Konoha, Training Ground Four.
What had originally been the relatively open edge of a woodland was now a complete mess.
Trees as thick as a bowl's rim lay scattered in all directions, their broken trunks exposing fresh, splintered wood; the solid ground was riddled with pits and crisscrossing trenches, as though it had been repeatedly trampled and ravaged by some colossal beast.
Boom! Bang! Thud!
Dull, drumlike roars—like rocks shattering—rang out without pause. Each blast was accompanied by a faint tremor of the earth and the spray of dirt and stone.
Two figures, moving at speeds the naked eye could scarcely track, crossed paths, collided, separated, and then charged into one another again with even greater ferocity within the confined field.
One of the figures was agile and swift, yet after every head-on clash was forced back by greater strength; the other was as imposing as a mountain. Each movement carried a crushing heaviness, as if it were not flesh and blood, but cast from solid steel.
Another punch, without the slightest flourish, met head-on!
Bang!
A shockwave exploded outward. The smaller figure—Higashino Shinichi—shot back like a projectile, hurtling through the air at astonishing speed before slamming violently into a massive tree that would take two people to encircle. The trunk let out a groan under the strain and snapped in response!
Amid the flying wood chips, Shinichi let out a muffled grunt. Using the collapsing tree as a buffer, he stumbled to the ground, his feet carving two furrows several meters long before he barely managed to steady himself. Blood churned in his chest, and waves of numbness spread through both arms.
His training clothes were long since soaked through with sweat and dust, clinging tightly to his bulging muscles. Torn in many places, they exposed skin flushed red and mottled with bruises.
Yet his eyes shone with astonishing brightness, locked tightly onto the massive outline gradually emerging from the dust ahead. Though his breathing was heavy, it carried an almost feverish focus.
As the dust thinned, an abnormally tall figure came clearly into view.
It stood roughly two and a half meters tall. A Konoha forehead protector was properly worn upon its brow—but it was not human.
Its entire body was covered in dense, coarse silver-white fur that gleamed with a cold, metallic sheen under the sunlight filtering through the trees.
Muscles bulged in thick masses, their rugged lines brimming with explosive power, as though carved from the hardest granite, containing a heart-pounding primal strength.
Its wide-open eyes were a pure gold—wild and sharp. Between its slightly parted jaws, faintly visible fangs glinted with a cold light.
It merely stood there, yet exuded a pressure like that of an ancient ferocious beast.
It was precisely the summoning beast of the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen—the Monkey King Enma, whose name had shaken the shinobi world as one "of boundless strength and adamantine durability."
When Shinichi expressed to the Third Hokage that he hoped to seek guidance from a senior with an abnormally powerful physique and unmatched bodily toughness, the one who came to the Third's mind was this old companion.
The Monkey clan was born with tyrannical physical strength, with tendons and bones so robust they far exceeded human imagination. Without any deliberate chakra reinforcement, even the casual lift of a hand or step of a foot could split stone steles and shatter boulders.
Its muscle density and bone strength had reached an utterly inconceivable degree. It possessed extremely high natural force-unloading and resistance against blunt impacts; ordinary blades and swords could scarcely injure it in the slightest, making it a walking steel fortress.
Thus, the Monkey King Enma became Shinichi's instructor for this period of special training.
When they met for the first time, Enma spoke bluntly: it had no complicated, profound training methods to pass on. The way the Monkey clan tempered the body was simple and brutal.
That was to, in ceaseless battle, use the body to feel the shock, to endure damage, to adapt to pain; to force out potential in limit-level clashes, so that every inch of muscle and every bone would be refined.
And after battle, it would be supplemented with their clan's secret special medicinal baths and ointment formulas for conditioning and recovery—repairing hidden injuries, consolidating what had been gained, and letting the body grow stronger without end within the cycle of destruction and rebuilding.
Simply put: take a beating—then take medicine.
At this moment, a brief silence fell over the center of the field. Shinichi worked to steady his breathing, feeling the soreness and numbness in his arm muscles, and that searing heat like a branding iron.
Enma held to the most plainspoken creed of its clan: only under pressure that neared the limit—or even surpassed the limit—could flesh and blood burst forth with the possibility of transformation.
Therefore, its guidance was nearly ruthless—so long as the trainee did not die, train him to the brink of death.
This kind of sparring had already continued for quite some time. At the end of every day's training, Shinichi's body was covered in bruises large and small; there was scarcely an inch of intact skin left, and his bones felt as though they were about to fall apart.
Fortunately, the secret medicine Enma provided afterward truly was miraculous. In addition, Shinichi's own constitution was far beyond that of ordinary people. The Big Eater Entry granted him a special ability to efficiently absorb nutrients and convert them into energy, which was why he could keep enduring this kind of high-intensity training.
"Kid! Pay attention!"
Enma's voice rang out like a great bell, carrying a texture like metal grinding. The instant the words fell, its massive body dipped slightly, and the incomparably powerful muscles in its legs suddenly tightened.
Rumble!
The ground beneath his feet instantly collapsed into a massive crater, and Enma had already used the recoil to launch itself into the air. Its enormous body displayed astonishing speed and explosive force utterly disproportionate to its size.
Like a falling meteor, it perfectly fused its terrifying weight with the momentum of descent, turning it into the most primitive and violent form of attack, smashing straight down toward Shinichi, who had just regained his footing.
A shadow engulfed him, fierce wind pressed down from above, and even the air emitted a shrill cry as it was forced aside.
He could not take it head-on.
Almost at the instant Enma leapt, Shinichi reacted. He did not retreat backward or dodge sideways in the conventional manner—the area covered by the descent was too vast.
He chose instead to charge forward, straight into the blind spot beneath Enma's body. At the same time, he dropped his body to its lowest possible limit, nearly skimming the ground, like a streak of black lightning gliding along the surface.
Whoosh!
In the split second before impact, Shinichi narrowly scraped past the very edge beneath where Enma was about to land. The violent wind pressure nearly tore him off balance, and the exposed skin on his body stung under the cutting gusts.
Boom!!!
Enma crashed heavily to the ground like a meteor strike. From the point of impact, a savage shockwave burst outward in a ring, the hard earth heaving and swelling like the surface of water before exploding apart.
Countless fragments of stone and soil were hurled into the air, forming a terrifying crater more than ten meters in diameter.
Shinichi did not pause for even half a breath. The instant he evaded the fatal blow, the thought of counterattack had already arisen. Under the cover of flying sand and stone, his body spun sharply; twisting his waist to generate force, he poured his full-body strength and chakra into his right leg. A peerlessly fierce side kick swept out like a battle axe, slashing toward Enma's ankle joint—relatively difficult to exert force from—just after landing.
Bang!
When his leg bone collided with Enma's ankle, the sound was like striking a solid steel pillar.
Enma's body merely swayed slightly, not even shifting half a step.
"The force isn't bad—but it's still lacking," Enma's deep voice sounded. Its massive arm swung casually, like a giant tree trunk sweeping sideways, carrying a crushing, destructive force.
Shinichi hurriedly retracted his leg and crossed his arms in front of his chest to guard.
Thud!
As his arms collided with Enma's forearm, Shinichi felt as though he had been struck head-on by a gigantic tank charging at full speed. The arms he used to block went numb instantly, and his entire body slid backward uncontrollably, his feet carving deep furrows into the ground. Only after being pushed back more than ten meters did he disperse most of the impact.
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