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Unable to learn Ninjutsu, Rokuro dragged Okamoto into teaching him other forms of Taijutsu.
However, Rokuro quickly discovered something disappointing. The System refused to recognize Okamoto's standard Taijutsu routines as an independent skill. No matter how much he practiced, it only yielded generic Taijutsu EXP. Unlike Kunai Throwing, which had its own dedicated progression bar, the System didn't consider this a distinct technique.
It couldn't be helped. Okamoto was, after all, just a Chūnin. His combat style was comprised of standard, basic physical conditioning and strikes. It wasn't a specialized, secret technique like Might Guy's Eight Inner Gates.
Rokuro didn't mind not unlocking a new skill.
The combat experience Okamoto passed down was incredibly valuable. It would play a massive role in actual life-and-death battles later on. Besides, it still generated Taijutsu EXP, and sparring with an actual instructor was way more interesting than punching the air.
Okamoto placed high hopes on Rokuro. He spent seven full days personally acting as a sparring partner, passing on his practical combat experience. Once Okamoto felt Rokuro had absorbed the fundamentals, he left, satisfied, leaving the boy to train independently.
As soon as Okamoto left, the solo grind lost its luster.
Shadowboxing empty air was mind-numbingly boring. He needed a sparring partner to truly maximize his training.
However, bothering Okamoto again wasn't appropriate. The instructor was a busy man; dedicating seven days was already a massive favor. Rokuro needed to find his own opponent.
And so, his gaze drifted toward the room next door.
His neighbor's name was Naika Nikou, seven and a half years old. Okamoto had mentioned that Nikou was incredibly talented—the favorite to take first place in this year's combat tournament and earn a ticket to Konoha Headquarters.
The number one seed of the orphanage branch. He was the perfect sparring partner.
Therefore, on the fourth day of his solo training, Rokuro woke up at 5:00 AM, walked over to Nikou's newly repaired door, and knocked. "Anyone in there?"
Nikou was already awake.
A moment later, the door swung open. He was fully dressed in his training gear, clearly having been up for a while. Being a head taller than Rokuro, he looked down at the four-year-old with a cold expression. "Spit it out. What do you want?"
Rokuro looked Nikou up and down and declared with absolute seriousness, "I challenge you to a fight!"
Nikou's expression didn't change. "You're the brat who kicked my door in last month, aren't you? I let that slide, yet here you are, asking for trouble. If you're itching for a beating that badly, I won't hold back. Follow me."
With that, Nikou stepped outside and walked toward an empty clearing in front of the cabins.
Rokuro followed without a trace of fear.
The sky was still dark, but the faint glow from the cabin windows illuminated the clearing just enough to track movements. Nikou stopped in the center of the dirt lot and turned.
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
"I'm standing right here, aren't I?" Rokuro shot back.
Nikou nodded. "Then I won't hold back. I've heard rumors that you're a little genius. I hope you don't lose too quickly, or this will be incredibly boring."
So confident!
But Nikou had every right to be. The children here were trained from the moment they could walk. To reach the rank of number one, Nikou had to be a monster. In terms of raw physical strength, the older boy likely matched him. Rokuro knew he couldn't win with brute force alone; he had to rely on his cheat.
Strategy set, Rokuro took a step back, his eyes locked onto his opponent.
Seeing Rokuro's stance, Nikou scoffed. "You might be a genius, but to beat me, you'll need at least another year. Today, I'll teach you how to respect your seniors!"
Whoosh!
Nikou blurred into motion. He closed the gap in a single bound, launching a vicious front kick straight at Rokuro's face.
Rokuro wanted to test the waters. He needed to measure the gap in their raw power. Instead of dodging, he crossed his arms to block.
Bang!
The kick connected. A heavy kinetic force radiated through Rokuro's forearms, forcing him to slide three or four steps back in the dirt.
Despite being pushed back, Rokuro let out a sigh of relief.
Our strength is roughly equal.
Add his System cheat—the limitless stamina recovery—and he had absolutely nothing to fear.
Nikou's eyes widened slightly in appreciation. "Not bad. Not bad at all. You really are a genius to take a hit like that without flinching."
Rokuro puffed out his chest. "Obviously. I wouldn't have challenged you if I didn't have the strength to back it up!"
"Fair enough," Nikou said, settling into a lower, deadlier stance. "Then the warm-up is over. Watch yourself!"
"Bring it!"
Nikou had survived in this orphanage for over three years. Aside from his first year of foundation building, he had spent the last two years engaging in brutal, live combat drills. Rokuro, on the other hand, had only eight days of actual sparring experience.
The moment the real fight began, the gap in experience became glaringly obvious. When raw stats are equal, technique reigns supreme.
Nikou's strikes were ferocious, precise, and perfectly timed. Rokuro was completely overwhelmed. He couldn't find a single opening to counterattack; he was reduced to a human punching bag, desperately blocking and eating hits.
In less than five minutes, four heavy punches slipped through Rokuro's guard, slamming into his ribs and jaw. He gritted his teeth as pain flared through his small body.
But he didn't retreat.
This was the ninja world. Bleeding today meant surviving tomorrow. Let it hurt. As long as it doesn't kill me. Besides, Nikou wouldn't dare land a lethal blow. The Anbu were definitely watching from the shadows.
EXP could instantly wipe away physical fatigue, but it couldn't erase pain. Ignoring the throbbing bruises, Rokuro pushed forward, stubbornly looking for a window to strike back.
Fifteen minutes into the brawl, Rokuro's face was bruised and battered.
Yet, a savage grin spread across his bloody lips.
Because Nikou's punches were getting slower. His kinetic force was dropping.
Meanwhile, Rokuro's stamina was locked at 100%. Every block and counter he threw was just as heavy as the first. Now, when Nikou punched him, Rokuro no longer staggered backward; he stood his ground like an iron wall.
More importantly, this was real combat. Unlike Okamoto, who always pulled his punches, Nikou was fighting to hurt him. The pressure was forcing Rokuro to adapt rapidly, absorbing combat experience like a sponge.
The longer they fought, the more confident Rokuro became. Nikou was the ultimate whetstone. If he sparred with him for a few months, Rokuro would easily reach the standard of a seasoned Genin.
While Rokuro was internally celebrating, Nikou's expression turned grim.
The older boy finally understood why Okamoto praised this kid so highly. Rokuro's true genius wasn't his technique—it was his monstrous endurance. They had been fighting non-stop, yet the four-year-old's strength hadn't dropped a single fraction.
If this turned into a battle of attrition... Nikou realized with a jolt of panic that he might actually lose.