The Genjutsu Devil of Konoha

Finally, it was time for the final fight: Nawaki vs. Seijuro—and to be fair, shit felt like Nawaki was hard carried to his way there.

Seijuro didn't mind. Nawaki was pretty strong, even if he was handed Seijuro's bracket. He had more than a 50% chance of making it all the way through, so by no means was he weak.

Plus, with his ridiculous amount of chakra? Yeah, he'd be fine.

The strategy to beat this guy was to play it smart.

A drawn-out battle wouldn't do you any good. This guy had a lot of chakra. Seijuro could sense the chakra of everyone in the crowd right now, so in order from highest to lowest:

At the top was this old lady sitting above Hiruzen—her chakra dwarfed his by a long shot. Then, there was the Third Hokage. Understandable. Then Tsunade—yeah, she was a Senju-Uzumaki hybrid, he got it. That snake dude. Jiraiya. Yeah, makes sense.

Nawaki was somewhere there too. Yes, his chakra was that much. The Uchiha clan patriarch, the Hyūga clan patriarch, some random guy with evil intentions dripping from his body...

Somewhere near the bottom, his clan head was there. Man truly was sorry compared to everyone else.

Well, no bother. Seijuro himself had a decent amount of chakra—somewhere near Chūnin level, but on the higher end. He hadn't entered the Jōnin tier yet, but he was sure by the end of either his first year as a shinobi or his fourth year as an Academy student, he would make it.

Really depends on which comes first.

Walking toward the arena, Nawaki noticed one thing.

Seijuro was lacking something.

No sword.

The murmurs began immediately.

"Where's his blade?"

"Doesn't he need that for his Genjutsu?"

Nawaki blinked as he stepped into his own starting position, brows furrowed. "Did you forget your sword?"

"I chose not to bring it," Seijuro replied politely.

"But... isn't that the entire way you do your weird Genjutsu sword-flick illusion-whatever?" the boy asked. Oh, so Seijuro's trick did work. How fun.

Tricking a kid was fun. He wanted to implant this idea in their minds—that the sword was kind of necessary, when it wasn't. He could cast illusions without it.

As to why he would do that?

Let's say his info got leaked to the enemy. They would always watch for his sword, laser-focused on it. So he could cast an illusion quite easily.

Wasn't he just the best? Being this scheming and tricky felt natural to him for some odd reason, as if he had spent hundreds of years perfecting his craft.

"It does help with synchronization. Most of my opponents until now were either incredibly perceptive... or possessed a dōjutsu. Naturally, misdirection became essential." His point was quite clear.

A beat passed.

"You don't fall into either category."

There was a pause. Nawaki blinked. His face twitched. "Hey! What the hell's that supposed to mean?! Are you saying I'm dumb?!"

"I am not saying anything... but if the shoe fits."

...

...

...

"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

Poof!

Fifteen Nawakis exploded across the field. Nawaki was not about to get humiliated like this. He was ready to box.

"Hajime!"

Hm.

"Fifteen, hm? You're making this a bit too easy," Seijuro said calmly.

Nawaki didn't know why, but he felt like Seijuro was warning him about something—he just didn't know what yet. And thus, unaware of the trap he was running into...

Nawaki sent his clones at Seijuro.

The first wave of Nawaki clones closed in like a brawler mob.

Whap—! Seijuro ducked under a flying kick.

Thwack! A sharp elbow folded into a clone's gut. Poof!

He rolled beneath two charging clones, then flipped between a high kick and a diving punch, his frame weaving like flowing silk.

While in the air, he slammed his feet into a clone's head. And while making contact with the back of its skull, he used it to gather enough speed to—

Shunshin away.

Nawaki created more clones as thirty of his shadow clones charged in from all directions, looking to overwhelm Seijuro through sheer numbers. The clones were enthusiastic, aggressive, and... wildly uncoordinated. It was the classic "flood the enemy" tactic.

But Seijuro?

He weaved between them like he was some sort of ghost. He was graceful yet surgical, and every movement felt calculated—he dodged punches by a hair's breadth, countered with minimal motion, and dismantled the formation with quiet efficiency. One well-placed kick took out a clone mid-air. Another got swept away with a slick sidestep into a knee strike.

Seijuro was like a beast that had been unleashed.

One clone went flying from a palm thrust to the chin. Another exploded mid-punch as Seijuro spun into a crescent kick. Two more charged him together? He flowed through them, striking with such precision they vanished before their feet hit the ground again.

Whump! —another poofed out of existence after a vicious heel kick.

From the air, Seijuro created two Shadow Clones with a snap, launching them downward like guided missiles. They crashed into the clone ranks like twin hurricanes, delivering brutal and calculated strikes. Clones evaporated in rapid succession.

"Tch—! Enough of that!"

From the backlines, the original Nawaki weaved hand signs rapidly. He had learned this super-duper jutsu for this.

"Dragon → Tiger → Hare!"

"Water Release: Wild Water Wave!"

A roaring torrent burst from Nawaki's mouth in a sweeping arc, cascading toward Seijuro and his clones like a crashing waterfall.

If Seijuro remembered correctly, this was a C-rank jutsu.

Going through hand seals very quickly—

"Earth Release: Earth Wall!"

After finishing the hand seals, he slammed his hand on the floor, causing a wall of earth to begin forming.

"Too slow."

But the water had been overloaded with that special Senju juice.

The wall seemed to crumble under the might of Nawaki's overwhelming chakra.

The crowd gasped as Seijuro's silhouette blurred behind the splash.

Steam rose from the impact site. A wet figure stood at the center of a shallow pool, drenched and seemingly stunned.

Nawaki grinned, breathing hard. "Gotcha...! You've got no clones left. I still have one. I win, Seijuro!"

The lone clone behind Nawaki turned to face him.

And smirked.

Nawaki's eyes widened in horror.

"...Wait—?"

Shiiing—

A kunai pressed softly against his throat from behind.

The clone behind him shimmered and vanished in a puff of smoke.

There stood Seijuro, completely unharmed, barely damp.

"...Wha—how?!"

"Transformation Jutsu."

"When?" Seijuro simply smiled, watching as Nawaki stood frozen, his hands twitching.

"Wha... But—how'd you even time that?!"

"You are quite easy to trick."

Nawaki looked annoyed.

"I didn't even get time to showcase my strength."

"You told me to give it my all. So I treated you the same as an enemy would—they would never let you reach 100%. A word of advice: always look around. We wouldn't want you dying to an explosive tag..."

...

The match was over. The referee raised his hand.

"Winner: Seijuro Kurama!"

Applause erupted, though some were still murmuring in disbelief. The strategy, the control, the subtlety—

In the Stands:

Jiraiya blinked. Yo, the hell? Was this kid really like 9? The hell did I just see? He felt like he was watching the ANBU operate or some shit.

Tsunade, meanwhile, looked at the boy. Hm. Yeah, she could 100% see why Nawaki was trying so hard. On one hand, her brother lost, so her present was kinda useless. On the other? He lost, so as the big sister she was, it was her job to make it his problem.

Meanwhile with the child toucher... Oro—no, the other one.

Danzō's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. Merely took note.

Orochimaru tilted his head with a chilling smile. "Interesting. A predator in silk."

The Hokage's gaze swept over the crowd, then back to Seijuro.

This boy was probably going to apply for early graduation—that was for sure. Hm, the war should be starting back up soon...