The matter of Reiji leaving a massive crater in the playground was ultimately brushed aside.
Ryōta Uchiha, frightened out of his wits, was taken home by his parents.
After getting the full story from Nakaryū Ōzora, they decided not to apologize to Reiji.
But Reiji didn't care. The Uchiha Clan had a few with astonishing generosity, but most were just petty and unimpressive.
What made Reiji happy was that Nakaryū Ōzora agreed to exempt him from combat class, replacing it with tutoring sessions instead.
Reiji was very pleased with this arrangement.
As long as he could get back to the shop on time to forge, nothing else mattered.
In the only class that afternoon, Reiji sat at the back of the classroom. His desk mate was the white-haired kid from that morning—Jiraiya.
At this moment, Jiraiya sported a loud, explosive hairstyle, downward-slanting eyes lined with two red streaks of face paint, and wore a gray-green robe with flame patterns cinched at the waist.
"Reiji, you're super strong! How did you train?"
Jiraiya leaned over his desk, using the back of the student in front of him to block the teacher's view, and whispered.
Seeing this, Reiji followed suit, leaning down and replying quietly,
"Blacksmithing. After swinging a hammer enough times, your strength builds up naturally."
"Can you teach me?" Jiraiya asked eagerly.
Reiji nodded right away. "Next time I'll bring you a blacksmith's hammer. Find something solid and just start hammering. Do it every day, and your strength will come."
Jiraiya was instantly overjoyed.
He'd felt that kind of power up close. Even without the destructive force, just the aura alone was chilling.
Thinking about having that strength himself—and finally confessing to Tsunade—made him grin from ear to ear.
Reiji chuckled too.
There was no denying it—Jiraiya truly was a cheerful guy.
As he laughed, Jiraiya pointed to the empty seat in front of Reiji and asked curiously,
"Hey, do you know where that Ryōta Uchiha kid went?"
Reiji blinked in surprise. So that brat from the Uchiha Clan had been sitting right in front of him!
"No idea. Maybe his parents took him home to change his pants or something," Reiji said, scratching his head.
Jiraiya didn't laugh. Instead, he scooted closer with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Reiji, you'd better watch your back. Ryōta Uchiha holds a grudge. And his clan…"
He didn't finish, but Reiji got the message loud and clear.
The Uchiha were notorious for their pettiness—but Reiji was even pettier.
That's when he suddenly realized a flaw in his own plan.
If I had an enemy in Konoha… would Second Hokage Tobirama Senju be more at ease with me?
The answer was obvious. And Uchiha made for the perfect enemy.
For starters, the Uchiha weren't as integrated into the village as he'd expected.
Their exclusiveness was ingrained in the clan's culture. As long as any of the old relics from the Warring States period were still alive, that deep-rooted pride would be passed down endlessly.
It completely contradicted the Will of Fire proposed by the First Hokage.
Even so, the Uchiha Clan's combat strength remained an essential part of Konoha's power. They were still a crucial military force.
If Reiji clashed with the Uchiha, he'd be left isolated—and would have to align with the Hokage faction for protection.
That way, his credibility would naturally grow.
From the moment he entered Konoha and his plan was exposed, he'd been caught in this political vortex.
And in politics, there's no such thing as staying neutral.
With that thought, Reiji's eyes flickered. He quietly made up his mind.
Time passed quickly, and class ended before he knew it. Reiji left the Ninja Academy with the crowd.
As planned, he headed off to work at Katō's ninja tool shop.
Thanks to the advantage of Magnet Release, Reiji's forging skills grew sharper and more refined. The tools he crafted kept improving, and Katō's shop gradually gained a solid reputation.
Soon, demand far outpaced supply at Katō's ninja tool store.
Reports from the front lines mentioned that the senbon produced there were particularly sharp.
For a ninja, tools were a second life. Faulty equipment was a nightmare.
Reiji's senbon were not only razor-sharp but also highly durable, leading to a very high recovery rate after battles.
