"On top of that, you need to strengthen your control over Fire Release shape transformation even further. The next step is using Wind Release to boost the speed and impact of the flames. Without a strong enough foundation in shape transformation, you won't be able to keep control of a Fire Release technique's direction, trajectory, shape, or power once it's caught in a gale."
"As for what comes after that, that touches on chakra nature transformation. That's a field for jonin. We can talk about it after you've at least learned one proper Fire Release or Wind Release nature transformation."
Jiraiya finally closed his erotic novel, looked at Uchiha Gen, and continued explaining the finer points in his usual loose, offhand way.
Gen stood there wiping the sweat from his forehead, listening with full concentration. From time to time, he asked a question, and every time he did, Jiraiya actually answered in surprising detail.
In terms of Wind and Fire Release, Jiraiya really was an expert. The only one of the five basic natures he was notably weak in was Lightning Release. In the rest, he was more than capable, especially when it came to combining elemental techniques. It was obvious he had inherited the true teachings of Hiruzen Sarutobi.
Once the explanation ended, Gen returned to training without another word.
No matter how clearly someone explained things, it still had to pass through his own body before it could truly become his.
Jiraiya, meanwhile, seemed to think he had already done more than enough. Satisfied, he left Gen and the others behind and wandered off to enjoy himself somewhere nearby.
Gen did not even need to guess where he had gone. Most likely, he had gone back to some bathhouse or hot spring after feeling dissatisfied with what he had seen earlier.
He only reappeared several hours later.
"That's enough for today," Jiraiya declared.
He glanced over the training ground, now covered in scorched earth, gouges, and half-buried ninja tools, and seemed fairly satisfied with the result. Then he pointed behind Gen.
Gen turned and saw Uzuki Ruri supporting Sarutobi Enjun as they slowly walked over from the other side of the field.
Ruri's face was pale, but she was still standing upright.
Enjun looked far worse. His steps were unsteady, his complexion sickly, and every few seconds he bent over as if he might throw up again.
Jiraiya had chosen to end training now for only one reason.
If he let it continue any longer, one of those two would probably collapse for real.
So the toad's illusion really is that terrifying.
"Little Jiraiya, I'll be taking my leave now. Remember to visit Mount Myoboku when you have time. Next time, I'll prepare the most sumptuous feast for you."
Gamachikara's voice rang out in that strangely affected, seductive tone of his.
"Ahem. Sure. Another time. Definitely next time," Jiraiya said, his expression awkward for once.
The moment he thought of the so-called feast prepared by the toads of Mount Myoboku, even he looked a little uncomfortable.
"Then I'm off."
Gamachikara winked at Jiraiya, dispelled the summoning, and vanished in a burst of white smoke.
"Jiraiya-senpai, could you please change the training method next time?" Sarutobi Enjun said weakly, his face full of suffering. "At this rate, I'm going to lose ten years off my life from this genjutsu resistance training."
Ruri pressed her lips together and nodded hard in agreement.
Training with Orochimaru was simply exhausting.
Training with Jiraiya was outright spiritual torture.
"Well, Orochimaru asked me to train your resistance to genjutsu," Jiraiya said as he scratched his head. "At your current level, I don't really have a better method than this."
It was not as though he could train them through genjutsu with his own hands.
Jiraiya himself was very good at resisting illusions, but he was no expert at casting them. In that area, the toads of Mount Myoboku made up for his weakness.
If he tried to do it himself, the effect would be nowhere near as good as Gamachikara's.
"Is it really that scary, Flame Falcon?" Gen asked quietly, giving Enjun's shoulder a light nudge.
Enjun's face immediately twisted.
"It's a million times worse than the worst thing you can imagine," he said hoarsely. "Brother, trust me. Do not ever try to pry into the truth behind this. You'll go insane. Luckily, the illusion world Ruri saw wasn't the same as mine. Otherwise, I really would've gone mad on the spot."
The eldest son of the Third Hokage, one of Konoha's top second-generation heirs, was now on the verge of tears.
In the entire village, probably only Jiraiya would dare use a method like this to torment him.
"Ahem." Jiraiya folded his arms and straightened up, trying to sound righteous. "Even if the process is a little uncomfortable, the results are excellent, aren't they? Once you can break out of this genjutsu quickly, you'll already be able to resist most conventional illusions. After that, if we raise the difficulty even further, training you to my level isn't impossible."
That sentence only dealt Enjun another devastating blow.
"The difficulty can go even higher?" he cried. "Jiraiya-senpai, how did you survive that kind of training back then?"
His face was filled with genuine horror.
At that moment, a very plausible explanation surfaced in Ruri's mind.
