This was Minato's next method of cultivation—Garp's Fist Training! He had derived this approach from his memories of another world, knowing that true power required a foundation of unbreakable physical strength.
Konoha didn't have warship prows for him to pummel, so he would pummel refined steel directly! He calculated that the density of the steel provided a more consistent resistance than wood or stone.
Once he smashed a hundred of them, he likely wouldn't be inferior to Garp. It was a long-term goal, but one he pursued with silent, cold intensity.
Minato, you're bleeding!
Noticing the blood on Minato's fists, Kushina cried out in alarm, her voice echoing through the quiet valley. She rushed over, quickly grabbing Minato's hand to check it carefully, her face pale with concern.
Eh? Where's the wound?
It has already healed.
...
Hearing this, the three present fell into a brief silence. They stared at his hands, which were now clean of any visible injury despite the fresh red stains on the steel.
You're simply a monster! Come to think of it, this is the first time I've ever seen you bleed.
Nawaki spoke with emotion, a mix of awe and slight fear in his voice. I once heard people say that my grandfather was the strongest ninja in the world, and that his wounds could heal without even using hand seals. I thought people were just mythologizing him because of his achievements, but seeing Minato like this, that rumor... might actually be true.
This is just too exaggerated...
Mikoto stared at Minato's already healed fist, her face filled with wonder. She reached out to touch the skin, finding it as smooth as if the impact had never happened.
With this kind of healing speed, she even suspected that if Minato were stabbed in the heart, he could recover within $1$ second. The biological limit of human regeneration seemed to have been bypassed entirely.
Was our ancestor, Uchiha Madara, fighting against such an existence back then?
Ancestor really had it rough... fighting people who refused to stay injured must have been a nightmare.
So, your next training is to just smash this big iron ball? Nawaki asked, looking at the $4,000$ kilogram mass of metal.
Yeah, want to try? Minato invited, his voice polite as always, though his eyes remained indifferent to the pain he had just endured.
Nawaki shook his head incessantly: Forget it, I suddenly feel that dodging traps isn't actually that bad. I prefer my skin to stay attached to my bones.
Perhaps stimulated by Minato's training method, the three of them worked much harder in their subsequent cultivation. They didn't want to fall too far behind the boy who was literally reshaping steel with his bare hands.
Even if they were eliminated by a trap, they would engage in other forms of cultivation while waiting for the reset. Their progress accelerated under the pressure of Minato's silent example.
In the blink of an eye, a week passed quietly.
Minato was still smashing the steel ball, the dull thuds of fists colliding with refined steel echoing continuously through the valley. The sound had become a rhythmic part of the environment.
The surface of the steel ball was covered in dried blood stains, and a thin layer of calluses had grown over Minato's knuckles. These calluses weren't thick, but they protected his joints well, preventing him from getting injured again when punching with full force.
Clang—
Clang—
Clang—
A week had passed, and the steel ball didn't have a single scratch, though the rock wall behind it was beginning to crack from the repeated impacts transferred through the metal.
Minato's gaze remained calm, without a hint of discouragement. He was a machine of efficiency, uninterested in immediate gratification.
He knew in his heart that this kind of cultivation was a slow grind; results wouldn't be seen in just a few days. It was a matter of increasing his physical density and bone strength over time.
Just like the Eight Gates, only through persistent cultivation could one achieve the desired results. He was building a body that could withstand the $100\%$ output of his elemental powers.
Whoosh—
While Minato was punching away, a figure suddenly appeared nearby, disturbing the rhythm of his training.
The newcomer wore the standard Anbu breastplate and an animal mask on his face. He stood at the edge of the clearing, watching the young boy strike the massive orb.
His gaze beneath the mask glanced at the large steel ball behind Minato, a flash of shock appearing in his eyes as he saw the dents in the mountain wall.
Is this a human way of training? It looked more like a form of self-torture.
Genin Minato Namikaze, Hokage-sama summons you. Please proceed to the Hokage Office immediately.
I understand.
Minato nodded, his expression shifting back to his polite public mask. He left a wood clone behind to continue the training, and then, under the other's stunned gaze, used the Flying Thunder God to teleport directly to the courtyard of Tsunade's house.
Then, with a few body flickers, he appeared at the Hokage Office building, moving with a speed that left the Anbu operative far behind.
Hokage-sama.
Walking into the office, Minato nodded politely, standing with perfect posture before the leader of the village.
Ah, Minato.
Seeing Minato arrive at the Hokage Office, Hiruzen Sarutobi wasn't surprised by the boy's speed. He had grown accustomed to the youth's extraordinary talents.
He had already learned from Orochimaru that Minato had mastered the Flying Thunder God, which was why he had summoned him for this specific, high-priority task.
