The forest was eerily silent.
The rustling of leaves in the wind now sounded especially piercing.
Tokuma Hyūga, still holding his Gentle Fist stance, was completely frozen.
Kumo Yakumo's face had turned pale, and she instinctively covered her mouth with her hand, trying hard not to make a sound.
Both of their eyes were fixed on the corpse lying on the ground, cleanly split in two.
The sight had already exceeded their understanding of the word "battle."
The client, Furukawa, a middle-aged blacksmith who had been grumbling the entire way, was now collapsed on the ground, his legs trembling and his crotch soaked.
The way he looked at Roy was like he was staring at a demon crawling out of hell.
Minato Namikaze's figure silently appeared on the scene.
He glanced at the corpse on the ground, then at Roy, who stood there quietly wiping dust from his scabbard—dust that wasn't there.
For the first time, his gaze was unreadable.
"Tokuma, Yakumo, keep watch on the surroundings." Minato's voice broke the dead silence.
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a certain force that instantly snapped the two terrified kids back to their senses.
"Yes!" Tokuma quickly responded, forcing himself not to look at the corpse again, immediately activating his Byakugan and warily scanning the area.
Yakumo also steadied herself, pulling several explosive tags from her ninja tool pouch and starting to set up simple traps around Furukawa.
Minato walked over to the corpse and crouched down. He ignored the gruesome wound and carefully examined the deceased's ninja tool pouch and clothing.
"A missing-nin from Kusagakure," he quickly concluded. "A bounty hunter. Probably after the trade list in Mr. Furukawa's possession."
He stood up, holding two scrolls. He tossed one of them to Roy.
"You all did well. This mission has already exceeded the scope of a C-rank; it can be considered B-rank." Minato spoke as he quickly dealt with the traces at the scene. "Roy, dispose of that corpse. Tokuma, you handle yours. We need to leave here before Konoha's Anbu arrive."
His tone was calm, as if discussing something utterly ordinary.
This professionalism and composure quickly infected everyone.
Tokuma and Yakumo stopped trembling and began executing orders methodically.
Roy nodded and walked over to the corpse. Without hesitation, he formed a few hand seals.
"Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique."
A blast of searing flame erupted from his mouth, engulfing the corpse and the surrounding bloodstains. The temperature of the flames was so high that in less than a minute, only a pile of black ash remained on the ground.
After finishing, he looked at his still somewhat young hands. This was his first time killing someone with his own hands.
He felt nothing. No excitement, no disgust. It was like stepping on an ant that was in the way.
Even he himself thought he might be a little abnormal.
The return journey was unusually silent.
No one spoke.
Tokuma no longer complained about the tedious journey, and Yakumo put away her sketchbook.
The only sounds in the group were those of the wind and their footsteps as they traveled.
Roy could sense two gazes, intentionally or not, falling on him.
One came from Tokuma beside him.
That look was complex—filled with awe, confusion, and even a trace of... fear.
The other came from their teacher, Minato, at the front of the group.
That look was subtle, but Roy knew his teacher was observing him.
The Raiga at his waist now felt like a branding iron, constantly reminding everyone of what had happened a few days ago.
That night, they set up camp by a stream.
After Minato announced they would rest, Tokuma and Yakumo both kept their distance from Roy, each finding a spot to sit and silently chew on their dried rations.
Roy didn't mind.
He walked alone to the stream and splashed cool water on his face.
"Roy."
Minato's voice came from behind him.
Roy turned around. His teacher was standing there; his usual smile was gone, replaced by a gentle yet undeniable seriousness.
"Let's talk."
The two walked to a large rock away from the camp and sat down.
Minato didn't beat around the bush. "What you used that day wasn't ordinary swordsmanship."
It wasn't a question; it was a statement.
"Yes," Roy admitted. He knew that any attempt at denial would seem ridiculous in front of the Yellow Flash.
"That power is very strong, but also very dangerous." Minato looked into his eyes. "The toll it takes on you must be considerable, right?"
Here it comes.
Roy knew this was a hurdle he had to clear.
"Yes." He nodded, letting a hint of well-timed fatigue and helplessness show on his face. "It's a secret technique I developed on my own. It involves compressing chakra to an ultra-high density and undergoing a nature transformation, unleashing immense destructive power in an instant. But like you said, Sensei, it places a huge burden on the Meridian. Every time I use it, it's like gambling with my own body."
He embellished the painful experience of developing Thunder Annihilation.
Of course, he substituted the core concept of Armament Haki with ultra-high-density chakra compression.
It was a half-truth.
It explained the origin and power of the ability while justifying its significant drawbacks.
Minato listened quietly. As a genius, he could detect flaws in Roy's explanation, but he didn't call him out on them.
Every shinobi has their secrets. Forcing them open would only create a rift between teacher and student.
"I see." He nodded. "This is a powerful technique, but also a double-edged sword. I won't forbid you from using it, but remember, Roy, don't become overly reliant on this power."
His tone became earnest.
"A shinobi's true strength lies not only in the number of powerful jutsu they master. It also lies in their will, their comrades, and their resolve to protect what matters. Your mind is your strongest weapon. I hope you won't forget that."
"Yes, I understand, Sensei." Roy lowered his head.
The conversation ended there.
Roy knew he had passed this test, for now. Minato had accepted his explanation, but the seed of doubt had been planted.
He would have to be even more cautious in the future.
The next day, the team's atmosphere shifted subtly.
During breakfast, Tokuma hesitated for a while but eventually sat down next to Roy.
"Hey," he said, handing over a rice ball. "Thanks for taking the watch last night."
"Mm." Roy accepted the rice ball.
Then, the two ate in silence, neither speaking further.
But the invisible barrier between them seemed to have lessened a bit.
Yakumo still didn't dare get too close to Roy.
However, the fear in her eyes when she looked at him had diminished, replaced by more curiosity.
It seemed she wanted to draw this mysterious team leader in her sketchbook.
Another day passed, and finally, the familiar gates of Konoha came into view.
The mission was over.
Walking into the village, seeing the peaceful streets, Tokuma and Yakumo let out long sighs of relief.
It felt good to be home.
Roy also relaxed.
But it wasn't his body that relaxed; it was the nerve that had been constantly taut.
He instinctively pressed his hand against the Raiga at his waist.
The cold touch kept him utterly lucid.