access around the hospital to intimidate the staff, Suzuki acted like a ghost. He was singularly focused on his work, his training, and his research.
When he wasn't aggressively studying, he was resting, taking a bath, or sleeping. That was it. There was zero arrogance or teenage rebellion.
Naturally, Neko didn't spy on him while he bathed. But if she had, she would have been terrified to see Suzuki actively analyzing the Akimichi clan's signature Multi-Size Jutsu. He was using the Manager's processing power to mathematically calculate the exact caloric intake and chakra density required to forcibly expand specific parts of his own body without suffering the clan's usual stamina drain.
The Manager was truly a god-tier asset. It could rapidly analyze any existing jutsu, optimize its structural flaws, and grant Suzuki a deeper, more perfect mastery over the technique than its original creator.
However, the Manager was strictly an optimizer. It excelled at refining existing data, but it was fundamentally incapable of generating something entirely new from zero. If Suzuki wanted to create a brand-new technique, he still had to run thousands of grueling mental simulations—trial and error—before finding a viable path forward.
Because Neko only informed the highest-ranking hospital administrators of his VIP status, Suzuki's daily life remained blessedly unchanged. The commoners, the lower-tier ninja, and his former academy classmates had absolutely no idea he had become Hiruzen's student.
Suzuki vastly preferred it this way. Complete corporate anonymity was efficient. Before, he had wanted to attract just enough attention to make it politically dangerous for Danzo to kidnap him for Root. But now? With the Hokage's protection, he no longer needed to worry about Danzo's shadowy recruitment tactics.
Right?
Meanwhile, deep within the heavily guarded Hokage's office, Hiruzen Sarutobi was currently dealing with exactly that problem. He sat across from his three oldest friends: Danzo Shimura, Koharu Utatane, and Homura Mitokado.
"You actually took a civilian orphan as your personal disciple, Hiruzen?" Koharu asked, her brow furrowed.
"I did," Hiruzen nodded firmly. "His name is Suzuki Tanaka. He is a brilliant, good-hearted child. So, I am telling you now: do not bother him."
Hiruzen wanted Suzuki to focus entirely on his academic growth—whether that was jutsu theory, medical research, or mastering the elements—without being dragged into the toxic, suffocating politics his three old friends thrived on.
"Understood."
Koharu and Homura nodded in unison. However, behind their neutral expressions, their political gears were rapidly turning. They mentally locked away the name "Suzuki Tanaka." If Hiruzen had personally chosen this boy, it meant Suzuki possessed a terrifying level of talent. At worst, he would become a powerhouse equivalent to the Sannin. At best? He might surpass them.
Both elders silently resolved to have their respective families invest heavily in the boy before he fully matured.
Hiruzen wasn't exactly sure what Koharu and Homura were plotting, but he knew they were ultimately harmless bureaucrats. He didn't need to worry about them. However—
"Hmph!" Danzo snorted, slamming his cane against the floor. "You are wasting his talent, Hiruzen! If you had handed him over to my Root—"
"Danzo."
Hiruzen's voice instantly dropped to a freezing, lethal temperature. "I am absolutely serious. If you do not listen to me regarding this boy, do you want me to formally shut down Root by the end of the day?"
"....." Danzo's visible eye narrowed dangerously, but he clamped his mouth shut.
"Calm down, Hiruzen. Danzo is just being his usual self," Koharu placated quickly.
"Yes, there is no need to escalate things to that extreme," Homura agreed.
For the two civilian elders, maintaining the tense, opposing balance of power between Hiruzen's light and Danzo's darkness was the optimal way to secure their own political relevance.
"Which is exactly why I am telling him to stay hidden in the shadows where he belongs," Hiruzen said, his glare remaining locked on Danzo. "Suzuki is a child who belongs in the light. He is fundamentally different from you, Danzo."
