Naruto: Born Gifted in Konoha

Saitama crouched low on the ground, eyes fixed on a squad of Stone Shinobi clad in red ninja uniforms.

He quickly counted them—seven enemies in total. Judging by their appearance, they weren't especially strong, likely two Jonin leading five Chunin.

These Iwagakure shinobi were patrolling this area, though apparently unaware of the danger lurking nearby.

"Lead Enemy!"

A young ninja around fifteen years old called out. Though only a Chunin, his talent was decent and he came from a notable family in Iwagakure.

"What is it, Shuhei?" The lead enemy frowned slightly as he asked.

This boy, Shihara Shuhei, was the late-in-life son of an influential village elder. While gifted with solid skills among his peers, his attitude remained far too lax.

He started complaining not long after they set off.

Indeed, kids like him belonged back in the village enjoying comfort—not deployed on battlefield missions like this.

"It's nothing really—I just need to use the restroom. Is that okay?"

As soon as he spoke, everyone in the group wore strange expressions, yet no one said anything.

The Jonin leader let out a quiet sigh, though none could hear it, and waved him off.

Looking somewhat helpless, he glanced at each face in the team before throwing up his hands and shrugging—clearly not thrilled about it.

If it weren't for the fact that Shuhei's father held significant power in the village, there's no way he would've allowed such an undisciplined person into his squad.

Permission granted, Shuhei grinned happily before jogging toward some nearby boulders. He felt embarrassed about using the restroom openly.

Perfect opportunity—right where Saitama was hiding.

"Ugh, what a pain! My old man didn't have to drag me out here. It's way nicer back in the village anyway. Pfft!"

Muttering complaints under his breath, Shuhei loosened his belt and let out a deep breath, totally relaxed and showing no sign of alertness.

Hidden behind the rocks, he now stood completely out of sight from his teammates.

Zzzzip!

Seeing the shock frozen across the enemy's face as his body twitched uncontrollably, Saitama slowly pulled the blade from his heart, then released the hand that had covered his mouth.

Thud. The body slumped against a boulder, then slid sideways into the puddle he'd made earlier.

Blood mixed with excrement, drawing only the faintest wrinkle of disgust from Saitama. He took cover again, eyes on the remaining enemies.

"Shuhei! Hurry up!"

Several minutes passed, and the Jonin grew impatient, shouting impatiently.

No wonder he's taking so long! Guess that comes with being born into privilege—can't even go for a piss without taking forever!

Thoughts running through his mind, he approached nonetheless, oddly feeling uneasy without knowing why.

"Shu…"

Stepping past the boulders, the Jonin sniffed the air instinctively, catching a familiar scent.

Yet he barely had time to analyze it—before a pair of blood-red eyes suddenly loomed straight into his face.

"Enemy..."

He didn't have time to react. Before his hand could even reach his thigh to grab a kunai, Saitama's own blade had pierced through his heart, the crackling electricity surging through his body and erasing all traces of life.

Huh... huh!

Gasping for breath with ragged breaths, the enemy didn't die immediately. His eyes widened in shock as he stared at the sword protruding from his chest and the wild currents of electricity pulsing through him.

"Captain!"

"There's an enemy!"

This time, Saitama hadn't hidden behind rocks or cover.

After eliminating one jonin and one chunin, there were only five left — another jonin and four jonin. They were no longer anything worth fearing!

The remaining enemies saw Saitama, and the horrifying sight of their dead captain, letting out cries of alarm.

The final jonin swiftly took up a battle stance, staring directly at Saitama.

Tssk!

Pulling his own sword free from the enemy's chest, Saitama shoved the body forward, knocking it onto the ground, then stepped over it without hesitation.

The wind picked up, softly lifting Saitama's bangs.

His hair was short, barely reaching his ears. The Konoha forehead protector rested on his brow. Standing silently, he said nothing.

He stood still, not rushing in yet.

"Avenger our captain!"

A Stone Shinobi, clearly filled with rage, pulled out a kunai, his eyes burning with fury as he glared at Saitama standing before the corpse.

"Don't act recklessly!"

The remaining jonin raised a hand signaling others to stay quiet while lowering his body into a defensive stance, maintaining high alertness.

The enemy had just killed a jonin so calmly, like stepping on an ant.

And despite being surrounded by them now, he still remained composed. This jonin felt that Saitama was either incredibly foolish or truly extremely powerful!

"I'll hold him off. You guys fall back and call for reinforcements first!"

Realizing Saitama wasn't some fool, he turned to speak to the nearby chunin.

"This..."

Some of them hesitated, feeling they themselves might be capable of defeating this Konoha ninja who had strayed far from the main force.

"What are you thinking?"

A light, floating voice suddenly reached the jonin's ears, and when he looked ahead, Saitama had already vanished from his sight.

"When did he—!"

A bead of cold sweat slid down his forehead. Without daring to turn his head, he thrust his kunai backward — toward where the voice had come from.

Swish!

It stabbed into empty air — only the wind met the blade.

The jonin's eyes narrowed, and he noticed the wide-eyed expressions on the other chunin behind him — pure terror filling their gazes.

"It's over."

The thought crossed the jonin's mind, but he still turned around again.

