CHAPTER 162: CHAPTER 162: THE HEART TREMBLING AGAIN

Chapter 162: The Heart Trembling Again

The battlefield had quieted, but a strange tension lingered in the air.

The ninjas cleaning up the aftermath were itching to approach Ryosuke, to thank him, to speak to him—even just to confirm he was real. But the more experienced among them stopped the eager ones with a quiet shake of the head.

Before long, a natural perimeter had formed around Ryosuke, an invisible line no one dared cross. Only Jiraiya and a few high-ranking advisors stepped within it. Even seasoned figures like Nara Shikaku and Hatake Kakashi stood respectfully at a distance.

Many who had known Ryosuke—or at least seen him around—wore expressions of disbelief. Especially those like Mitokado Homura and Jiraiya, who had exchanged words with him before. They couldn’t understand how a boy so young, barely more than a genin in the public eye, had just turned the tide of war with overwhelming strength.

Farther away, Naruto stood soaked in blood, but a grin stretched across his face. For once, he wasn’t frustrated chasing after a mysterious prodigy. Ryosuke had shown his power. Now, Naruto had a clear path to follow—and maybe, one day, to surpass.

Uchiha Sasuke, meanwhile, was still reeling.

He’d always known Ryosuke held back, but the sheer scale of power he displayed today was staggering. A boy the same age as him had just overwhelmed an army. If I had that strength... could I defeat Itachi?

Opposite them all, Ryosuke stood calm and indifferent.

He didn’t need to hear their thoughts to guess what filled their hearts: shock, envy, pride, maybe even fear. But none of it mattered much to him. He had never trained strength for applause. It was always for his own growth, his own purpose.

Noticing their silence, Ryosuke finally broke it with a composed voice.

"Hokage-sama. Advisors. Is there anything else you need from me?"

It was the first time he had revealed his true power in public. And he had done so without restraint.

Jiraiya looked lost for a moment, not knowing where to begin. He scratched his head and managed an awkward reply. "No... nothing, really."

Ryosuke nodded. "Then I’ll return home, if that’s all right."

"Of course. We’ll take care of the rest," Jiraiya said quickly. His tone was neither commanding nor overly deferential—more like speaking to a peer than a subordinate.

After a pause, he added, "I might visit later. To talk... about this whole event. Just like last time—sit down, drink some tea, chat."

Ryosuke nodded politely. "You’re welcome anytime, Hokage-sama."

He glanced toward Naruto and waved with a faint smile. Then, with a light step, his body floated into the sky, weightless, and vanished beyond the clouds.

No long-winded speeches. No desire for praise. Just gone.

The crowd of ordinary shinobi, still clearing debris and tending to the wounded, watched his departure with quiet awe. Some had wanted to thank him. Now that chance was gone—for now.

"...He might be even more terrifying than Uchiha Madara," Tsunade murmured, her brown eyes locked on the fading trail in the sky. "Whether it’s chakra control or nature transformation, his mastery is unreal. And that taijutsu... he’s practically an all-rounder."

"If he keeps developing at this pace, he might become the strongest ninja in the history of the shinobi world."

"You’re exaggerating," Mitokado Homura countered, adjusting his glasses calmly. "And underestimating Madara and the First Hokage."

He gestured with a small shake of his head. "Yes, Hyuga Ryosuke is strong. But look at his opponents—basic Kirigakure troops. Not a single member of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen, no Mizukage, not even an elder among them."

"Being born into the Hyuga clan explains his taijutsu. Chakra control? That’s in the bloodline. And if he has an affinity for all five elements, then he’s just exceptionally gifted. But gifts aren’t the same as greatness."

Tsunade frowned. "Couldn’t he have trained each element individually?"

"You underestimate the time required," Homura replied. "Mastering even one elemental transformation from scratch can take decades. Halve that for geniuses, sure—but Ryosuke is what, seventeen? Ten years at most of experience? There’s no way he trained each element to that level on his own. He was born compatible."

He concluded, "He’s powerful, but he hasn’t defied the logic of ninja development. Not yet."

"Enough."

It was Koharu Utatane who interrupted this time, her sharp eyes narrowing.

"Jiraiya, weren’t you a bit too... deferential to him? You’re the Hokage."

She turned fully to face him. "And you didn’t even ask why he hid his strength all this time."

Tsunade and Homura paused, their argument forgotten.

Jiraiya didn’t answer right away. His eyes were still on the sky where Ryosuke had vanished.

"...Too humble? Maybe. Or maybe you’ve placed me on a pedestal I don’t deserve," he muttered.

He glanced sideways at her. "That boy might already be stronger than me. How exactly do I demand answers from someone like that?"

He looked back up. "I don’t know if he compares to Madara or Hashirama. But I know he surpasses me. Even in Sage Mode."

Koharu frowned. "You’re still the Fifth Hokage—"

"Hokage? Titles are just words." Jiraiya’s voice was low but firm. "I never saw myself as worthy of it. Not yet. Not until I’ve truly protected this village."

He folded his arms.

"Ryosuke protected Konoha today. He deserves respect more than I do."

He glanced back at Tsunade and Homura. "And your analysis? You missed something."

"All throughout that battle, he used at least six techniques that were easily super S-rank. Not spread out over hours—within minutes. Without flinching. Without chakra exhaustion."

"And then he flew away like it was nothing."

Jiraiya’s voice turned grim.

