Chapter 8: Chapter 8: The Secret Art of Survival
Soon, the four of them had sprinted three kilometers, arriving at a river no more than ten meters wide behind the Aoba defense zone. Without slowing down, they distributed chakra to their feet and dashed across the water's surface.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Layers of splashes erupted as they swiftly crossed the river.
But once on the other side, they didn't press forward.
"Shukudou, you really need to lose weight."
Umino Yoru stopped and turned to check on his three subordinates' water-walking performance. Inuzuka Ryou and Koshou had done well—but Shukudou, with his massive frame and excessive load of weapons, wobbled slightly as he struggled to maintain balance.
"Shukudou, stop obsessing over your 'weapon girlfriends' all day. You can't neglect chakra control. Keep this up, and I'll put you on a diet."
Though his tone was stern, a flicker of pride warmed Yoru's chest.
Back when he'd first taken them in, only Ryou—being clan-born—had any experience with basic tree-walking. His chakra control was barely passable.
Shukudou and Koshou? Complete amateurs. They couldn't even climb a tree with chakra, let alone walk on water. Textbook civilian shinobi—bottom-tier cannon fodder.
But now? The difference was night and day.
His harsh training had paid off.
The battlefield was unpredictable. Tree-walking and water-walking weren't just exercises—they were essential survival skills. And since they also sharpened chakra control, he'd drilled them relentlessly.
"Strict teachers breed strong students."
Now, all three had chakra control rivaling most Chunin.
Koshou, in particular, had excelled. Maybe it was her attention to detail, or perhaps a hidden talent—but her control was the best of the three. Under his guidance, she'd even attempted waterfall training. Though she hadn't succeeded yet, she had the foundation to become a medic-nin.
A few more missions, enough points to exchange for medical ninjutsu, and unlocking her Yang Release potential? She'd make a fine medic.
As for Ryou—clan kids always had a leg up. With extra training, his control wasn't at Koshou's level, but water-walking was child's play for him now.
Shukudou, though…
He'd technically mastered water-walking—even dabbled in waterfall training—and his control was on par with Ryou's.
But the guy was obsessed with food. Eating like a sumo wrestler in training, packing on weight by the day, and lugging around his "weapon harem"? The fact that he'd crossed the river without drowning was a miracle.
**"Captain, you always say, 'Master one art instead of dabbling in a thousand.' My chakra control's good enough—weapon mastery is my true calling!"**
Shukudou paused, lovingly stroking the blades strapped to his body, eyes glazed with devotion.
"Then quit yapping and set the damn traps! You wanna get us killed?"
Yoru shuddered in disgust before delivering a sharp kick to Shukudou's meaty backside.
"Yes, sir! Right away, my beloved Captain!"
With an obnoxiously cheerful salute, Shukudou scrambled to work.
As traps were laid, Yoru turned to Ryou and Koshou—the two greenhorns—and began imparting hard-earned battlefield wisdom.
"Most Sand shinobi have Wind or Earth natures. Water users are rare—they barely have any decent Water Release specialists."
He pointed back at the river.
"This might not look like much, but it's a natural barrier against Sand-nin."
Unlike fertile Fire Country, Wind Country was mostly desert and scattered oases. Sand shinobi relied on Wind and Earth techniques—or puppets. Water was their weakness.
Open terrain favored Sand. But rivers? A death sentence for them.
"Captain, then why cross to this side? Wouldn't it be better to ambush them mid-river?"
For once, a glimmer of intelligence shone in Ryou's dopey eyes.
Clan education did have its merits—his question cut straight to the tactical core.
Meanwhile, Koshou just blinked, utterly lost.
Proof that clan advantages weren't just about jutsu—they seeped into everything.
Still, Ryou's wisdom only went so far.
Flick!
Yoru thumped him on the forehead.
"Dumbass. Think before you ask."
He gestured to Shukudou, now weaving traps through the trees.
"What's he doing right now? What's our primary objective? What's secondary?"
Ryou rubbed his throbbing forehead, gears visibly turning in his head.
Koshou, however, blurted out the obvious:
"First, set traps to wipe out the Sand puppet squad. Second, delay them until backup arrives!"
Yoru nodded approvingly before turning back to Ryou with a look of sheer disappointment.
"Ryou, even Koshou gets it. You're supposed to be Inuzuka's genius? Pathetic. You've got a long way to go."
And just like that, Yoru unleashed his PUA no Jutsu—a relentless barrage of psychological conditioning.
But the real strategy wasn't about stopping Sand-nin from breaking through.
It was about buying time to flee if the traps failed.
The river wasn't a defensive line—it was an escape route.
"Plan for defeat before victory."
Always secure a retreat. That was the essence of survival.
After all—anything could go wrong.
And it always did.