"Whatever," Danzo scoffed, quickly deciding Suzuki wasn't worth the immediate wrath of the Hokage. "Instead of the orphan, you should transfer the Nine-Tails Jinchuriki to my command! Under my direction, he would become the perfect, emotionless weap—"
"Shut up, Danzo!" Hiruzen roared, rubbing his temples in sheer exhaustion. "If you are only here to waste my time, get out! I actually have a job to do!"
"You will regret this softness, Hiruzen!" Danzo warned darkly.
"I am the Hokage! Go home, all of you!" Hiruzen snapped, gesturing wildly to his desk. "Unless you want to sit down and help me process this paperwork?!"
"....."
Danzo, Koharu, and Homura stared at Hiruzen's heavily bloodshot, slightly crazed eyes. They looked past him to the literal mountains of bureaucratic forms threatening to swallow the desk whole.
"Sorry to bother you, Hiruzen."
"Do your best."
"Hmph!"
The three elders immediately turned and practically sprinted out of the office.
Alone again, Hiruzen rubbed his face, stared at a requisition form for kunai sharpening stones, and let out a long, profoundly helpless sigh.
Back at the Ninja Academy, Suzuki was currently dealing with his own unexpected meeting.
He was standing in an empty hallway, looking at Iruka in absolute bewilderment. The Chunin instructor was heavily bandaged, yet he was aggressively thrusting a thick bundle of scrolls into Suzuki's hands.
"Iruka-sensei... what is this?"
"It might not be much," Iruka said softly, offering a bruised, genuine smile, "but these are all the jutsu scrolls I have collected over my entire life, along with a few I confiscated from Mizuki's personal stash before handing it over to the ANBU. I know it probably isn't enough to match your talent, but please think of it as my thanks. If you hadn't shown up, Naruto and I would be dead."
While recovering in the hospital, Iruka had thought long and hard about how to repay Suzuki. As an academy teacher, he had a stable income, but he was far from wealthy. He knew his bank account couldn't hold a candle to Suzuki's lucrative charcoal business. So, he decided to pass down the only true wealth a commoner ninja possessed: his jutsu collection.
It was a brutal reality of Konoha's. Aside from the three basic academy techniques, it was almost impossible for a civilian ninja to acquire new jutsu unless they stole it, inherited it, or purchased it at extortionate black-market prices. Jutsu was currency.
Even though Hiruzen constantly preached that the village was one big family, Iruka knew the truth: every ninja was in ruthless competition with one another. He knew his modest collection might not seem like much, but he believed Suzuki possessed the genius required to utilize them perfectly.
"No, Iruka-sensei," Suzuki quickly pushed the scrolls back. "This is entirely too much. I didn't help you because I wanted a reward."
"Please take them, Suzuki-kun! I insist! Please!" Iruka pushed them back harder.
"No, Sensei, I really can't!"
"Suzuki-kun, take them!"
After a minute of aggressive, polite shoving, Suzuki "reluctantly" allowed himself to be overpowered. He accepted the heavy bundle with a deep bow of gratitude.
Inwardly, however, he was practically cackling. He had just successfully acquired an entirely new database of techniques for free!
Would these low-level jutsu actually be useful to a disciple of the "Professor"? Suzuki believed so. In the corporate world, acquiring vast amounts of raw data—even seemingly useless data—often yielded unexpected competitive advantages. Furthermore, a quick scan revealed Iruka had included a basic sealing technique along with several practical utility skills.
Suzuki didn't unroll them immediately. There was no need. The Manager had already passively scanned and recorded the contents of every scroll the moment his skin touched the parchment.
More importantly, he needed to head to his classroom. Today was official team assignment day.
Unlike the clueless civilian students, the clan heirs—Shikamaru, Ino, Choji, Hinata, Shino, and Kiba—locked their eyes onto Suzuki the moment he walked through the door. Thanks to their parents, they all knew exactly how heavily Suzuki's political status had shifted overnight.
"Suzuki-kun!" Ino practically materialized at his side, her eyes shining with predatory, matchmaking intent.
Suzuki sighed silently as he took his seat.
Today, he realized, is going to be incredibly troublesome.