For a few seconds, neither of them said anything.
Madara stared at me.
Hashirama stared at me.
I simply continued eating my candy.
Then I smiled.
"Actually…"
I swallowed the candy and looked directly at Madara.
"By the time I'm seventeen, I'll be stronger than you."
Madara raised an eyebrow.
I continued before he could say anything.
"And not just you."
I pointed at both of them.
"I'm going to surpass everyone who came before me."
My smile widened.
"I'm going to set the standard so high that no one will ever be able to reach my level."
I paused for a moment.
Then I said it clearly.
"I'm going to become the strongest being to ever walk on this planet."
Silence.
Even I could feel how ridiculous that sounded coming from a four-year-old.
Madara looked at me for a few seconds.
Then—
"Hahahahahaha!"
Hashirama suddenly burst into laughter.
Madara followed soon after.
"Hahaha! What an ambition!" Hashirama said.
Madara crossed his arms, a faint smile appearing on his face.
"Strongest being on the planet?"
He looked down at me.
"That's quite the claim for a child."
I shrugged.
"Someone has to do it."
Madara laughed.
"Then grow stronger."
His expression became slightly more serious.
"If you truly intend to surpass us, don't just talk about it."
I grinned.
"I wasn't planning to."
Hashirama smiled.
"Then we'll wait for you at the top."
Madara glanced at him.
"We?"
"Of course."
I looked between the two of them.
Then I smiled.
'Good.'
'Now I have something to chase.'
I turned around and started walking toward the orphanage.
Behind me, Hashirama called out.
"Good luck, Karma!"
I raised one hand without looking back.
"I'll need it."
Once I turned the corner and they were out of sight, my expression became serious.
'Seventeen.'
I had deliberately chosen that age.
Thirteen years.
That sounded like a lot.
But when I thought about what I wanted to accomplish, it really wasn't.
I didn't want to become strong overnight.
I didn't want some random lucky encounter to hand me power.
If I was going to call myself the strongest, I wanted to earn it.
'Then let's start with the basics.'
The next morning, I began.
My training was simple.
Very simple.
Running.
Stretching.
Squats.
Push-ups.
Pull-ups whenever I found something sturdy enough.
Balance exercises.
Basic footwork.
And sword practice.
Nothing impressive.
My body was still that of a four-year-old, after all.
No matter how talented I was, I couldn't simply ignore that fact.
Trying to train like an adult would accomplish nothing except getting myself injured.
So I focused on what I could actually do.
My wooden sword became a constant companion.
Swing.
Step.
Guard.
Recover.
Again.
And again.
I already possessed an enormous amount of knowledge about swordsmanship through the Shanks template.
I understood the fundamentals.
I understood how the body should move.
How weight should shift.
How the hips and shoulders worked together.
How to minimize unnecessary movement.
But understanding something didn't mean my body could immediately execute it perfectly.
That was something I quickly learned.
'Knowledge isn't the same as experience.'
So I practiced.
Every day.
My movements gradually became smoother.
My balance improved.
My footwork became more natural.
My swings became cleaner.
Nothing dramatic happened.
There was no sudden breakthrough.
Just small improvements stacking on top of each other.
And that was exactly what I wanted.
Chakra training continued alongside my physical training.
I spent a lot of time sitting quietly and trying to feel the chakra inside my body.
My reserves were enormous.
That much was obvious.
But having a huge amount of chakra didn't automatically give me perfect control over it.
Control required practice.
So I practiced.
I focused chakra into my feet.
Held it there.
Adjusted the amount.
Stopped.
Then started again.
Eventually, I began experimenting with tree climbing.
The first few attempts were messy.
The first time I put too much chakra into my feet, I jumped off the tree instead of sticking to it.
I landed on my backside.
I stared at the tree.
'That was embarrassing.'
I tried again.
And again.
Eventually, I got it.
I stood against the tree trunk and looked down at my feet.
A grin slowly appeared on my face.
'Not bad.'
The Academy itself continued to be rather uneventful.
There were lessons.
Basic chakra theory.
History.
