That charred tree stump was the only "eye of the storm" within the lightning net.
"Th-This… what kind of ninjutsu is this?!"
"Kakashi absolutely doesn't have this level of chakra! The power to annihilate an entire forest in an instant—this isn't something a human can achieve!"
Anko's entire worldview shattered. A jutsu of this level—forget jōnin—even a Kage-class powerhouse would be killed on the spot if struck by it.
And yet, Akira—the one who unleashed this monstrosity—hadn't even formed a single hand seal.
Standing atop a high point, Akira flicked the blood from his hand, his brows slightly furrowed in dissatisfaction. "What a pity. Still didn't manage to finish him off completely. That guy has way too many tricks for preserving his life."
Several kilometers away—
A small white snake burrowed out from the soil. It was Orochimaru's backup method of resurrection through the Cursed Seal.
At this moment, he was extremely weak. Gazing in Akira's direction, he panted with lingering fear.
"That monster… just how did he train? That Lightning Style… it's practically a natural disaster…"
"And that speed, surpassing the limits of human reaction… too dangerous. It seems the plan must be reassessed."
Although he hadn't died completely, this body was effectively ruined. Even his soul had suffered heavy damage. For the time being, he wouldn't dare show himself again.
---
At the edge of the crater—
Anko carefully approached Akira. Seeing his gloomy expression, she asked cautiously, "Y-You're… alright?"
Akira let out a sigh. "He got away. That's troublesome."
Anko swallowed and patted his shoulder in consolation. "Don't blame yourself. That's Orochimaru. Surviving under one of the Sannin is already a miracle—let alone you…"
At this point, her expression turned complicated.
What "surviving"? This was practically a near solo-kill on Orochimaru!
Before, when she'd heard Akira had jōnin-level strength, she'd only half believed it. Now it was clear—this wasn't jōnin. This was unmistakably Kage-level.
A twelve-year-old Kage-level powerhouse?
If word got out, the entire shinobi world would be shaken.
Akira turned around, looking down at Anko from above. His gaze became unusually serious.
He was thinking about how to seal this woman's mouth.
Just now, when Orochimaru tried to the Cursed Seal on him, it triggered him to instinctively unleash his ultimate move—Lightning Net. Now his true strength was completely exposed.
If Konoha's higher-ups found out he had Kage-level power, how was he supposed to slack off in the future?
"Listen carefully. I don't want a third person to know anything that happened today."
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an unquestionable pressure.
Anko was forced back half a step by that aura. Gritting her teeth, she asked, "Why? Having this kind of strength is an honor! The village would definitely prioritize nurturing you!"
Akira cut her off coldly. "Some people like standing under the spotlight. Others prefer hiding in the shadows. I hate trouble, so—keep your mouth shut. That includes the Third Hokage. No one is to know."
"You were Orochimaru's disciple. You should know better than anyone how many flies and conspiracies this kind of power attracts once exposed."
Anko froze.
Facing those deep, unfathomable eyes, she felt the same suffocating pressure she used to feel in front of her teacher.
"F-Fine… But you have to tell me—have you already reached Kage level? And how did you know I was Orochimaru's disciple?"
"For your first question—you're right. As for the second, I could tell from the way you fought." Akira answered casually.
Anko's face flushed red. So he had watched her entire fight…
"Since you saved my life, I'll keep this secret for you," she said through gritted teeth.
"You'd better keep your word, Special Jōnin. Don't go back on it."
"Hey! Special Jōnin are still jōnin, alright?!" Anko retorted indignantly, trying to salvage some dignity.
Akira ignored her outburst and glanced at the sky. "The ANBU should be arriving soon. You know how to explain this, right?"
Anko nodded. "We'll say this crater was caused by you using a powerful Fire Style."
"And don't forget to say I used Chidori," Akira added. "Dragon Flame Bomb combined with Chidori triggered a chain explosion—that's enough to explain this level of destruction. And absolutely don't mention me beating down Orochimaru. Just say he wasn't trying to kill us and things got out of hand."
Anko rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I'm not an idiot—you don't need to walk me through it step by step."
Despite her complaints, she felt an inexplicable sense of awe toward this twelve-year-old boy.
Only now did she realize Akira was actually quite interesting—his mature tone clashed sharply with his youthful face, creating a strange but charming contrast.
"So what now? Waiting here for the ANBU?" Anko plopped down beside him, looking somewhat amused. "Out here in the middle of nowhere, your teammates ditched you, huh?"
Akira glanced at her and smiled faintly. "You really hold grudges, don't you? Doesn't matter. I'll just wait here."
With that, he sat cross-legged on the tree trunk and closed his eyes to rest.
Anko looked at his profile and couldn't resist poking his shoulder. "Hey, how exactly do you train? The Fourth Hokage's Flying Raijin is famously difficult—no one's ever mastered it except him."
"You talk too much." Akira shrugged her hand off in annoyance.
Instead of getting angry, Anko leaned closer with a grin. "Oh come on, don't be so stiff at your age. Tell your big sister, will you?"
"That's called a hobby. It's not something someone like you—who doesn't focus on proper work—would understand. If you spent even half your time training, you wouldn't still be just a Special Jōnin."
Eyes closed, Akira delivered a precise, venomous jab.
Anko's lips twitched. This brat—his tongue was vicious!
Just from the scorched traces left by her Fierce Dragon Flame Jutsu, it was obvious she had a natural talent for fire-based ninjutsu.
Unfortunately, not only did she fail to devote herself fully to training, but the cursed seal on her neck acted like a lock, severely limiting her upper potential.
The experimental seal Orochimaru left on her back then was far too crude. Aside from occasionally flaring up and causing piercing pain, it provided no real combat enhancement.
It was completely different from the one on Sasuke's neck—she couldn't even enter a "Level Two" state to fight.
Sasuke's pain came from his body initially rejecting the power, unable to fully control it.
But Anko's half-finished version was nothing more than a negative debuff that dragged her down.
At that thought, Akira's gaze shifted like a scanner, locking precisely onto Anko's pale neck.
Because his stare was so focused and utterly unrestrained, Anko—who was wiping her sweat—immediately misunderstood where he was looking.
Her cheeks flushed instantly, and she tugged at her collar as she snapped, "You little brat, where are you looking?!"
"Not even fully grown yet, and your thoughts are already so impure!"
Akira frowned slightly, instantly realizing her misunderstanding. He spread his hands helplessly.
"Don't flatter yourself. I'm just studying the structural pattern of the technique Orochimaru left on you. Though your figure is pretty hot, I have no interest in chewing on 'old grass' that's a whole round older than me."
Hearing that, the veins on Anko's forehead nearly popped. "Are you calling me old?!"
Akira curled his lips into a smug grin. "Just stating facts. You're only a tiny bit older than me. Among normal people, you'd still count as young."
Of course, Anko didn't actually harbor any inappropriate thoughts toward this brat. As a twenty-four-year-old mature woman, how could she possibly be attracted to a kid?
Her earlier blush was purely because Akira's gaze felt like it could see through everything—this kid was absurdly strong.
Even knowing she had overthought things, she still felt a bit embarrassed and puffed up in irritation, refusing to speak.
To prevent her from getting so embarrassed that she might expose him out of spite, Akira decided to give her a way out.
"Actually, I was just curious how that cursed seal interferes with your chakra flow. I think the reason you can't fully utilize your strength is entirely because of that thing."
Sure enough, even female ninja liked hearing agreeable words. Anko instantly forgot her embarrassment, her eyes widening in surprise.
"…You even know about the side effects of the Cursed Seal? Is Kakashi really that much of a blabbermouth?"
The secret on her neck wasn't exactly news among Konoha's higher-ups. Back when Kakashi had served as an ANBU captain, he had personally been responsible for supervising and maintaining her seal.
That was before Tsunade-hime had even left the village.
Akira leaned against the tree trunk and casually made something up. "He mentioned it a couple of times. But from what I can tell, this thing is probably a defective product Orochimaru created while researching some kind of power system."
