Naruto: My Progress in Konoha.

Whoosh~ Whoosh~ Whoosh~

Suddenly, a sharp whistling sound cut through the night.

From the dense forest ahead, hundreds of kunai shot out like a torrential downpour, so dense it looked like a wall of steel. The sheer number made it hard to even look directly at them.

"Watch out!"

With a loud warning shout, Nakajima Hiroshi's hands flashed into motion, weaving seals at lightning speed. After taking a deep breath—

Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!

A simple C-rank jutsu, but when executed by him, its power was comparable to high-level offensive ninjutsu.

A fierce whirlwind erupted from his mouth like a Level 12 hurricane, tearing through the trees in front of them and flattening a massive section of the forest.

As for the kunai?

They were blown back completely, flying off in all directions.

From Haruki's estimation, Nakajima must have at least mastered the technique to Lv3, and the chakra expenditure easily exceeded 500 points.

Otherwise, such a powerful effect wouldn't be possible.

Logically, if it were just to repel the incoming kunai, he wouldn't need to burn so much chakra.

Was he just overflowing with chakra?

Of course not.

Nakajima did this not just to block the weapons, but to intimidate the enemy—to shatter their morale, ruin any traps, and force them to reveal themselves.

And it worked.

Before the dust could even settle, more than a dozen Iwagakure shinobi darted out of the smoke.

They tried to appear calm and composed, but the leaves and broken branches clinging to their bodies made their disheveled state obvious.

Still, Haruki and the others didn't find it funny.

Because right after that, another ten Iwa-nin emerged from both sides, slowly encircling them.

Haruki's eyes narrowed.

"This is bad."

The enemy had arranged themselves in six small squads, and the leader of each team wore the standard flak jacket of an Iwagakure jōnin.

Though he wasn't sure if all of them were genuine jōnin, at the very least, they were special jōnin—and six of them was already more than enough trouble.

Konoha's First Division, excluding the team left behind to guard the camp, had only thirteen people:

Two jōnin

Two special jōnin

Six chūnin

Three genin

The enemy, on the other hand, had:

Six jōnin-uniformed captains

Eighteen more ninja, half of which were chūnin and the other half genin or equivalent.

So not only were they outnumbered, they were outclassed.

And that didn't even account for the Iwa-nin currently fighting the Second Division.

Since the enemy could afford to deploy so many troops here, it meant they were confident they could handle the other Konoha unit.

Whether due to sheer numbers or raw strength, it spelled disaster either way.

Because once the fighting on that side ended, they'd be facing even more enemies.

"Fortunately..."

Haruki glanced subtly up at the night sky.

He trusted that Seiya Okura had already seen what was happening here through his summoned owl's eyes. As long as they held out for a while longer, reinforcements from the main camp would arrive soon.

And if they moved quickly, they might even be able to turn the tables and surround the enemy instead.

But…

"If I can think of that, the Iwa-nin surely can too."

There was no way they would take such a huge risk just to kill a few low-level ninja.

That made no sense at all.

A faint feeling of unease settled in Haruki's chest.

Still, the situation left them no choice. Even if they wanted to stall for time, the enemy wouldn't allow it.

Sure enough, the moment the Iwa-nin on both flanks completed their initial encirclement, they launched their attack.

There were no taunts or delays—on the battlefield, it was always a fight to the death.

But the sheer disparity in numbers placed the Konoha side at a severe disadvantage.

The only silver lining was that both sides had jōnin present, so there was no slaughter of genin by high-ranking shinobi.

This was one of the unspoken rules of warfare:

Unless one side held overwhelming superiority, jōnin wouldn't directly target genin.

The power gap was simply too massive. If jōnin attacked genin recklessly, the resulting casualties would be devastating.

And in retaliation, enemy jōnin would begin hunting genin too. The result? Both sides losing their next generation of shinobi.

If every battle ended with the genin wiped out, there'd be no future for any village.

Still, the pressure on Haruki and his team was enormous.

Even after excluding the jōnin on both sides, they still had to fight enemies who outnumbered them 2-to-1.

Haruki glanced at his struggling teammates and knew he could no longer hold back.

"I need to reduce the enemy's numbers—fast."

If any of his teammates went down, his burden would only increase.

With that thought, Haruki quickly opened his status panel to check his chakra—

2100 points.

"More than enough," he muttered.

The teenage Iwa-nin fighting him seemed startled and paused briefly.

"What's 'enough'?" the boy asked, clearly caught off guard even while mid-battle.

Haruki was momentarily stunned. He hadn't expected this Iwa-nin to be so chatty during a fight.

"Maybe he's not feeling pressured enough?"

With that in mind, Haruki lunged forward explosively, closing the distance in an instant.

He twisted his wrist, switching his kunai from normal grip to reverse grip, and slashed it toward the boy's throat.

Sensing the danger, the boy froze. His brain went blank, reacting only on instinct.

Whoosh—!

The kunai sliced through the air, leaving a silver arc, but missed by mere centimeters.

The Iwa-nin touched his throat, relieved to find himself still alive. A hint of joy flickered in his eyes.

But then—

"Watch out!"

A sudden shout came from the side.

"Watch out? Watch out for what?"

The boy turned his head toward the voice, only to see his comrade staring at him in panic.

No—more precisely, his comrade was staring at his chest.

Looking down, the boy's expression changed.

There, stuck to his flak vest, was a glowing explosive tag.

His face turned deathly pale.

The joy in his eyes vanished, replaced by pure despair.

"No—!"

A desperate, terrified scream tore from his throat.

BOOM—!

A deafening explosion rocked the area.

Fiery red flames surged up and swallowed the Iwa-nin entirely.

By the time the flames faded, Uchiha Haruki had already used Body Flicker Technique to retreat a safe distance.

The light from the blast flickered across his face—but his expression never changed.

This was war. Life and death were determined by skill and timing.

He didn't pity his enemy.

In fact, without missing a beat, Haruki's eyes shifted to the other Iwa-nin who had called out the warning earlier.

Whoosh—Whoosh—Whoosh—!

Three shuriken shot toward him like bullets.

That shinobi dodged left, then right, but was still grazed by one of the blades—it cut across his arm, drawing blood.

It wasn't surprising.

Haruki's Ninja Tool Proficiency was Lv3 (210/1000).

His thrown weapons were accurate and powerful, dangerous even to a chūnin—let alone a distracted genin.

Had Haruki possessed some poison-coated tools, that shinobi would already be dead.

But it wasn't a big deal.

One more strike would do the job.

With that thought, Haruki used Body Flicker Technique again, appearing before the wounded Iwa-nin in the blink of an eye.