"The only shinobi with that kind of chakra pool are jinchūriki. And even among them, not all could’ve done what he just did."

He looked them both in the eye.

"If something were to happen, I doubt even all of us combined could stop him."

Although what Jiraiya said was hard to believe, the truth remained undeniable: a young man with barely ten years of experience had crushed veteran shinobi who had survived since the First Great Ninja War.

But facts don’t ask for permission to exist.

"Anyway, I’ll investigate this matter thoroughly," Jiraiya said.

Ignoring Tsunade beside him, he turned a steely gaze toward Utane Koharu and Mitokado Homura. "But before that, I hope you both understand something clearly."

"The era of the Third Hokage and Shimura Danzo is over. Since you entrusted me with the position of Hokage, I will lead the village—my way—until the next successor is chosen."

"No more labeling talented shinobi as threats. No more arbitrary decisions to exile or silence them. That ends today. I won’t allow those despicable actions to continue in my time."

In that moment, Jiraiya shed the image of the wandering sage and revealed the resolute will of a Hokage who had walked countless bloodstained battlefields.

Far above, Ryosuke withdrew his gaze from the village below and silently turned toward home.

---

Avoiding prying eyes, Ryosuke returned to the Hyuga compound without fanfare.

Located in the heart of Konoha, the clan grounds were mostly untouched by the chaos of battle. Still, many clan members had participated in the war—including Hyuga Hiashi, the clan head. Ryosuke had seen him earlier on the battlefield. They exchanged a brief nod, nothing more.

Hinata and Hanabi, both still at the Ninja Academy, hadn’t been allowed to fight.

Ryosuke made his way to the training ground near the main estate. There, with no hesitation, he began retracing every moment of his fight with Bruno.

Shave. Iron Body. Tempest Kick. Finger Gun. Paper Art.

The Marine Six Styles—at least the five he had witnessed. Each technique tightened the body, controlled the flow of energy, and refined muscle memory. The process was painful—numbness, fatigue, and aching strain—but it was the kind of pain he craved.

Because it was the pain of progress.

"Finally..." he muttered, excitement glinting in his eyes.

This was what he lived for. Not admiration. Not fear. Not fame.

Just growth.

Blueno had not used the sixth technique—Moonwalk—during their battle. Perhaps the terrain made it difficult. Still, it left a gap in Ryosuke’s understanding.

(Guys Bruno is a romanized name for Blueno in one piece)

No matter. He knew the origin of these techniques now.

With a gesture, Ryosuke activated a genjutsu. The scenery warped into a perfect illusion, recreating the battle with Blueno in vivid detail.

This was no ordinary memory.

Blueno, after all, was not from this world.

He came from the world of One Piece, a manga Ryosuke had read in his previous life. A world ruled not by chakra, but by Devil Fruits, Haki, and naval combat.

Blueno Devil Fruit—the Door-Door Fruit—allowed him to turn any surface into a door. Air, ground, walls—it didn’t matter. He could step through reality itself.

It was this power that allowed him to breach the heart of the Land of Fire, escorting the Kirigakure army past Konoha’s defenses.

But Ryosuke was certain: the fruit alone couldn’t explain how Blueno crossed dimensions. That ability was far beyond what he had seen in One Piece.

Blueno had barely scratched the surface of his fruit’s potential. He relied more on the Marine Six Styles than on his Devil Fruit. His use of the Door-Door power was shallow, mostly for retreat and infiltration.

As the memory reached its climax, Ryosuke watched the moment Blueno unleashed his trump card—Revolving Door.

This technique turned a part of the enemy’s body into a spinning doorway on contact.

In the manga, it might’ve looked amusing.

In reality, it was horrifying.

Even if the original version didn’t kill, Ryosuke wouldn’t gamble his life on that. Not when he had everything to lose. The second he sensed the danger, he struck with full power—no hesitation.

Blueno died instantly.

Ryosuke had hoped to keep him alive. He wanted to learn more—to extract knowledge about interdimensional travel, to study his abilities, maybe even use him as a passageway to another world.

But he couldn’t afford to take the risk.

Even now, rewatching the battle in perfect detail, he couldn’t uncover the true mechanism behind the Devil Fruit’s power. Perhaps it wasn’t something that could be observed. Perhaps one had to eat a fruit to understand it.

That, too, frustrated him.

So much wasted potential.

Not just inBluenox’s abilities—but in what he represented. Proof of a wider reality. A clue that there might be more out there.

And Ryosuke wanted more.

He had no peers here. Not really.

The only ones who might challenge him were Nagato with his Rinnegan, Uchiha Madara in his prime, and possibly Uchiha Itachi—if granted the Eternal Mangekyō.

That was why he hadn’t cut ties with Naruto or Sasuke.

He wasn’t nurturing them out of sentimentality.

He was grooming rivals. Future obstacles.

Obstacles he desperately needed.

Sometimes, he even fantasized about abducting Orochimaru, forcing him to use Edo Tensei to revive the Shodaime and Nidaime Hokage—just to experience battle with legends.

Because this was the burden of being too far ahead.

The loneliness of the peak.

For Ryosuke, power meant nothing without progression. Without challenge. Without something greater to reach for.

And for a long time, that road had seemed empty.

But then Blueno arrived. And with him, the promise of more.

More invaders. More worlds. More possibilities.

It didn’t frighten him.

It thrilled him.

Because if there were other travelers—other warriors—then there were still mountains left to climb.

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