Chapter 46: The Proving Grounds
As Hatake Sakumo walked out, the surrounding Anbu operatives who had been training or moving through the area immediately stopped. A uniform, disciplined silence fell.
"Captain!"
All the masked ninjas saluted in unison. Shinra followed suit.
Sakumo gave a slight, acknowledging nod, signaling them to stand at ease. He moved through the small crowd, his gaze settling squarely on Shinra.
"I acknowledge that your talent and mindset are far beyond the scope of a standard Academy student. They even surpass many chunin. However…"
His voice took on a harder edge. "The Anbu is not as simple as you might imagine. Joining here means facing true combat. Battles where you fight the enemy with the intent to kill. It is a world of 'you die or I live.'"
"Therefore, before anything else, I must verify your true strength. To see if you are truly qualified to wear this mask. More importantly, to understand your limits. That will determine the difficulty of the missions I assign you."
Shinra now wore the cat mask and gray trench coat, looking no different from any other operative in the room.
And Sakumo's expression was no longer the kindly one from before. It was stern, analytical, and carried the weight of a man who had made life-and-death decisions countless times. It was the face of a commander.
Clearly, from the moment Shinra donned the mask, Sakumo no longer saw him as "Shinra," but as a new recruit to be assessed.
Shinra understood perfectly. This was a test.
And it seemed the proctor would be Sakumo himself.
What level is Hatake Sakumo? Shinra wasn't entirely sure, but "Kage-level" was a safe bet. This was, after all, the shinobi spoken of in the same breath as Hanzo the Salamander. A man who commanded the respect of the Sannin.
The thought sent a thrill of excitement through him. Until now, all his battles had ended in one-sided domination. While satisfying in its own way, it offered little opportunity for growth. He couldn't identify his own weaknesses.
Sparring against a Kage-level fighter was completely different. With Sakumo's experience and insight, even a few casual pointers would be invaluable. Moreover, Shinra was deeply curious about the famed Hatake sword style that had instilled fear across the ninja world.
Most importantly, Whitebeard himself had been a master bisento wielder before obtaining the Tremor-Tremor Fruit. The sword arts inherited in those memories were undoubtedly formidable. Shinra's previous physical limitations and focus on basics had kept him from exploring them, but now… kenjutsu could be added to his regimen. Punching things to death was effective but crude. He wanted to experience the sweeping, dominating presence of a master bladesman.
And what better way to start than by crossing blades—or fists—with the man whose kenjutsu was legendary? The benefits would be immense.
The training ground was swiftly cleared. The surrounding Anbu operatives formed a silent ring, their postures attentive. An opportunity to witness the White Fang in action, however brief, was a rare chance to learn.
"When you're ready. Give it everything you have."
The two stood facing each other in the center of the stone arena. Sakumo's quiet words hung in the air, and a palpable, suffocating pressure began to radiate from him, washing over the spectators.
Is this the pressure of a Kage-level presence?
Shinra's brow furrowed slightly. Sakumo stood casually, hands at his sides, offering no obvious opening. He looked utterly relaxed, yet Shinra's instincts screamed that attacking would be like charging a mountain.
BOOM!
Shinra held nothing back. He launched himself forward with the Burst Step, the sound echoing like a cannon shot in the cavern. The stone floor beneath his feet cracked. To the watching Anbu, he didn't just move fast—he vanished from his starting position entirely.
"So fast!" Several masks twitched in shock. This speed surpassed what many of them were capable of, and they couldn't even track his afterimage.
A flicker of appreciation crossed Sakumo's eyes. This explosive power and velocity were on par with, if not beyond, many jounin.
BUZZ—CRACK!
The air itself vibrated and seemed to shatter. Shinra, having closed the distance in an instant, descended from above Sakumo, his fist driving downward wreathed in the hazy white distortion of his power.
Sakumo's eyes sharpened, analyzing the unique ability. Simultaneously, he tapped a toe against the ground, his body effortlessly gliding back over ten meters, creating distance with an almost lazy grace.
"Five meters," Sakumo murmured, having instantly judged the effective range of Shinra's concussive wave just from the air pressure.
Seeing this, Shinra's heart sank a little. Of course. It was too much to hope to pressure a Kage-level fighter so easily. He read the attack perfectly.
A sense of frustration warred with acceptance. But this was the point, wasn't it? Every weakness exposed now was a path to future strength.
With that thought, Shinra exploded into motion again.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The arena became a drumbeat of concussive impacts and shuddering stone. The ground trembled violently, dust shaking loose from the ceiling. Yet, despite the ferocious assault, not a single one of Shinra's blows had come close to touching Sakumo. The man's combat experience was inhuman, his footwork and anticipation bordering on prescient.
Still, Shinra didn't panic. While Sakumo was observing him, he was also studying Sakumo—his rhythms, his evasions, the space he controlled.
"Captain," Shinra said, coming to a sudden stop several meters away. A strange smile was audible in his voice. "The warm-up is over. I'm going to get serious now."
A new, heavier, more oppressive aura suddenly bloomed from Shinra's form, distinct from the vibrating power of his fists.
The surrounding Anbu, already impressed by his display, jolted as one. The looks behind their masks shifted from assessment to outright disbelief.
"No way…"
"He wasn't even using his full strength before?!"
"This is… what is that pressure?"
(End of Chapter)
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