"Now I understand why Jiraiya-senpai turned out like this," she said with grave seriousness. "Spying on women in bathhouses, reading erotic books all day... it must be because he suffered some unspeakable physical and mental trauma during this training and had to use other things to patch over the damage inside."
The logic was smooth. The conclusion was brutal.
Jiraiya opened his mouth.
Then closed it again.
Because he realized he had no way to refute her.
What was he supposed to say?
That he was not warped by trauma, but had simply been born a shameless lecher?
"Enough, enough. Stop talking nonsense," he muttered irritably, waving a hand. "I'll take you to Tsunade so she can help you recover. And while we're there, this brat can start learning some medical ninjutsu from her."
The moment he said that, all three members of Orochimaru's team lit up.
For Orochimaru, training was suffering.
For Jiraiya, training was torture.
But for Tsunade...
Tsunade was pure salvation.
***
"Hiss... ahhh... this is the life..."
Sarutobi Enjun lay limp on the bed, eyes unfocused, the corner of his mouth practically drooling as if his soul had left his body.
"T-thank you very much, Lady Tsunade..."
Ruri lay beside him, face flushed, voice soft with embarrassment as she whispered her thanks.
"No need to be shy," Tsunade said with a helpless smile. "I've been relatively free around this time every day lately. If training leaves you too tired, come here and rest. After all, Jiraiya is... well."
She did not finish the sentence, only sighed.
No one understood Jiraiya's unreliability in the wrong areas better than she did.
At the other side of the room, Gen sat at a wooden desk with a brush pen in hand.
He had just finished a written test.
"Lady Tsunade, I'm done," he said, standing and handing the paper over.
Tsunade took the sheet, her amber-brown eyes sweeping over him. "Are you sure you don't want to check it one more time? Saving lives isn't the same as taking an academy exam. You can pass a written test with sixty points. Medical treatment allows no mistakes."
"Saving lives also depends on speed," Gen replied calmly. "If you only correct a mistake after the treatment is already finished, then there may be no chance left to make up for it."
Tsunade's gaze shifted slightly.
Jiraiya, who had been leaning against the wall, raised his brows as well.
That answer was mature far beyond Gen's age.
Gen himself remained completely composed.
He had not spoken carelessly.
During this past period, after forcing himself through stack after stack of medical texts, he had already formed a rough understanding of the current level of medicine in the ninja world. It was primitive, scattered, and lacking a real system. Every decision on the treatment table could mean the difference between life and death.
This was especially true in wartime.
There was no room for the leisurely pace of a classroom test.
Tsunade lowered her eyes and began reading through the paper in silence.
The room grew quiet.
Only the faint green glow of medical chakra, the rustle of paper, and Enjun's occasional foolish-sounding sighs could be heard.
Gen stood there patiently.
He had taken the test seriously.
Not because he was confident he could already become a medical ninja, but because he wanted Tsunade to see one thing clearly.
He was worth teaching.
After all, learning medical ninjutsu was not just about treating others.
For him, it could also become a key to future survival.
It might even become the prerequisite for the dangerous technique Orochimaru had already warned him about more than once.
Tsunade flipped the last page down and looked back at him.
There was a strange expression in her eyes now.
Part surprise, part scrutiny.
"You really did read all those books," she said.
"I did."
"And you remembered almost all of it."
"Almost."
Tsunade tapped the paper lightly with her finger.
"Your fundamentals are very solid. Your understanding of wound treatment, bleeding control, musculoskeletal injury, and infection prevention is better than I expected. You even understood some of the diagnostic logic hidden between the lines, not just the written answers themselves."
She paused.
"But that doesn't mean you're ready to become a medical ninja. Theory is only theory. On the battlefield, blood is hot, bones break unevenly, poison spreads, organs rupture, and patients don't lie obediently on a bed waiting for you to think."
"I understand," Gen said.
"No. You don't." Tsunade set the paper down and folded her arms. "Not yet."
Her tone was not harsh, just direct.
"But you do have the qualifications to keep learning."
At those words, even Gen felt a small current of relief pass through his chest.
Tsunade's standards were famously high. If she was willing to say he had the qualifications, that already meant a great deal.
Jiraiya laughed from the side. "See? I told you this kid wasn't bad. Orochimaru always picks up troublesome little monsters."
"Troublesome indeed," Tsunade muttered.
Then she looked at Gen again.
"From tomorrow onward, whenever your schedule allows, you'll come here and begin practical study. First, observation. Then basic chakra control for treatment. After that, animal work. If you can't handle blood, flesh, pain, and mistakes, you'll stop there."
"Understood."
