Chapitre 126: 126
Having parted ways with his team after eating BBQ, Haruto Takeda headed towards the woods, his mind already focused on the next task. Before setting off, he quickly retrieved his weighted seal from his apartment and fastened it back in place. It had become a part of his routine—pushing his body beyond its limits, always training, always improving.
The dinner with Shisui and his family would be tomorrow night since sensi had treated them to BBQ which was fine by Haruto.
Before stepping into the woods, he created a shadow clone, sending it off to continue working on the Thunder Scalpel. The progress had been slow, but steady. The blend of the Chakra Scalpel with Lightning Release was tricky, requiring immense focus and control. But with his two minds and relentless determination, he was sure he'd crack the jutsu soon enough.
The real Haruto moved through the trees with quiet purpose. He had other training to complete today—something more primal. For the next few hours, he worked on his stalker training, blending into the shadows of the forest, moving silently, his eyes constantly scanning for prey. It wasn't just about stealth. It was about control. Each step was deliberate, each breath measured. This kind of training was vital for missions that required tracking or assassination, and Haruto had no intention of being anything less than perfect.
After a while, he paused, leaning against a tree and drawing a few shuriken from his pouch. Haruto spent the next hour working on his shuriken throwing, his arm moving fluidly as he hit his mark with precision, adjusting his aim and strength with every throw. It was muscle memory at this point, but even so, Haruto believed in keeping his skills sharp. The life of a shinobi demanded perfection, and he knew better than most that a single mistake could cost someone their life.
As the sun began to sink lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue across the trees, Haruto paused. He glanced up at the tallest tree in the vicinity, its branches stretching high above the canopy, and felt an urge to climb. Without hesitation, he pushed off the ground, his hands and feet finding purchase as he scaled the trunk effortlessly. The climb was swift, his enhanced physical control making it seem almost effortless.
Reaching the top, Haruto perched on a sturdy branch, his eyes sweeping over the village below. Konoha lay stretched out before him, bathed in the amber glow of the setting sun. The sight was peaceful, serene even, and for a moment, he simply sat there, breathing in the quiet.
Haruto had been born into this world as someone else—a martial artist from another life, a coach, a man driven by discipline and training. But now… now he was Haruto Takeda, a shinobi of Konoha. This life had become his reality, and somewhere along the way, the lines between who he was and who he had been had blurred.
I'm not who I once was.
It wasn't a lament, just a fact. He wasn't just the man who had been into martial arts, nor was he solely the disabled coach who had rebuilt his life after injury. That life was behind him, but its lessons had shaped who he was now. This world demanded more—more strength, more cunning, more determination—and he was ready to meet that demand.
As he watched the last rays of sunlight disappear behind the Hokage Monument, Haruto felt a sense of clarity. He wasn't just Haruto the reincarnated man, clutching at memories of the past. He was Haruto the shinobi, a part of this village, this world, with new goals and responsibilities.
This is my path now.
He had accepted that reality. Whatever ripples his existence caused in this world, whether it meant preventing deaths or changing the course of events, he was prepared to face it head-on. His past was a guide, but not a chain. He wouldn't let it hold him back from the future he was carving for himself as a shinobi of Konoha.
The wind stirred the leaves around him, and Haruto felt a sense of resolve settle in his chest. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he would face them as Haruto the shinobi—not the man he used to be.
With a final glance over the village, Haruto stood, his silhouette framed by the fading light. The training never stopped. He would continue to push himself, to grow stronger, to prepare for whatever lay ahead.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Haruto descended the tree and disappeared into the forest, ready to continue his journey forward—one step at a time.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone