Born To Rise In Konoha

The air fell silent. Hyūga Tokuma looked around in confusion.

All the students were stunned by Uchiha Saitama's last throw. Even the instructor looked visibly surprised.

Just when Tokuma was preparing to hit the three closest moving targets, Saitama had thrown his third set of shuriken.

But unlike before, this time he didn't release them all at once. He threw them one after another—split-second intervals—precisely timed.

That alone wasn't extraordinary.

But the remarkable part was that Saitama's shuriken collided mid-air in succession, adjusting their trajectory through carefully planned interference, before all hitting their respective targets at the same moment.

Two of them struck moving targets at fifteen meters. The last one hit the moving target at twenty meters—a distance most Academy students couldn't even consistently aim at, let alone hit a moving bullseye.

Tokuma's hands, still holding his shuriken, slowly lowered. His grip tightened in frustration.

He now understood what Uchiha Saitama had meant earlier: "Don't cry later."

Humiliation settled deep in Tokuma's chest.

Saitama didn't spare him a glance. He simply turned and walked off.