Chapter 462: Asuma's Choice
"Sarada, we don't have a choice. Rules are rules. This is the consequence of our own decision not to quit midway.
Though, yeah, it really is a bit disgusting."
Hearing the situation, Boruto's expression turned somewhat grim as well.
Not being able to eat his favorite burgers was bad enough, but now he had to stuff his stomach with repulsive things just to get by—what a pain.
According to Konoha's guidelines, once a student enters the second level of the Taijutsu Training System, they must take full responsibility for the choices they make.
Only through this strict trial could optimal training results be achieved.
They just hadn't anticipated the environment would be quite this brutal.
"Don't worry! I spotted a few small animals—they should taste pretty good once I pull them out!"
Just then, Tonbo Hyuga, standing across from them, smiled reassuringly.
With his Byakugan wide open and chakra surging in both hands, he slammed his palms down onto the surface of the marsh.
Streams of chakra drilled deep into the mire.
The mud churned violently as chakra waves crashed beneath the surface.
"Hey, Tonbo, don't force it. In a space like this, how could anyone successfully cast a jutsu? It's impossible, isn't it?"
Boruto called out as he watched.
Even for him, controlling chakra in an environment like this was exceptionally difficult. Even if the Byakugan could pinpoint something beneath the surface, executing a technique was another story entirely.
And he was supposed to be Konoha's local prodigy.
Tonbo Hyuga let out a bright laugh. "Heh! Don't forget—you might be a prodigy, but I'm no slacker either. I am a man of the Hyuga Clan, heir to the Gentle Fist and the Byakugan Kekkei Genkai!"
SPLASH!
SWISH!
A toad and a centipede were yanked straight out from deep within the mud.
These were no ordinary toads or centipedes.
They were hideous—far uglier than any creatures inhabiting the Shinobi World.
Their forms looked strangely warped, their skin covered in grotesque lumps and deformed tissues.
Just looking at them was enough to turn one's stomach.
Sarada had felt a momentary wave of relief, but upon catching sight of the two creatures, she took a sharp breath. "That... I am definitely not eating that."
They were simply too revolting.
Tonbo Hyuga replied, "Don't worry, they aren't poisonous. My Byakugan can see right through their internal structures."
His eyes possessed greater depth of perception than typical members of the Hyuga Clan, enabling him to inspect cellular compositions and toxins clearly.
His visual prowess was significantly higher than average.
"Even if they aren't poisonous, there's no way we can swallow that! They look way too ugly!" Sarada protested.
Mitsuki added calmly, "It doesn't matter. Toads and centipedes taste quite good once you roast them."
"Except we don't have fire!" Sarada pointed out.
Mitsuki smiled lightly. "Then that depends on you and Boruto. You two are the only ones here who possess Fire Affinity chakra. It all comes down to whether you can cast a jutsu here. Good luck!
Otherwise, we'll have to eat them raw. Tonbo and I don't really mind, but it might be tough for you two."
His tone carried a hint of subtle playfulness.
He wasn't lying.
Mitsuki was long accustomed to harsh conditions, while Tonbo Hyuga, despite being raised in a prestigious clan, held no particular aversion to such things. His Byakugan had exposed him to far worse, so he barely batted an eye.
"Aah! But right now, we're barely holding our Water Walking technique together! How are we supposed to weave Fire Style?!"
Sarada glanced around, searching for anything that could serve as tinder.
However, the barren landscape offered zero flammable material.
They were completely stuck.
She turned her gaze toward Boruto.
Feeling her expectant look, Boruto felt a surge of pressure.
He was a guy—and his mom had always taught him that a man needs to step up when it counts.
"Alright! I'll give it my all! There's still a bit of time, so I'm going all out. I don't want to eat those ugly things raw either. Roasting them over a fire should make them look a little better!"
Boruto gritted his teeth as he stared at the creatures in Tonbo's hand.
Eating that raw would definitely make him throw up—just thinking about it was unbearable.
"Fire Style!"
Weaving hand seals, Boruto gathered his chakra to release a flame.
POOF!
The small flame had barely flickered to life before the environment's suction force dispersed it into nothingness.
"Curse it!"
"Haha, keep at it! Let's get back to training too—we need to adapt quickly over these seven days," Mitsuki said to the others, watching Boruto's persistence.
"Right, let's do this!"
Sarada pushed herself to the limit as well, working to maintain her Water Walking while attempting to weave Fire Style.
Fire Style was the Uchiha Clan's specialty; she couldn't afford to lose to Boruto here.
A short distance away, a shinobi watched their efforts with a smile.
"The younger generation... They really are something else."
Kotaro Fuma sighed with emotion as he observed their training.
As a shinobi of the same generation as Konohamaru, he had never imagined he would end up working in a place like this.
He had originally assumed he would remain with the Konoha Police Force and advance his career there.
However, after rising to a high-ranking position in the Police Force, he found the workload unexpectedly light.
With time to spare, he came here to train and oversee the juniors' progress.
He was one of many shinobi who had benefitted from the opportunities of this new era.
Combined with his natural talent, he had grown into a core strength of Konoha.
When this training space was first established, he had trained step-by-step just like Boruto and the others.
He too had consumed nutrient-dense marsh soil just to sustain his body.
To be honest, it tasted awful.
The survival jutsu Senior Tonbo Tobitake developed was truly absurd—allowing one to extract vital nutrients directly from swamp mud.
It was a ridiculously convenient capability.
In fact, the volcanic training space featured similar survival jutsu.
In other words, any shinobi who conquered all eight trial spaces would emerge completely free of weaknesses, capable of adapting to any environment—even the brutal soil-less void space.
...
While the younger generation was growing, the older generation was hardly standing still.
Spurred by the prophecy from the Priestess of the Land of Demons, many retired veterans had resumed intensive training, rekindling the passion of their youth.
Among them were Kakashi, Might Guy, and other seasoned veterans.
Asuma, in particular, was training harder than anyone else.
Every year during the entrance ceremonies, he felt like the least prominent figure present.
To make matters worse, Tonbo Tobitake's youngest son had actually managed to hit it off with his daughter—it was almost unbelievable.
Driven by a determination to be able to beat Tonbo Tobitake up at a moment's notice, he threw himself into his training with ferocious intensity.
However...
He shifted his gaze toward a distant corner of the space. A yellow figure was moving at incredible speeds, hurling non-stop strikes into empty air and generating violent shockwaves.
"Curse it... That kid from Tonbo's family has terrifying taijutsu talent. If we went purely by taijutsu, in another two years, even I won't be able to match him."
That figure was none other than Saitama.
This area was a deeper zone within the Taijutsu Training System, populated mostly by veteran shinobi.
A rare exception was a talented youth like Saitama.
Saitama was twelve now. As he grew older, his sheer physical vitality was gradually pushing out the seal Tonbo Tobitake had placed inside him.
His latent talent was blossoming, and his rate of improvement was accelerating by the day.
This brought the earlier scene back to Asuma's mind.
"Actually... him becoming my son-in-law might not be such a bad thing after all."
Although Mirai was still young, an early engagement wasn't entirely out of the question.
Asuma no longer viewed Saitama as just a dense kid.
Being simple-minded had its perks—at least Mirai wouldn't be bullied by him in the future.
The more he thought about it, the less resistance Asuma felt.
Still, he had no intention of slackening his own training.
What if Saitama ever mistreated his daughter down the road?
He needed to be fully prepared just in case.
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