Shinobi rules.
Weapon safety.
Teamwork.
Mission structure.
Most of it was information I already knew.
But I still listened.
Because knowing something from an anime and actually living in a world where people could die because of it were two very different things.
There were also plenty of things I didn't know.
Small details about the founding of Konoha.
How the Academy was being structured.
How the village was organizing its shinobi forces.
How different clans were adapting to village life.
I paid attention to all of it.
The village was still young.
Everything was still being figured out.
That alone made the Academy interesting.
As the months passed, I occasionally saw Hashirama and Madara around the village.
Usually from a distance.
Sometimes they were walking through the streets.
Sometimes they were speaking with villagers.
Once, I saw them standing near the Academy grounds while I was leaving with the other students.
Hashirama noticed me and waved.
I waved back.
"Old man!"
Hashirama's smile immediately disappeared.
I laughed and kept walking.
Another time, I spotted Madara from across the street.
Our eyes met for a moment.
He gave me a small nod.
I returned it.
Nothing more happened.
That was fine.
There was no reason for us to suddenly become close.
I had only met them properly once.
Eventually, things would change.
But not yet.
For now, I had my own path to walk.
One afternoon, our instructor demonstrated a basic technique for the class.
I watched carefully.
Then another.
And another.
That was when I realized something important.
My talent was absurd.
But it wasn't magic.
If I had never encountered a technique, I couldn't simply know it.
I couldn't look at the sky and suddenly invent a jutsu I'd never heard of.
But once I saw something?
That was different.
My mind could break it down incredibly quickly.
Hand seals.
Chakra flow.
Shape transformation.
Nature transformation.
Everything.
One afternoon, a jōnin demonstrated the Shadow Clone Technique.
I watched silently.
The hand seals were simple enough.
The chakra distribution was the interesting part.
Unlike the ordinary Clone Technique, this wasn't simply creating an illusion.
The chakra had to be divided properly.
The resulting clone needed enough chakra to become physically tangible.
I watched the demonstration once.
Then I spent several minutes thinking about it.
'Interesting.'
Later, when I had an opportunity to practice alone, I tried it.
The first attempt failed.
The second was unstable.
The third—
Poof!
A solid clone appeared beside me.
I stared at it.
It stared back.
Then it smiled.
I smiled too.
'Okay.'
'That was cool.'
It still wasn't effortless.
I had to understand the technique.
I had to practice it.
And I had to stabilize the chakra distribution.
But compared to a normal shinobi, my learning speed was ridiculous.
That was the real advantage of my talent.
Not instant mastery.
Not unlimited knowledge.
The ability to learn almost anything incredibly quickly once I had encountered it.
And I intended to make full use of it.
The months continued passing.
My body slowly became stronger.
My chakra control improved.
My swordsmanship improved.
My Academy knowledge became nearly complete.
And little by little, I started reaching the limits of what the Academy could offer me.
I wasn't bored anymore.
I was impatient.
There was a difference.
One evening, I sat on the roof of the orphanage and looked across the village.
Konoha was still small.
The buildings were still new.
People were still learning how to live together.
There were no massive walls surrounding the village like the Konoha I remembered from the anime.
No generations of history.
No long-established traditions.
Everything was beginning.
And so was I.
I looked down at my hands.
'Four years old.'
I smiled.
'And I'm already thinking about becoming Hokage.'
I had no intention of waiting until adulthood to prove myself.
If the Academy couldn't challenge me anymore, there was only one reasonable thing to do.
I would graduate.
Early.
The next morning, I walked toward the Academy office.
I pushed the door open.
The instructor looked up from his desk.
"Karma? What is it?"
I stood straight.
"I want to apply for early graduation."
The instructor froze.
For a moment, he simply stared at me.
Then his eyes narrowed slightly.
"You understand what you're asking?"
I nodded.
"Yes."
He studied me for a few seconds.
Then slowly leaned back in his chair.
"This is going to require approval."
I smiled.
"Then I'll get it."
The instructor sighed.
He already looked like he regretted asking.
And just like that, my first real challenge had begun.