"Chōza!"
"Chōza, are you okay!?"
A swarm of Chūnin teachers rushed over as Akamichi Chōza collapsed, clutching his leg and howling like a banshee.
Guts just stood there, confused and slightly panicked, his foot still hovering midair like it hadn't gotten the memo.
"...Didn't know the human tank of Konoha was so... crispy," Guts mumbled under his breath.
Then, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, he looked around and asked, "Uh... I don't have to pay for the medical bills, right?"
The silence that followed was almost spiritual.
The invigilator's face went from shocked to utterly offended. This brat just drop-kicked a teacher and is worried about the bill?
Thankfully, Shinku Yūhi, one of Konoha's most reliable Jōnin, stepped in, crouched beside Chōza, and examined his leg.
"Relax," Shinku said calmly. "It's not broken—just dislocated. He'll be at Konoha Hospital, and with his build, he'll be back on his feet in ten days."
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Two burly Chūnin hauled Chōza away like moving furniture.
Meanwhile, the invigilator scribbled something down with a trembling hand.
Taijutsu: 10/10
"Thanks, Uncle!" Guts grinned and gave Shinku Yūhi a friendly slap on the shoulder.
To be honest, he was genuinely worried. His monthly comfort money barely kept him fed.
If he had to pay for a clan-sized hospital bill, he'd probably have to sell an organ. Or worse—get a job.
Guts wasn't born in this world. He'd reincarnated here over five years ago, into the life of an orphan whose Chūnin parents had died in the Second Ninja War. He'd been scraping by on government pity ever since.
But a stroke of luck (or cosmic irony) came in the form of a system—the Character Template System. His first template?
Monkey D. Garp.
Yes. That Garp. The one who could flatten mountains with a punch and discipline his grandson with fists instead of feelings.
Shinku Yūhi eyed the boy curiously. That kick had real power. "You've got solid Taijutsu. Who trained you?"
"Oh, it's Mr. Might Duy."
That was a lie. Well, half a lie. Technically, Guts had gained Garp's monstrous training regime through the system.
But in the world of shinobi, Might Duy was the only one with a training method wild enough to match it.
His goal? Master the one true forbidden technique: The Eight Inner Gates.
Forget Rasengan, Shadow Clones, or Mangekyō this or that. All that flashy chakra nonsense wasn't for him.
Even Madara nearly got one-shot by a well-timed Taijutsu kick.
Guts wanted raw, terrifying strength. Garp-level strength. Destroy-a-country-with-your-fist strength.
Shinku squinted. "Might Duy? Never heard of him."
"Exactly," Guts replied with a smirk. "That's what makes him great."
Just then, Kurenai Yūhi walked up with the attitude of someone ready to throw hands.
"You're really something," she said, folding her arms. "Worried about medical expenses? What kind of boy does that?"
Guts clicked his tongue, raised his hands in the shape of an L with both thumbs and forefingers, and said, "Spoiled rich kids don't understand. When you've lived off instant ramen and stale bread for five years, everything costs too much."
"You—!" Kurenai's ruby-red eyes sparkled with rage.
She was beautiful, sure—Third Hokage's favorite Jonin's daughter, high-ranking legacy, boys simping left and right (especially that clown Asuma). She was used to admiration, not backtalk.
But before she could fire back, Shinku stepped in with impeccable timing. "Alright, that's enough. Kurenai, your turn for the test."
With a dramatic huff and a glare that could peel paint, Kurenai strutted off.
She scored decently too:
Ninjutsu: 8
Shuriken: 7
Taijutsu: 7
Good enough to pass.
About an hour later, the exam results were posted. Familiar names popped up:
Hatake Kakashi, Sarutobi Asuma, Ebisu, Shiranui Genma, Yuhi Kurenai, Uchiha Obito… and of course—
Guts.
But there was one surprising name missing: Might Guy.
"No worries," Guts said, slapping Guy's shoulder. "They've got make-up exams next month."
Guy clenched his fists, tears streaming down his face like a leaking faucet.
"OH!!! This minor setback cannot extinguish my YOUTH! Guts! Let's run 200 laps around the village—NOW!"
Guts didn't even blink. "Make it 500."
You could hear the record scratch across the crowd. Wait—what?
Kurenai, who had barely walked out of earshot, did a double take. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"
Kakashi, Asuma, even Obito looked like they'd seen ghosts.
Among the murmuring parents, Shinku Yūhi's expression turned serious. He silently watched the scene unfold, muttering to himself:
"…Are we looking at a future monster of Taijutsu?"
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