Even if death awaited him, he wanted to see exactly how the enemy would kill him.

Tssk!

The sound of steel piercing flesh.

So this is what dying feels like. His vision blurred; his eyes lost focus. His body hadn't fully turn yet, but all strength drained from him the moment the blade entered.

Saitama remained cold and expressionless — showing mercy to the enemy meant inviting harm upon himself.

The current surging along his blade intensified once more. With his [*Sharingan*] activated, he gazed at the few remaining chunin, paralyzed by fear.

Saitama slowly smiled at them — but to those Stone Shinobi, it felt like receiving a death invitation from the Harbinger of Death himself.

Puff!

Another corpse crashed to the ground. Saitama kept the Chidori Current crackling along his blade as he strode through the blood-soaked battlefield toward the group of shinobi.

"Damn it!"

It was that same ninja who had sworn revenge for his captain earlier. He trembled as he gripped a kunai, his legs quivering ever so slightly. Though he tried to keep his face calm, the twitching muscles gave him away.

"You want revenge?" Saitama extended his left hand toward the ninja standing at the front.

"Die!"

He inhaled sharply, as though steeling himself for a final decision, before charging at Saitama.

Clang! The kunai snapped in half—one piece remaining in his hand, the other spiraling through the air.

Saitama scanned the remaining ninja — none of them wanted to fight anymore. His overwhelming power made them instantly realize the gap between them.

Ding! The broken kunai clattered to the ground alongside the body. That ninja had been cut clean through mid-air by Saitama's [One-Cut Strike], his throat sliced open, leaving behind a horrifying wound.

"Run! Scatter!"

A terrified female kunoichi shouted and bolted backward. Though she tried hard to stay composed, her legs were shaking beneath her.

With so many people scattering, surely at least one of us can escape!

Clutching onto that kind of A-Q-style hope, she sprinted away at full speed, now regretting that she hadn't fled earlier to call for backup.

At her warning, the remaining two also started fleeing, though their steps were unsteady.

Lifting the tilting blade upright again, Saitama moved as well. He had no intention of playing with his enemies — better to end things quickly and leave.

After all, this area belonged to the Land of Earth — better be cautious.

His figure vanished, catching up to the fleeing kunoichi in an instant. [One-Cut Strike]! The blade came down on her. The sword pierced through her back; she stiffened, then toppled forward. Inertia sent her sliding across the ground face-first.

Saitama's single stroke had severed most of her body apart, yet the connection at her shoulders barely maintained the integrity of her form.

Having eliminated this enemy, Saitama flickered several more times, vanishing and reappearing repeatedly to cut down the remaining two.

It wasn't teleportation — just speed beyond comprehension.

With the Stone Shinobi wiped out, Saitama didn't waste a second. Choosing a random direction, he resumed his journey.

The original site was left in chaos, stained with blood and littered with corpses — a gruesome, horrifying scene.

Yet none of that mattered anymore to Saitama, who had long departed. He was merely the creator of this scene, not its judge.

...

This was already the third day deep into the Land of Earth. Saitama's mission was to cause disruption behind enemy lines.

Because of his strength and his newness to the battlefield, Saitama had chosen not to join any small teams with other members of the vanguard unit. He believed only solo action could allow him to fully utilize his advantages.

Licking his dry lips, Saitama felt the first signs of dehydration setting in — the Land of Earth's climate was beginning to take its toll.

Looking ahead, Saitama spotted a forest to the northwest and increased his pace.

Where there's a forest, there's likely a water source nearby.

As he ran across the rugged ochre terrain, Saitama wasn't pushing himself to full speed.

He was saving chakra, and besides, accelerating with Lightning Release chakra would've drawn too much attention.

Approaching the forest, he remained alert, not letting his guard down for even a moment.

After ensuring it was safe, he cautiously stepped into the woods, looking for water or supplies.

...

The site of a recent battle.

A group of powerful Stone Shinobi had gathered around the area.

Among them stood an elderly ninja with bare arms, clad only in a grayish-yellow shinobi vest. His beard was already streaked with white.

Gazing at his son lying in a pool of blood, Shihara Shin felt a surge of rage inside, but since he didn't know where the killer was, that anger had nowhere to go and could only smolder within him.

"Whoever killed two skilled Jonin isn't some nobody—and they're clearly adept at Lightning Release. Follow these leads."

Though his hair was graying, his body remained sturdy, and his voice boomed with strength.

While suppressing his fury, he issued orders to his subordinates.

He'd originally thought the deep interior of the Land of Earth would be safe enough. That's why he'd joined a unit with two Jonin. But even so, they still ran into enemies.

Shihara Shin glanced at his son, Shihara Shuhei. He didn't move to hug the body like some dramatic movie scene.

Years as a ninja had forged a steel heart—he rarely showed his true emotions.

"Yes!"

The squad of shinobi nodded—they all knew their commander was seething and dared not show even a hint of hesitation.

"Clean this place up and bring all the bodies back with us!"

With those final words, he turned and walked away.

As captain of this patrol unit, he carried the Tsuchikage's orders. He couldn't afford to waste time here any longer.

Besides, this entire region fell under his patrol territory. As long as the enemy reappeared, they wouldn't escape his grasp!

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