Seeing Minato still covered in dust from his training, Hiruzen Sarutobi smiled, though the smile didn't reach his tired eyes. Sorry to interrupt your cultivation.
Not at all, you're too kind. It is my duty to serve the village.
Minato asked: Is there a mission you wish to assign to me?
Yes...
Hiruzen Sarutobi nodded, his expression turning slightly heavy as he picked up a mission scroll from his desk.
It's like this. News has come from the front lines that Hanzou, the leader of Amegakure, has personally intervened in the conflict between Konoha and Sunagakure. He is very powerful, especially skilled in using poison, and many ninjas have already suffered at his hands.
The current situation within the Land of Rain is very chaotic, and it's difficult for us to receive reports from the front lines in a timely manner. The rain interferes with our traditional signaling methods.
Your Flying Thunder God Technique has an irreplaceable advantage in intelligence transmission and emergency support. I want you to lead a team to a front-line outpost on the border of the Land of Rain to stand by and transmit intelligence between the village and the front lines as quickly as possible.
Can I go by myself? Minato asked. He preferred to move without the burden of teammates who might witness his more ruthless methods.
No.
Hiruzen Sarutobi said bluntly, leaving no room for argument. Setting aside the importance of Wood Release to the village, to prevent accidents and the possibility of intelligence leaks, intelligence missions are never allowed to be executed solo, unless the situation is exceptionally dire.
Even if you have the Flying Thunder God, there's no guarantee that accidents won't happen on the battlefield. You are a precious asset, Minato.
I understand.
Minato nodded, knowing that without exposing his true elementalization, it would be impossible to perform missions alone. The village leadership viewed him as a genius, but still a human one.
Moreover, even if Nawaki and the others were left in the village, they would most likely be assigned other missions anyway. It was better to keep them under his own supervision.
Furthermore...
Hiruzen Sarutobi paused, his tone becoming serious, the air in the room growing cold. Minato, I know you are very strong, perhaps even surpassing many Jonin. But the battlefield and sparring are two completely different things.
On the battlefield, you never know what will happen the next second—poison, traps, ambushes, sieges... any slight oversight can be fatal. Especially when facing an enemy like Hanzou, he will never give you a chance for a fair duel. He is a man who thrives on the misery of his enemies.
Minato nodded seriously: Understood, I will be careful. He kept his thoughts to himself; Hanzou was merely another target for his light-speed strikes if the need arose.
Looking at Minato's calm and steady eyes, Hiruzen Sarutobi felt a bit more at ease. He didn't see the usual bravado of a young ninja, but a chilling level of composure.
He had also been observing Minato for some time; this child always brought a peculiar sense of security that was rare even among veterans.
Despite being only $8$ years old, he was more reliable than many adult ninjas who had spent decades in service.
Right, as for Kushina...
I understand, Hokage-sama.
Without needing the Third to continue, Minato understood his meaning perfectly. He wouldn't let the village's most valuable containment vessel walk into a war zone. Just let her stay in the village. I wouldn't feel comfortable with her on the battlefield either.
Nawaki had at least graduated from the Ninja Academy and had been training for this, but Kushina was a genuine $8$ year old girl who had yet to master her burden.
Konoha's current situation hadn't yet deteriorated to the level of the Third War where they were forced to send children into the meat grinder.
Hearing this, a flash of approval appeared in Hiruzen Sarutobi's eyes: Very good. You have a good head on your shoulders. Are there any other questions?
Doesn't Sensei need to head to the front lines?
Minato asked: Since Hanzou uses poison, the front lines must be in dire need of medical ninjas, right?
Currently, Tsunade is intensifying her research on an antidote for the Salamander's Deadly Poison. The conditions at the front lines aren't as good as in the village for high-level research.
Hiruzen Sarutobi shook his head: Moreover, a full-scale war hasn't broken out yet. The forces at the front are limited, and the medical ninja units cannot be deployed outward in large numbers yet.
In this period, the medical ninja system wasn't as complete as it would be in the late stage. Medical ninjas were quite precious resources, and someone like Tsunade, the head of the medical ninjas, couldn't be easily deployed until the situation was critical.
Then I have no more questions.
Minato nodded and took the scroll handed over by Hiruzen Sarutobi. It contained the coordinates of the outpost and the codes for intelligence transmission.
This was for the best; Kushina would have someone to look after her in the village while he was away, ensuring her safety and his own interests.
If there's nothing else, I'll take my leave.
Mm.
As soon as he spoke, Minato's figure vanished instantly, leaving only a slight swirl of air in the office.
Seeing this, a hint of nostalgia flashed in Hiruzen Sarutobi's eyes as he looked at the empty space.
The Flying Thunder God... it was like seeing Sensei's shadow again.
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