Naruto : Crimson wood

"Son, you're finally awake!"

Ryoji Takahashi's booming voice rang out, and before Renji Takahashi could reply, the door was kicked wide open.

"Dad, I'm an adult now. Can you not kick the door down every time? What if I was doing something... private?" Renji groaned, rubbing his temples.

Ryoji scratched his head with a sheepish grin and walked over to the bed in his usual carefree manner.

"Well, you weren't answering when I called you, so how was I supposed to know if you were awake or not? Fine, fine—I'll knock next time."

He gave Renji's shoulder a friendly slap—then thumped his arm for good measure.

"Ouch!" Renji winced. "Easy! I'm still sore all over."

"Pain's a good sign!" Ryoji chuckled. "You drained your spiritual energy, and your body's suffering from energy depletion. Didn't your teachers cover this in your theoretical classes?"

Renji paused, the memory faintly resurfacing. "...I think they did."

In every psychic, most of their spiritual energy is stored in their core, but some is distributed throughout their cells, fueling their strength and enhancing their physical abilities beyond that of normal humans.

But when you burn through too much spiritual energy, even the cells are forced to squeeze out their reserves—leaving your whole body drained and weak.

No wonder Renji felt like he'd been stomped on by a herd of angry beasts.

"But still, you did great this time, kid." Ryoji's voice softened, his eyes showing pride. "Holding out against a beast tide like that... you're really my son."

"I also heard you awakened a new Wood Release ability. Breaking out of the limits of your old system, huh? That's huge."

When Ryoji first learned that Renji had awakened the Wood Element and Spirit Eye, he hadn't shown disappointment outwardly. But deep down, he'd felt a little discouraged. Wood and Spirit Eye, despite their rarity, weren't seen as combat-effective compared to other abilities.

But now, Renji had proven everyone wrong.

"I told you, Dad. I'll prove my worth."

"Haha! That's the spirit! I'll cook whatever you want tonight—your pick!"

Renji smiled but quickly sobered. "Actually... what about my classmates? Are they alright?"

"Ah, you mean Yuna Hoshizaki, Shun Hayashi, and Zhao Mei?" Ryoji nodded. "They're fine—minor injuries, but nothing serious. You, on the other hand, were the most banged up. You've been out cold for two days straight."

"Two days?!"

Renji was shocked. He thought he'd only passed out for a few hours. No wonder his back ached so much.

"But..." Ryoji's voice grew heavy, "the overall losses were severe. Less than twenty students from your Special Class 3 made it back alive. The four Executive Department members and your supervising teacher... didn't make it."

When the rescue teams arrived, the battle was already over. All they could do was save those few students who were still barely holding on.

Renji's heart sank.

Just a few days ago, those classmates were joking with him, and the teachers were sternly guiding them in class. Now... they were gone.

He wasn't overwhelmed by sadness, but a heavy weight settled on his chest.

Reality... was cruel.

Before, he only knew about monsters in theory. Now, after facing them himself, he finally understood why humans clung so desperately to the safety of their city walls.

If third-level psychics couldn't survive against second-level monsters, how would anyone fare against the truly powerful fourth-level or fifth-level beasts?

"Dad, about those guys who attacked us riding the Flame Hawks... who were they? Why did they try to kill us?"

Ryoji's face darkened. "Their exact identities are still under investigation. What's certain is that they were rogue psychics—people expelled from one of the academies."

"From Azure Dragon Academy?" Renji asked.

"Not necessarily." Ryoji shook his head. "They might've been expelled from other academies. These are people who committed serious crimes, got exiled from human society, and now survive outside the city walls. They're bitter, desperate, and some of them... work with monsters."

Renji clenched his fists. "So they were the ones who started the beast tide?"

"Possibly. But we don't know for sure yet."

Ryoji ruffled Renji's hair. "Kid, this stuff's too heavy for you right now. Leave it to the academy's investigation team."

"...Okay."

Renji sighed. He wasn't strong enough yet to solve these mysteries alone.

"Oh, right—Dad. Do we still have any monster cores at home?"

Ryoji stopped mid-step. "Monster cores? Yeah, we've got some. What do you want with them?"

Renji's eyes lit up. "I need them for something important. Can I have a few?"

But Ryoji's expression suddenly turned serious. "Wait. You're not planning to absorb them to boost your realm, are you? Kid, that's suicide. Even I wouldn't mess with that."

Absorbing monster cores was known to increase spiritual energy... but the violent energy inside was highly unstable. Very few could handle it without severe backlash—even fifth-level psychics like Ryoji rarely tried it.

"Relax, Dad. I'm not that reckless."

Renji had no plans to absorb them directly. He had his own use for them.

Ryoji crossed his arms. "Alright, then how many do you want?"

"The higher the level, the better. Give me... as many as possible!"

Ryoji almost choked. "You think our family runs a monster core shop?!"

Renji laughed awkwardly. "Fine, fine. How about this: 100 second-level cores, 100 third-level, 100 fourth-level, and 100 fifth-level cores?"

Ryoji stared at him like he'd grown a second head.

"Son."

He placed a hand on Renji's shoulder, his face solemn.

"I'm your father, not some genie from a fairy tale. If you're asking for that many cores, why don't you switch places with me and be the dad instead?"

"Come on, Dad! You're a fifth-level psychic and one of the big shots in Azure City. Don't tell me the Takahashi family's broke?"

"Ha! Even a fifth-level psychic doesn't just have piles of monster cores lying around like candy. I'll give you ten second-level cores and three third-level cores. That's all you're getting."

"I'll take it!" Renji agreed instantly, not daring to push his luck.

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