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The first round of matches would take three days to complete, followed by a one-day break. This interval was primarily for arena maintenance and to give contestants time to rest and recover.
The medical team was equally busy. Patients in critical condition required surgeries, while those temporarily incapacitated needed hospitalization, follow-ups, and bandage changes.
Thus, the medical ninja became the busiest group among all the shinobi.
Midorima initially wanted to lend a hand wherever he could, but the medical team collectively rejected his offer. Eventually, they even posted his photo at the workplace with a large red "X" over it—he was forbidden from setting foot in the medical ward until he was eliminated.
As a result, Midorima had no choice but to watch the first day of the second round from the spectator stands.
Kisame Hoshigaki and Ringo Ameyuri both made their appearances, and the matches were far more intense than those in the first round.
However, Midorima couldn't shake the feeling that the second-round matches seemed to end faster than the first day's, though he wasn't entirely sure.
When Mei Terumi handed him a chart comparing the durations of the first and second rounds, he scrutinized it carefully.
On average, the second-round matches lasted about a minute longer than those in the first round.
"Wait, isn't the rule that the contestant with the longest match time gets eliminated?" Midorima asked, puzzled.
Logically, the second-round matches should have been shorter.
"Not necessarily," Mei explained. "The opponents in the second round are stronger, and when skilled fighters clash, the battles naturally take longer. Those who finished their first-round matches quickly had already built up an advantage. If you look closely at the chart, more than half of the losers were contestants who took too long in the first round. They grew impatient after failing to secure a quick victory, and their opponents seized the opportunity to defeat them."
"What about me…?" Midorima glanced at his own record—5 minutes and 11 seconds in the first round, ranking 18th overall.
As long as his second-round match didn't drag on excessively, he wouldn't be at risk of elimination.
"Your opponent finished her first-round match in just one minute," Mei said. "I'm guessing your match won't last very long."
"Why?"
"Neither of you are the type to drag things out. But if you're thinking purely about winning, I'd actually advise you to prolong the fight."
"Huh?"
"She specializes in swordsmanship and has an aggressive fighting style, so her stamina probably isn't her strong suit."
"What if she has incredible endurance?" Midorima countered.
"Then there's nothing you can do except take her down."
Seeing Midorima's gloomy expression, Mei stuck out her tongue playfully.
Still, she didn't think Akimoto Ruri was some kind of stamina monster—if she were, the Anbu would have recruited her long ago.
This match would heavily depend on strategy.
If Midorima could come up with a solid plan, victory wasn't out of reach.
Midorima shook his head. He had never fought Akimoto Ruri before, so the best he could do was "adapt as the situation demands." He'd decide on a strategy once the match began.
The second round consisted of 25 matches spread over two days.
Zabuza's match was on the afternoon of the first day. It was a one-sided slaughter—his opponent barely had a chance to fight back. After narrowly escaping death multiple times, the cornered contestant raised his hand in surrender.
Mei's match was the first on the second day. Unlike Zabuza, she gave off an air of absolute control in the arena. Her opponent struggled to break free from her grasp, but her offensive pressure wasn't as overwhelming as Zabuza's.
In a way, it seemed like Mei was using the match to adjust her form.
Of course, Midorima also watched Kisame's match. One word summed up his performance—terrifying.
From beginning to end, the opponent had no room for resistance and was knocked down directly, and he could never stand up again. And his odds of entering the Seven were also the lowest, which also indirectly confirmed his strength among the contestants.
Unlike the first round, though there were many injured contestants—most of whom would need bed rest—no one died this time.
Midorima's match was scheduled for the morning of the second day. Just like in the first round, the odds were against him, even slightly worse than Akimoto Ruri's.
Yota clutched some money in his hand, eyeing the bustling betting stalls with excitement. But his sister's words echoed in his mind:
"If you dare imitate Father again, don't ever call me 'sister' from now on."
Gripping the money tightly, Yota didn't take another step forward.
"Please let my sister win. She has to win." He clenched his fists, silently praying.
A thin, elderly man walked past Yota. The old man gazed at the distant arena, one hand on his hip and the other leaning on a fishing rod.
"So this is the competition everyone's talking about?"
He strode toward the entrance but was stopped by the guards.
"Ticket?" The old man blinked, then shook his head. "Don't have one."
He was promptly shooed away.
"Since when do you need a ticket to watch a fight? How annoying." Gripping his fishing rod, he began circling the arena, searching for another way in.
He was determined to find a ticketless entry.
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"Are you really sure about using a sword against her?"
Mei handed Midorima a ninjato, her eyes filled with skepticism.
"Absolutely." Midorima gave the blade a light swing—the weight felt just right.
Aside from the elite blades wielded by the Seven Swordsmen, most ninjato were of similar quality. Even if it broke, he could always mold his chakra into a blade shape, much like Asuma Sarutobi.
"You… I had high hopes for you, but now…" Mei clicked her tongue twice, a teasing smirk on her face. "Losing isn't the end of the world, but make sure you stay alive. If you surrender, raise your hand fast and high—otherwise, you might get accidentally killed."
"Are you out of your mind?" Midorima glared at her.
Who the hell jinxes someone before a match even starts?
"You didn't forget our bet, did you?" Mei shot back.
"What bet—" Midorima's jaw dropped. He had forgotten until she mentioned it.
"Good, you remember." Mei smiled faintly.
"..."
If he had a choice, Midorima would've preferred to keep forgetting.
Just then, a staff member notified Midorima that the match was about to begin. Mei had to leave him and return to the stands.
Zabuza sat in the front row, wearing an oversized pair of sunglasses he'd somehow gotten his hands on. Combined with the bandages covering the lower half of his face, barely any skin was visible.
"Why the sudden sunglasses?" Without warning, Mei yanked them off, revealing a massive black eye on the right side of his face.
"Damn woman, what's your problem?!" Zabuza snatched the glasses back and put them on.
Attacking when he least expected it—how despicable.
"Hold on, what happened to your eye? Who hit you? You were fine yesterday!" Mei was utterly confused.
"Enough! Watch the damn match!" Zabuza gritted his teeth. "If you lose, you'll really be letting me down."
"Huh?" Mei turned to Midorima, who had just stepped onto the arena. "He did this to you?"
"Didn't I tell you to stop asking?!" Zabuza was growing increasingly irritated.
"I just don't get it—isn't he a medical ninja? Why didn't he heal you?"
"He did…" Zabuza seethed. "You think he only punched one eye?"
"What?"
At that moment, Mei couldn't help but pity Zabuza. At the same time, she grew even more curious—what on earth had happened between them last night? While Midorima was completely unharmed, Zabuza was left with two black eyes.