The light in Anko's eyes dimmed. After a long silence, she let out a sigh.
"You've got a sharp eye. That's right—this was a half-finished product Orochimaru made back then to try to control natural energy."
"Unfortunately, the jutsu wasn't mature, and the risks were too high. Even he didn't dare use it freely."
Akira added the final blow, "So you became the lab rat."
Anko shot him an annoyed glare. This time, Akira merely shrugged and didn't continue provoking her.
After the atmosphere eased slightly, Akira lowered his voice and dropped a bombshell:
"Actually, this Cursed Seal isn't just for training. There's also a fragment of Orochimaru's soul hidden inside it. It's basically a spare 'revive token' he left for himself."
Anko's brows furrowed tightly. This kind of deep-level soul-based forbidden technique was clearly beyond her understanding.
"Reviving through the Cursed Seal? That's impossible."
Akira pointed to his eyes. "I'm a sensory-type ninja. In my perception, the cold chakra emanating from your seal has the same origin as Orochimaru's."
"It's hidden very deeply—ordinary people wouldn't notice it at all—but it's definitely there."
"To put it bluntly, you're just his backup vessel. If his main body dies, he can crawl out using your body at any time."
Hearing this, Anko felt a chill shoot from the soles of her feet straight to her scalp. She shuddered involuntarily.
"Can you not make it sound so horrifying? It's nauseating to listen to."
Akira spread his hands innocently. "Can't help it. The truth is just that disgusting. Orochimaru himself is a complete freak. I saw everything clearly during the fight earlier—honestly, it was more grotesque than a horror movie."
In reality, Akira had teleported over from several kilometers away, but to keep his story consistent, he had to pretend he'd witnessed the whole thing.
That said, Orochimaru's fighting style really was slimy—calling it disgusting wasn't unfair at all.
Anko curled her lips. As his former disciple, she was somewhat used to it. "It's not as exaggerated as you're making it sound, is it?"
Akira mentally pictured Orochimaru vomiting out another version of himself, and his stomach churned. "To be honest, you're not exactly easy on the eyes either."
The moment those words left his mouth, the air froze.
Anko exploded instantly, her fists cracking loudly. "Akira! Are you asking for death? You dare call me disgusting?!"
Looking at her, Akira couldn't get the image of her fighting with snakes and her tongue out of his head. While it was better than Orochimaru's mucus-like style, it still fell squarely into the category of things normal humans struggled to accept.
He gave a bitter smile and leaned back slightly. "I was trying to compliment you, but when I think about those snake-based techniques of yours… my body just can't handle it."
Now it was Anko's turn to feel awkward. Everything she knew had been taught to her personally by Orochimaru—of course her style would resemble his.
Back in the village, no one had ever dared to criticize her like this to her face. Now that Akira had bluntly pointed it out, even she started to feel uncertain.
But losing face wasn't an option. She planted her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Are you even a ninja? People in our line of work mess with bugs and corpses all the time. What's so strange about that?"
Akira waved his hand with a look of disdain. "Don't lump me together with those weirdos. Most ninja are perfectly clean and refined, alright? Especially me—I'm basically a breath of fresh air in the ninja world."
Looking at Anko's devilishly attractive figure, Akira felt somewhat conflicted.
Objectively speaking, her physique ranked among the best in Konoha—around 167 centimeters tall, with curves even more pronounced than Yugao's.
But the moment he imagined snakes possibly lurking inside her body, he instinctively wanted to stay ten meters away.
Anko sharply caught the subtle half-step Akira took backward, her brows shooting up. "Was that half-step back just now for real?"
Akira pretended to admire the scenery. "Nothing. My leg went numb—just stretching."
Anko laughed in exasperation. Her eyes rolled, and suddenly she got the urge to tease him.
"Looks like you really hate snakes. What, you think they're slimy and scary?"
The moment her words fell, her originally fair arm transformed into several vividly colored venomous snakes, their jaws wide open as they lunged toward Akira.
Akira tilted his head. There was no fear on his face—only deep disgust. A perfectly fine pair of delicate hands turning into reptiles—it was a bit too visually intense.
