My Techniques are a bit off

The next afternoon, Ninja Academy.

"Good afternoon, Mizuki-sensei."

Link looked at Mizuki, who had "coincidentally" appeared again, feeling both amused and exasperated.

Did this guy not realize how obvious and suspicious his timing was?

"Good afternoon," Mizuki replied with a cheerful smile before quietly leaving.

Watching Mizuki's retreating figure, Link sighed silently. It seemed that standing out and showing unique abilities inevitably drew unwanted attention.

Today was his first day at the academy, and… well, it felt rather underwhelming.

After registration, all the new students were gathered into a classroom. With only about a hundred students in the entire school and 20–30 in his cohort, there was no need to split into classes. Even the concept of grade levels was vague.

The teacher in charge of their cohort—who we'll call the homeroom teacher for simplicity—spent the morning introducing the students to physical training and assessing their fitness levels.

Unfortunately, among his peers, Link's physical abilities ranked below average. However, his perseverance stood out; despite the discomfort, he gritted his teeth and completed the running test without giving up.

Although the homeroom teacher didn't directly evaluate each student, it was clear he was satisfied with Link's determination.

For ninjas who hadn't yet reached a certain skill level, effort and persistence were highly valued traits.

…

After the fitness assessment, the first lesson was a lecture on the basics of chakra. It wasn't entirely a regurgitation of the scrolls, but there wasn't much new information either. Link had already learned most of it from his late father.

After lunch, the students had their first cultural class—history.

Or rather, it was more of a political indoctrination session, beginning with the Will of Fire.

While it was inspiring for the children, it felt tedious and meaningless to the adult soul inside Link's small body. Nevertheless, he put on an expression of being deeply moved.

This pretense was important. The academy's curriculum—separate from its grading system—was divided into six modules: theory, practice, physical training, reflections, mindset, and history.

The fact that history was given its own module demonstrated how much importance the Konohagakure placed on it.

Link wanted to rise through the ranks as a ninja. To do so, he couldn't afford to seem too detached. Even if he acted mature, he couldn't appear overly aware or clear-minded.

Genius was acceptable, but a genius who completely deviated from their environment would raise suspicions.

The Konohagakure was a military organization, not a peacekeeping force. If someone seemed suspicious, they wouldn't hesitate to act, often detaining the person and reading their memories before determining guilt.

…

Returning to the topic of the academy, the school didn't follow a gradual, step-by-step teaching approach. From the very first semester, students were tested on taijutsu, ninjutsu, individual combat, team combat, and tactics. Only the first day was relatively light.

Starting tomorrow, the schedule would consist of morning physical training, theoretical lessons, cultural classes in the afternoon, and simulated combat sessions afterward.

The first semester didn't include mental training.

Mental training wasn't about building mental resilience but rather desensitizing students to killing, being killed, and witnessing the death of comrades.

(This was evident during the mission to retrieve Sasuke, where Chōji's near-death surgery brought Shikamaru to tears, prompting Temari to ask why he hadn't already been conditioned by mental training.)

This desensitization was why even children as young as seven or eight could become ruthless killers on the battlefield.

No matter how idealistic the Will of Fire sounded, it couldn't change the fact that the Konohagakure was a war machine. Mental training was essentially brainwashing, ensuring that children could accept taking the lives of others.

The ninja profession was inherently dark: espionage, sabotage, assassination, intelligence gathering, and war. Concepts of justice and evil had no place in it.

Ninjas were tools focused solely on completing their missions, with no regard for morality or emotions.

Given this context, while the academy claimed to be a six-year program, that didn't mean all six years were spent in education.

The cultural and foundational knowledge portions of the curriculum were completed within the first year. The remaining years focused increasingly on combat drills, tactical training, and mental conditioning.

The school didn't require students to excel academically or achieve outstanding grades. Graduation was simple: when a student felt ready, they could take the graduation exam. There was no mandatory enrollment period.

In other words, if Link wanted to, he could take the graduation exam as early as next year. The exam's difficulty—randomly drawing an E-rank ninjutsu—was so low that anyone capable of enrolling could pass it.

Only outliers like Uzumaki Naruto would fail the exam three times in a row.

Most ninjas with even a modest background chose to complete the full six years of training, especially during peacetime, when early graduation was unnecessary.

…

Even after graduation, genin would still face evaluations from their jonin mentors. As Kakashi Hatake once mentioned, only about one-third of genin were deemed fit to continue, with the rest sent back to the academy for further training.

But Link's circumstances were different.

He knew about the Konoha Crush Plan in three years, the Pain Invasion in seven years, and the Fourth Great Ninja War in eight years.

He couldn't afford to stay in the academy and slowly grow stronger.

Graduating quickly and finding ways to learn more ninjutsu was the only viable path. Chakra reserves were secondary.

After refining chakra, a ninja's physical fitness and chakra capacity would grow rapidly for a time. The reason was straightforward:

The people of the Naruto world had vastly more cells than Earthlings. Their training methods, however, were surprisingly similar. When muscles were slightly torn during exercise, they repaired themselves by strengthening existing fibers and generating new muscle to adapt to the strain.

Chakra refinement, which consumed physical stamina, pushed the body to its limits, breaking down muscle fibers in a unique and comprehensive way. The body naturally responded by repairing and restructuring itself while building more muscle to meet the demands of chakra refinement.

When combined with proper physical training, this process stretched and deformed cells, increasing membrane permeability and boosting the availability of free amino acids within the cells. These amino acids provided the raw materials for protein synthesis, accelerating muscle growth.

This two-pronged approach made it nearly impossible for ninjas not to grow stronger quickly.

However, the human body had its limits. Training produced diminishing returns over time. No matter how much one pushed themselves, progress was ultimately capped by innate talent. Hard work could only bring someone closer to their natural limit—and might not even reach another person's baseline.

This was why concepts like chakra capacity were so important.

Link's chakra control was excellent, allowing him to gauge his progress more accurately. But it also made him pessimistic. He knew that if he maintained his current effort level, his rapid progress would plateau within six months. After that, he'd have to rely on natural growth as he aged to develop greater physical strength and larger chakra reserves.

By then, it would be time to graduate early.

His path to power would lie in mastering more ninjutsu.