The Forest of Death— an important resource depot of the Hidden Konohagakure.
It was a place teeming with ninja beasts, rare herbs, and countless valuable materials. The natural energy there was richer than anywhere else, making it a true spiritual haven. Because of that, ordinary entry was strictly forbidden.
Except during the Joint Chunin Exams. Then—and only then—was the forest opened, serving as the perfect testing ground.
A benefit in disguise.
Battles strained both mind and body to the extreme, and when fought in such a place steeped in natural energy, it often led to a surge in one's growth afterward.
Meanwhile, the corpses and blood of the fallen ninja— became the Forest of Death's finest "nutrients."
A perfect win-win. Utterly profitable.
The Chunin Exams were practically a ritual sacrifice, and every time, the forest would grow stronger for it. No wonder the Leaf had no qualms using it as a testing ground.
Ninja teams were already gathering outside the iron fences at the forest's edge. A crowd of proctors stood by the entrance.
But don't be fooled—those metal fences weren't the real security measure. They were just for keeping ordinary civilians out. The true defenses were barrier seals and traps.
Without proper knowledge of them, even a jonin would find it difficult to sneak inside.
On a raised platform near the main entrance, a row of examiners overlooked the masses of genin below.
"Welcome, everyone—to Hell!"
"The next test will be one you'll never forget!"
"The rules are simple: scattered throughout the Forest of Death are various tokens. Retrieve any one of them and reach the central tower, and you pass!"
"Now—take your signal flares, and begin!"
Mitarashi Jishō gestured for the aides to distribute the flares.
Signal flares! Once activated, a proctor would rush to the user's aid… but that also meant immediate disqualification.
Of course—that's if you could survive long enough to use it.
This version of the exam was far more brutal than the future peacetime one. Among the candidates lurked true hunters—those who killed for sport or mission. And even knowing this, there were no additional protections for the examinees.
That was just how cruel the ninja world was. Only those who could survive such conditions were worthy of being called geniuses. The rest simply didn't matter.
This was the ninja-world version of a battle royale— a "game," but with lives as the wager.
"What's over there?" Yamanaka Koji noticed Shien scanning the crowd of candidates and examiners, his expression oddly focused.
"Nothing," Shien replied, shaking his head. He was just curious to see if there were any… familiar faces.
And , he found one.
Pakura!
That beautiful woman who once contended with Rasa for the title of Fourth Kazekage, only to be betrayed and killed in the end.
In reality, her appearance far surpassed the anime's portrayal. If not for her distinctive outfit, he might not have recognized her at all.
The real ninja world looked very different from the stylized version in his memories— similar in essence, but full of subtle differences.
'How interesting,' he thought, because lying low was still the plan, reminding himself that survival came first.
With a faint smile of a man watching history unfold before his eyes— and perhaps a trace of disbelief at seeing a "2D beauty" in flesh and blood— Shien pocketed his signal flare and strode toward the forest entrance.
There were multiple entry points; contestants could choose their own. He picked one that seemed deserted.
But to his annoyance, several figures began tailing them as they entered. They were clearly targeting his team.
"Plan A." Shien's voice was low but firm.
They'd already prepared for this. Though the exact exam details were secret, every major village's genin knew the general pattern, and they'd strategized the night before.
Kakashi and Yamanaka Koji both nodded in understanding.
The moment the three crossed the threshold, they suddenly accelerated—vanishing into the trees.
"After them!" The pursuing candidates shouted, giving chase.
"Check their exam credentials," one of the Konoha proctors said coldly, stepping in front of the pursuers.
As if they'd let outsiders just hunt their own genin unchecked.
This was Konoha's territory. Even the most generous host wouldn't sit idly by while guests preyed on their youth.
And a credential check was the perfect excuse— completely reasonable.
None of the Suna or Iwa examiners nearby objected either; it was an unspoken rule. If the situation were reversed, they'd do the same.
Fairness? Sure—relative fairness.
Absolute fairness only existed in children's stories. Just like on Blue Star— did the Five Great Powers ever truly treat others "fairly"?
Giving you a "relatively fair" environment was already a blessing. What more could you want?
The real shinobi world wasn't built on hot-blooded ideals or bonds of friendship. It was a grim, pragmatic place of power and politics— the dark, bloody version hidden behind the myths.
Just like that old saying went: "All fairy tales are lies."
Meanwhile— inside the central tower of the Forest of Death,
a massive chamber, larger than a basketball arena, was filled with nobles, wealthy merchants, and high-ranking ninja from various villages.
Multiple screens projected surveillance feeds from across the forest, displaying every movement, every ambush, every death.
(The ninja world's technology was bizarrely inconsistent— they had monitors and computers, yet parts of the world still lived at feudal-war levels.)
At the center sat three figures, each wearing a wide-brimmed hat marked with their village's kanji: "Wind," "Rock," and "Fire."
The shortest of them, a man with a bulbous red nose— Ōnoki, the Third Tsuchikage— was the first to speak.
"Konoha truly is blessed by the heavens. You just keep producing genius after genius… unlike us in Iwagakure. We can't seem to raise even one worth mentioning. How enviable."
He was already stirring the pot, implying that Konoha's success came only from its environment, and hinting at Iwagakure's supposed weakness.
If it were just him and Sarutobi Hiruzen talking, it might have passed as small talk. But with so many important witnesses present— and the Kazekage sitting nearby— those words could easily plant seeds of envy and suspicion.
"Indeed," Hiruzen replied smoothly.
"It is because of these talented young ones that Konoha remains unharmed, despite the covetous eyes of others."
His tone was calm, but his meaning was clear— Konoha was not afraid of anyone's ambitions.
The exchange might not involve jutsu, but the tension between the three Kage was just as dangerous.
"How wonderful," said the Third Kazekage, smiling faintly.
"I do hope these geniuses will continue to… protect Konoha well."
The words sounded polite— but the malice beneath them was unmistakable. The Land of Wind was poor, and its rich neighbor, the Land of Fire, was a tempting target. Whether they succeeded or not, a war would profit them either way— winning brought spoils, losing reduced their village's burdens.
"Under the light of the Will of Fire, Konoha's ninja never disappoint," Hiruzen said evenly, noticing the subtle coordination between the other two Kage.
"Let's enjoy the matches, shall we?"
"Yes… let's watch."
"Hopefully, nothing 'unexpected' happens."
"Or perhaps… we'll be pleasantly surprised."
Ōnoki and the Kazekage exchanged knowing glances and fell silent.
Hiruzen maintained his calm facade— but beneath the surface, he'd already sent a coded signal to the ANBU. The message was clear: something was about to happen.
And so— while the crowds cheered and the screens showed battle after battle,
beneath the festive surface of Konoha, dark currents began to stir.
Yet no one noticed. All eyes were fixed on the second stage of the Chunin Exams— unaware that the real test for the village had only just begun.
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