Chapter 38
Because of the lack of equipment, the running and throwing tests could only be conducted one group at a time.
But the three-body technique test could be done on the spot. So aside from the first and second groups assigned to the track and wooden stakes, the other groups, including Group 10 where Asakawa Naoki was, chose to handle the three-body skills first.
"Alright — we'll begin the three-body technique test now!" The cold-faced teacher announced.
"First up, Namikaze Minato!"
"Here, teacher."
Minato stepped forward and quickly began forming hand seals.
With a puff of smoke, another Namikaze Minato appeared beside him. The two identical figures faced the teacher and spoke in unison.
"Hello, teacher."
Even with his cold expression, a flicker of surprise crossed the teacher's face. He couldn't immediately tell which one was the real Minato and which one was the clone.
"As expected of the genius civilian ninja. His clone technique's already this sharp in his third year."
"Next — Transformation Technique and Substitution Technique," the teacher instructed.
"Yes, teacher."
Minato dispelled his clone and went on to perform the other two techniques. While not as astonishing as his clone technique, they were still clean and flawless, drawing another sigh from the teacher.
"100 points."
He jotted down the score on the form.
"Next — Uzumaki Kushina!"
"Here, teacher!"
Kushina stepped up and followed the same process as Minato. Her performance wasn't bad either, though it clearly lacked the polish of Minato's.
"Solid basics. 95 points."
The teacher wrote down her score.
"Next, Asakawa Naoki."
"I'm here, teacher."
Naoki stepped forward, mimicking Minato's hand seals. A burst of smoke followed — and two perfect copies of Asakawa Naoki stood side by side.
"Another perfect clone technique?"
A hint of surprise passed through the cold-faced teacher's gaze again. Naoki had progressed at a terrifying rate, and his clone technique was practically on par with Minato's.
"Teacher, is my clone technique qualified?"
It wasn't just the two Naokis' appearance — it sounded like both of them spoke at once. The teacher's eyes narrowed.
"Is this some ventriloquism technique? Or…"
He didn't reply immediately, but quietly shifted his gaze.
The flaw in the school's clone technique was simple — it created an intangible illusion with chakra. On a sunny day like this, the clone would cast no shadow.
But when the teacher looked behind the two Naokis — there were two distinct shadows.
"Wait… Physical clone technique? A student at this level?"
Most chunin didn't know how to perform a physical clone technique, let alone an academy student. The cold-faced teacher's expression twitched slightly. It felt like he'd wasted the past ten years of his life.
Even he — a chunin promoted just over a year ago — couldn't perform a physical clone technique. But here was a kid, not even out of school yet, casually doing it like it was nothing.
"Your clone technique is qualified," the teacher muttered with a complicated expression. "Now — Transformation Technique and Substitution Technique."
"Understood."
Naoki responded and directed the clone to perform the transformation technique.
With a puff of smoke, both Naokis vanished — leaving two versions of the cold-faced teacher standing side by side. The real teacher's eyes twitched as he found himself staring at his own face.
"Teacher, is my transformation technique qualified?"
Hearing his own likeness address him in a slightly different voice, the teacher inwardly sighed in relief.
'At least the voice is different.'
If Naoki had perfectly mimicked his voice as well, his confidence would've taken a serious hit.
In truth, Naoki could've done it by adjusting the immortal soldier's vocal cords. But he figured the poor teacher might have a heart attack, so he held back.
"Qualified," the teacher grumbled. "Substitution Technique."
"Yes, teacher."
Naoki's clone smoothly executed a textbook substitution.
On a nearby rooftop overlooking the training grounds, a group of chunin and jonin quietly watched the students' performances.
"The kids this year aren't too impressive," one ninja in a green vest commented.
"Well, there hasn't been a war for a while. If your life isn't on the line, you won't train like it is," a ninja in a white uniform replied.
"When we were in school, it was the First Shinobi World War. You slack off, you die on the battlefield. Simple as that."
"These brats only know how to play around now. No hunger, no pressure."
"Honestly, if war wasn't about to break out again, the graduation standards would've stayed soft. Half of them wouldn't make the cut."
"That said… I've noticed a few decent ones." A ninja in sunglasses spoke up.
"You? You barely scrape by as a chunin. Leave the talent-spotting to those of us who aren't at the bottom of the ladder," the white-clothed ninja snorted.
"Man, just leave me a few decent ones, okay?" The green-vested ninja sighed. "I don't wanna get stuck teaching a bunch of weaklings who won't listen."
Their conversation drifted off as their gazes turned toward the three figures standing ahead of them on the rooftop.
Unlike future generations, the ninja system of this era wasn't as merciful. Students weren't placed into balanced squads of a genius, an average student, and a struggling one.
Instead, ninja instructors selected their students themselves.
The strongest instructors picked first, claiming the most promising students. The weakest ones got stuck with whatever leftovers remained.
And this year, the three most formidable instructors by far were standing right there.
The three legendary disciples of the Second Hokage — Sarutobi Hiruzen's students.
Tsunade. Orochimaru. Jiraiya.
Though still in their twenties, they were already well-known across the shinobi world, their names carrying weight far beyond Konoha's borders.
Tsunade, clad in a black combat uniform with long, golden hair falling down her back, looked every bit the warrior she was reputed to be. Her sharp eyes swept over the training grounds.
"Oi, Orochimaru, Jiraiya — you picked your students yet?" she asked casually.
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