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"Where exactly is the place Deputy Chief Igawa mentioned?"
"He doesn't know either. That's why he sent us to look. Haruhashi, tell me—how are we supposed to find that brat if he's hiding somewhere on this huge island to train in ninjutsu?"
Haruhashi was in no mood to respond, his irritation palpable.
"Besides, that kid has already returned to the village. So why is Deputy Chief Igawa still so fixated on finding his training spot?"
Haruhashi's mood was foul, and hearing his companion's words, he abruptly stopped walking.
"You want to know the reason?" Haruhashi asked.
"Not really," one of the ninjas chuckled dryly.
"Tch." Haruhashi sighed. "Do you know why Deputy Chief Igawa despises Midorima?"
"Isn't it related to Igawa Tai's death?"
"Exactly. The deputy minister has always wanted to kill him. Midorima disappeared for nearly a month before suddenly reappearing. With the selection tournament approaching, it's likely he spent that time improving his skills. Hōzuki Mangetsu, Terumi Mei, and Zabuza are all under surveillance. If he trained alone, his progress would be limited. So, Deputy Chief Igawa suspects someone else was helping him. Our job is to find that person."
"And kill them?"
"Depends." Internally, Haruhashi sneered at his companions.
Midorima had chosen to vanish rather than train with Zabuza and the others—meaning this mystery person had to be stronger than Zabuza.
Did these three idiots really think they could kill someone like that?
What a joke.
Haruhashi had already made up his mind. If they stumbled upon anything unusual, he would flee immediately—even if it meant sacrificing these two.
Someone had to report back. Why shouldn't it be him?
His companions would surely understand.
"Some fishermen mentioned strange activity near the cliffs up ahead. Should we check there first?"
"Fine." Haruhashi agreed.
Right now, they were like headless flies—any lead, no matter how small, was worth investigating.
Once they decided on their destination, the three prepared to move, only to see an old man in a tattered hooded cloak shuffling toward them. Gaunt and dressed in rags, he looked like a beggar.
A fishing rod rested on his shoulder as he hummed, "The Great King sent me to patrol the mountains~"
Haruhashi and his companions quickly stepped aside, pinching their noses.
But the old man stopped in front of them.
"How'd you like my singing?" he asked.
"Sounded like shi—"
Haruhashi cut off his companion, holding his breath. "It was wonderful."
"Heh… I thought so." The old man adjusted his fishing rod and continued on his way.
Only when he was far enough did Haruhashi release his nose, gasping for air. "Damn near suffocated me. What kind of garbage singing was that? And he had the nerve to ask us?"
"Disgusting!"
"Let's just go. If another old geezer shows up, I'll die from the stench."
Haruhashi nodded, and they hurried toward the cliffs.
Meanwhile, the old man hummed the tune a few more times before scratching his head. "Hmm, still not right. Ah well, I'll ask that kid when I see him again. Said he was from Kirigakure, didn't he? Where the hell is that? Doesn't matter. Just keep walking and ask for directions at the next fork. The Great King sent me to patrol the mountains~ Yeah, that's closer."
---
Meanwhile…
On the first day of the Seven Swordsmen selection tournament, two contestants died, and ten others suffered severe injuries. The medical team was swamped.
Midorima had only planned to observe as a formality, but seeing the medics too busy even to use the restroom, he realized they were critically understaffed. So he donned a white coat and—
—got kicked out by Shimomura.
He tried again.
Kicked out again.
In the end, Midorima had no choice but to assist as a porter, hauling medicinal herbs to ease the medics' burden.
---
Day Two.
Early in the morning, a contestant with a nearly split-open torso was carried in on a stretcher.
After a brief inquiry, Midorima learned it was Zabuza's handiwork.
By noon, another patient arrived—a man with severe burns, screaming in agony so horrifying it was hard to listen.
Just as Midorima was about to ask more questions, someone tapped his shoulder. He turned to see Mei, clutching her left arm, entering the medical bay.
"What happened?" Midorima was surprised to see her injured.
No one in the first round should have been a threat to her.
"Got careless. Fell for my opponent's trap. Probably a fracture." Her face was pale.
"Who was it?" Midorima asked.
Mei's gaze shifted to the wailing patient.
"…"
Midorima realized it was a stupid question.
"Hold still." Gently, he took her arm, channeling chakra to assess the injury. Using a chakra scalpel, he realigned the bone, then applied [Activation] to accelerate healing.
For good measure, he added two splints.
"Don't remove these until tomorrow morning," he reminded her.
"Got it… Oh, you're up next, right?" Mei asked.
"Yeah."
"Think you can win?"
"Not sure. I don't know his strength." Midorima thought of the mantis and sighed.
At first, he'd wondered if he had some innate talent for attracting enemies without trying. Turns out, Igawa Bu was still pulling strings behind the scenes.
"I'll be cheering for you from the stands." Mei clenched her fist.
"Ha… Just focus on recovering." This was his first official match in such an arena, and he didn't want extra pressure.
"It's fine. Who knows when my next match is? No rush."
Mei grew more excited, ignoring Midorima's reluctance as she dashed out of the medical bay.
Shimomura, fresh from surgery, spotted the two and smiled. But before he could speak, another patient was wheeled in, forcing him back to work with a sigh.
---
4:30 PM.
A staff member entered the medical room, notifying Midorima that his match was about to begin.
After a quick handover, Midorima followed the attendant through the competitor's tunnel.
Just then, a group of medics rushed past, pushing a gurney.
Midorima glanced at the body on it—a white cloth draped over the face—and exhaled quietly.
Another life lost.
It was tragic, but this was the world of shinobi.
Even ordinary Chunin Exams could be deadly, let alone something as brutal as the Seven Swordsmen selection.
Outside, the audience buzzed with excitement over the previous match.
The blood and violence didn't unsettle them—if anything, it fueled their fervor.
They weren't here to witness life-and-death battles. None even noticed that, amid their cheers, another ninja had perished.
"Next up—the final match of the day! Akamatsu Yusuke versus Midorima Asachi! Both fighters, please enter the arena!"
The announcer's voice snapped Midorima out of his thoughts.
Steeling himself, he walked onto the battlefield.