"And one more thing." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Medical ninjutsu is not a toy. If you only want to learn it because it looks useful, or because it gives you another way to win, then you'll never get very far. A medical ninja needs steady hands, a calm mind, patience, and the willingness to carry responsibility for someone else's life. Can you do that?"
Gen met her gaze without dodging.
"I can't promise I'll become someone as great as you, Lady Tsunade. But I can promise that if I put my hands on a patient, I won't treat that life lightly."
For a brief moment, Tsunade's expression froze.
That answer had none of Jiraiya's noisy righteousness and none of Orochimaru's cold detachment.
It was restrained. Practical. Yet still sincere.
"...Fine," she said at last. "We'll start there."
Ruri, who had been resting on the bed, quietly turned her head to look at Gen.
Even Enjun, dazed and limp as a salted fish, seemed to regain a sliver of awareness.
Tsunade picked up the test paper again and lightly flicked it against Gen's forehead.
"Take this back and copy out the parts you got wrong ten times each. Also write a summary of your reasoning on the case questions. I don't want rote memorization. I want to see how you think."
"Yes, Lady Tsunade."
"And next time, don't answer me with that kind of expressionless face," she added. "It makes you look like a little Orochimaru."
Jiraiya burst out laughing.
Gen's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.
That was not praise.
At least, not entirely.
***
When the treatment and the written assessment were finally over, the afternoon light outside had already softened.
Jiraiya stretched lazily and announced that he was leaving first.
No one asked where he was going.
The answer was too obvious.
Enjun and Ruri also recovered enough to stand and walk on their own, though Enjun still looked like his soul had only half returned to his body.
Before they left, Tsunade gave Gen one final instruction.
"Go back and review the basics of chakra pathway control tonight. If you want to use medical ninjutsu, your fine control has to reach another level. Your Fire Release and Wind Release training won't help you here much. This is a completely different kind of precision."
Gen nodded seriously.
He already understood that.
Explosive ninjutsu favored output, trajectory, balance, and timing.
Medical ninjutsu required delicacy bordering on obsession.
The difference between the two was like the difference between cutting down a tree and stitching together a severed tendon.
On the road back, Ruri walked quietly for a while before speaking.
"Yuan... do you really plan to keep going with medical ninjutsu?"
"I do."
"That sounds hard."
"It is."
Enjun let out a dramatic groan. "If I were you, I'd rather set myself on fire with Fire Release every day than read another one of those medical books."
Gen glanced at him. "You've never liked studying."
"Studying is one thing. Those books are another. Those are torture manuals disguised as knowledge."
Ruri couldn't help laughing softly.
The three of them continued down the street under the fading light.
For a brief while, it almost felt peaceful.
But Gen knew better.
Their current lives only looked calm because Konoha still stood strong and the flames of war had not yet fully spread to the village itself.
Beyond that fragile peace, the battlefield was already churning.
Every new technique learned, every lesson endured, every little improvement in strength or survival skill—those things were not luxuries.
They were preparation.
The kind bought in advance with sweat and pain, so the price paid later in blood might be a little lower.
And now, after Orochimaru's hellish training, Jiraiya's grotesque genjutsu resistance drills, and Tsunade's door finally opening a crack in front of him, Gen could feel more clearly than ever that he was standing at the edge of a new stage.
A stage where raw talent alone would no longer be enough.
He needed knowledge.
Precision.
Control.
And perhaps, in time, the ability to keep both himself and the people around him alive.
That night, when he returned home, he placed Tsunade's marked test paper neatly on the table.
Beside it were the copied medical texts, the sealing technique manuals, the scroll Orochimaru had given him, and the various training notes he had accumulated over the past month.
The pile had grown higher and higher before he even realized it.
Gen stared at it for a while, then sat down silently.
Outside the window, the night wind stirred the leaves.
Inside the room, he lit the lamp, picked up his pen again, and began copying out the mistakes Tsunade had marked one by one.
The ink flowed steadily across the page.
He did not complain.
There was no point in complaining.
In this world, the chance to be taught by Orochimaru, Jiraiya, and Tsunade in turn was something countless people could only dream of.
No matter how hard it was, no matter how bitter, no matter how outrageous the training methods became, he had to make the most of every bit of it.
Because one day, the war would intensify.
One day, the weak would be swept away first.
And one day, if he wasn't strong enough, knowledgeable enough, or prepared enough, then all the things he was trying so hard to preserve now—his life, his future, his place in Konoha, his value within the Uchiha clan, the path he had managed to carve out with such difficulty—could all disappear in an instant.
Gen lowered his eyes and continued writing.
Tsunade's test was over.
But the real test had only just begun.