Seeing him freeze in place, Anko thought she'd succeeded and smirked. "Seriously? With your strength, you're scared of these little cuties?"
The next second, a blinding blue-white spark burst from Akira's fingertips.
"Crackle—!"
The snarling snakes instantly turned into smoking charred remains, and the air filled with the smell of burnt meat.
Akira's chakra control was exquisitely precise—the current cooked the snakes perfectly without harming even a single hair on Anko's head.
He dusted off his hands, his tone as casual as if he had just swatted a mosquito. "I'm not afraid of snakes. I just don't like them."
Anko stared at the blackened pile of snake corpses on the ground, her face twitching in pain. "Hey! Those were my summoned creatures! Don't you think that was a bit harsh?"
She had gone through great effort to contract those snakes from Ryūchi Cave. They might not have been top-tier, but they were still her combat partners.
Due to limitations in her chakra reserves and talent, she couldn't summon monsters on the level of Manda. She could only use mid-to-low-tier jutsus like Striking Shadow Snake.
And in Akira's eyes, aside from being disgusting, those jutsu didn't have much real combat value.
Anko shook the ash off her hand and comforted herself. "Looks like you really are allergic to snakes. Honestly, you get used to it. And with how often I deal with venomous snakes, even the medical corps envies my resistance to toxins."
That wasn't untrue. Although Anko's raw strength only placed her at Special Jōnin level, her survivability was extremely high—her endurance and poison resistance were top-tier.
In long-term infiltration missions, that often mattered more than pure combat strength.
Perhaps it was a special benefit from her contract with Ryūchi Cave—her physical constitution was indeed beyond ordinary.
Akira didn't bother responding. It wasn't that he had anything against Anko personally—he was just psychologically scarred by Orochimaru's "human-centipede"-style antics.
Just thinking about those summoned snakes possibly being covered in Orochimaru's saliva made his skin crawl.
In truth, with his strength, obtaining a summoning contract would be effortless. The three great sacred lands would probably compete to have him.
But he simply wasn't interested.
His combat power had long since exceeded normal limits. If he activated Sage Mode, he could probably pin Jiraiya to the ground and beat him senseless. For him, summoned beasts were just a burden.
Still, to change the subject, Akira casually asked, "Your summoning contract is with Ryūchi Cave, right?"
Anko nodded, a hint of nostalgia in her eyes. "Yeah. Orochimaru took me there back before he defected. If he hadn't been there to back me up, I would've been eaten as a snack by those snakes on my first day."
Akira smiled. "I've heard the sacred lands have those mountain-sized old monsters. How come you only summon little snakes to play with?"
Anko froze for a moment. Seeing the teasing smile on Akira's face, she immediately realized he was mocking her low chakra reserves.
"Hmph! So what if I don't have enough chakra! Besides, those giant snakes in Ryūchi Cave have terrible tempers. You need offerings to summon them—they're basically like inviting a lord to serve."
Akira chuckled. "Work a bit harder. Maybe one day you'll summon Manda."
Anko shook her head dejectedly. "Forget it. I'm already this age—my potential's been squeezed dry. This is as far as I go."
Akira said nothing more and closed his eyes again, leaning against the tree to rest.
Anko tilted her head, watching the now-quiet boy. Sunlight filtered through the leaves and fell across his face, giving him a calm, almost serene appearance.
She smiled lightly. "No wonder you're so strong. You're training anytime, anywhere. With talent like yours and this kind of effort… how are the rest of us supposed to live?"
Akira didn't even open his eyes. "Nothing better to do anyway. Speaking of which, are those ANBU guys snails or something?"
"You said ten minutes—it's been almost twenty."
Anko scratched her head awkwardly. "Maybe there was traffic on the way… Actually, I could just report this myself when I get back. You don't really have to wait here."
As she spoke, a sly smile appeared on her face—clearly scheming something.
Akira opened his eyes and glanced at her, but didn't get angry. "Forget it. Sasuke and the others haven't reached the central tower yet. If I act alone, this exam would be way too easy."