"I'm just a regular chunin," Aaron replied instinctively.
Maybe it was because the power boost had come too suddenly, or maybe it was just habit, but his first reflex was still to keep his head down.
Back at the Academy, he had carefully kept every grade hovering right at average. Too good and you stand out. Too bad and you stand out. Blend in, and no one looks twice.
He'd carried that philosophy into his career. For four straight years, he declined recommendations to take the chunin exams, claiming he wasn't ready. Then he "failed" three times before finally earning promotion.
In most people's eyes, Aaron was the definition of ordinary, a handsome face, modest skills, nothing special.
Minato smiled and shook his head.
"Your rank might say chunin, but I know better. If you're 'ordinary,' then how many truly strong shinobi are there in this world?"
Minato didn't know Aaron's full strength. No one did. Aaron hid it too well, even from him.
But even the ability he had revealed was easily high-jonin tier. Factor in his constant restraint, and Minato suspected the truth might be much higher.
No one understood Aaron better than Minato. At least, that's what he believed.
Watching Minato's confident expression, Aaron scratched his head. Did I overdo the whole "playing dumb" thing? Has he built up some imaginary genius version of me?
Ironically, Minato wasn't entirely wrong.
With the Whitebeard template bound to him, Aaron was now undeniably among the elite of the shinobi world.
He lowered his gaze and weighed the pros and cons of joining ANBU.
He'd hidden his strength out of self-preservation. Chunin and jonin didn't receive the same missions, higher rank meant deadlier assignments. And drawing attention in a world full of manipulators and schemers was never wise.
But things had changed.
His fate was now tied to Konoha's. If the village suffered, so would he.
And with Whitebeard's power backing him, he finally had the strength to step onto the board instead of hiding under it.
Maybe it was time to play offense.
"Alright," Aaron said at last. "I'll do it. I'll give it my best shot, but I can't promise I'll meet your expectations."
Minato grinned. "I know. After all, you're just a 'regular chunin.'"
The teasing was light, but his eyes were serious.
"I'll send for you in three days to go over the details. The transition of authority isn't fully complete yet."
Aaron nodded and left the Hokage's office.
The rest of the afternoon clearly belonged to Minato and Kushina. He'd already walked into enough newlywed energy for one day.
Instead of heading home, Aaron made his way to a secluded stretch of forest at the edge of Konoha.
Sunlight filtered through thick green leaves, scattering soft emerald-tinted beams across the forest floor. It was quite peaceful.
This was his training ground.
Back when he needed to hide his strength, he avoided the official training fields. Too many eyes. Instead, he carved out this private clearing.
He had even learned basic sealing techniques from Kushina to set up a simple trigger seal. If anyone disturbed the area, the disruption in chakra flow would alert him. If it was compromised, he'd simply relocate. He kept no research notes here, only worn training posts and shattered stone.
Wooden targets stood scattered around, along with several large boulders. When practicing high-impact techniques like the Rasengan, wood wouldn't cut it.
He stopped in front of a massive stone slab nearly five meters tall.
This time, he didn't weave signs. He didn't mold chakra.
He raised his fist and activated Armament Haki.
A dense black sheen coated his arm, hardening it like tempered steel.
He punched.
BOOM.
The boulder exploded on impact. Shards flew in every direction as dust billowed into the air.
Aaron smiled.
He hadn't even used half his strength.
If that punch landed on a typical jonin, it would be instant death.
"And that's without chakra reinforcement…"
With chakra-enhanced movement layered on top? He almost wanted to spar in pure taijutsu with Fourth Raikage just to test the limits.
And that was only at forty percent fusion.
If one punch could already rewrite the battlefield, what would one hundred percent look like?
He pushed the thought aside and activated Observation Haki, sweeping the area for witnesses.
What he planned next wasn't subtle.
Whitebeard's physical prowess and Haki were formidable, but his true devastation came from the Tremor-Tremor power. The ability to generate quakes capable of reshaping terrain itself.
In this world, at least, he didn't have to worry about ocean-based weaknesses or exotic countermeasures. One less drawback to consider.
He drew on the tremor energy.
A white, spherical distortion formed around his fist, warping the air itself.
He struck the ground.
CRACK.
The atmosphere fractured like shattered glass, jagged fissures rippling outward.
Then the earth answered.
The ground split apart in violent waves. Massive slabs of soil tore free as thunderous rumbles echoed through the forest. Dust and debris erupted skyward.
The instant his fist connected, Aaron used the Body Flicker Technique and vanished.
Even that had been restrained.
The Tremor power was too destructive. If he ever fought seriously inside the village, the enemy might survive but the infrastructure wouldn't.
Minutes later, two ANBU operatives wearing animal masks arrived at the devastated clearing.
One crouched, scanning the area.
"No residual chakra," he muttered. "A natural collapse? Doesn't look like one."
The other sifted through rubble and lifted a splintered fragment of wood.
"There are remains of training posts. This might've been an abandoned practice field."
The tension between them eased slightly.
If it was a training accident, espionage was unlikely. No spy would cause destruction like this for no reason.
Still, caution ruled the day.
After signing a peace treaty with the Land of Earth, the shinobi world was anything but stable. Political undercurrents churned beneath the surface.
They searched thoroughly before finally withdrawing uneasy, but without answers.
-------