While that trait wasn't great for business, on the battlefield—when supplies were tight—recovered senbon could be lifesavers.
He lifted the curtain and stepped into Katō's shop.
Unlike the quiet place he first visited, it was now bustling. Ninjas in green flak jackets moved about, examining and comparing tools from the display racks.
Old man Ippongi rubbed his pudgy hands together, wearing a crafty grin as he weaved through the crowd with practiced charm.
Spotting Reiji, Ippongi immediately hustled over to his side.
"Hey, little brother! Took you long enough! Come on, we've got a few special custom orders here—check them out and see if we can take them."
"How big are they?" Reiji asked instinctively.
Hearing that, Ippongi threw an arm around Reiji's shoulder and, with his free hand, discreetly signaled an "eight" between them.
"For me?"
"For you!"
Reiji grinned from ear to ear, clearly sensing that his lucky streak had begun.
This wasn't just a big order—it was a sign that their reputation was starting to spread.
In blacksmithing, especially when it came to forging weapons, quality was everything.
With quality, everything else followed.
Ninjas who survived the battlefield were walking advertisements. The tools they used naturally became seen as top-tier.
With that, Reiji followed Ippongi to the counter.
"Here are the orders: ninja blades custom-made for the Gekkō family, armor plates for the Akimichi clan, and a shipment for my old man's trade run. The stuff he ordered isn't urgent—let him wait.
What really matters is the Gekkō family's order for ninja blades. They're a big client, so make sure to give it your full attention."
Reiji nodded, took the order from the man still in mourning garb, and headed into the forge.
It was almost absurd how Magnet Release gave him such an overwhelming advantage in smithing, yet even now, Reiji still wasn't sure if Magnet Release was a Kekkei Genkai or not.
The rhythmic clanging of hammer on metal filled the air, accompanied by the whoosh of bellows. Time passed steadily.
At six o'clock, Katō's ninja tool shop closed.
Reiji wiped the sweat from his brow and walked out of the forge, putting on an exaggerated air of exhaustion.
Up front, Old man Ippongi was leaning over the counter, beaming as he worked the abacus, its beads clicking rapidly.
"Yo, Reiji, good work today."
"Hey, I worked my butt off—don't I get a bonus or something?" Reiji grinned.
"Bonus?" Ippongi's smile froze. He immediately wrapped his arms protectively around the stacks of bills in front of him.
"You're joking again. We split everything evenly, remember? I'm your partner, not your boss—how could I give you a raise?"
Seeing Ippongi's defensive posture, Reiji curled his lip.
"Changing the profit split isn't out of the question, you know."
At that, Ippongi's chubby head shook like a rattle drum.
"No no no, Reiji—I'm a man of integrity. I never go back on my word."
Reiji sighed in defeat.
"Fine, you're honest. But we've only got enough iron ore and charcoal for one more day. Make sure to restock. I'm heading home for dinner."
Without another word, Reiji slipped out of Katō's shop, leaving Ippongi behind to wail in despair.
"Out already? I just restocked last week! That was two whole weeks' worth of charcoal and ore! Damn it, Reiji, don't run! Get back here!"
Reiji ducked his head and vanished without a trace.
...
In a dense forest outside Konoha, Reiji excitedly pulled a bundle of weights from his cloak.
They were forged from leftover materials. Thanks to his immense strength and Magnet Release, these weights were compact but unbelievably heavy.
There were four of them, each wrapped in sturdy burlap.
Altogether, they weighed nearly 400 kilograms.
Reiji strapped them to his arms and legs, and with the iron powder stored in his body, his total load was close to 500 kilograms.
Just wearing them made him feel like a human anchor—he'd sink the moment he hit water.
He stood up and forced himself to take a few steps. Immediately, his muscles and bones groaned in protest. Reiji recognized the sound: his body crying out under the crushing weight.
But this was exactly what he wanted.
He believed that once he adapted to the load, he'd be able to take down a group of Chūnin with sheer physical strength alone.
As for Jōnin? Well, those guys usually had something that set them far apart from ordinary people.