Excerpts from ANBU Root operatives' report:
...Today (May 25th) marked the tenth covert attempt to eliminate Subject "Bald." Another failure...
Note that the previous nine attempts went completely unnoticed by the subject (or he pretended not to notice). We deployed potent paralytic poisons, sedatives, classified Root-developed substances, and modified lethal toxins from Suna—administered either through food contamination or via concealed senbon traps throughout Konoha, including his private residence...
"Bald" triggered every trap, yet none produced the desired effect...
...Observations confirm that despite his harmless and simple-minded appearance, the target is a shinobi of Kage-level proficiency. During sparring with Mitarashi Anko, he demonstrated speed comparable to the legendary Yondaime Hokage. This alone warrants an SS-rank classification. Physical limits remain unknown...
Further covert assassination or sedation attempts for underground containment are now questionable, as no Root ANBU operative has proven capable of completing this mission.
Consideration should be given to outsourcing specialized mercenaries...
Surveillance continues.
Awaiting further directives...
***
A week passed unnoticed for Saitama.
It felt like just yesterday he'd found himself alone at night in an unfamiliar forest. Yet seven days—gone in a blink—had transformed the Caped Baldy into a civilian settling into this strange world. No monsters, no alien invasions, no apocalyptic threats. Nothing. Not even petty criminals to catch—the locals handled everything. A quiet, uneventful life...
Truthfully, his strength wasn't needed here. At least not yet. Though Anko had described this world's brutality—the periodic world wars, the dangers lurking beyond the village during high-rank missions—compared to his old world, this place seemed like paradise.
—Boring...— Saitama initially thought.
Yet the apathy that haunted him from his "past life" occasionally receded. And the culprits? Naruto. And partly Anko.
The first... a loudmouthed kid who seemed simple-minded yet had an unbreakable spirit. A spirit Saitama once recognized in himself. Something about the boy kept the hero's numbness at bay, shaking him out of his lethargy.
The second... Just a beautiful, fiery woman assigned to accompany him. Her inexplicable irritation amused him—though he couldn't fathom why she kept blushing tomato-red whenever she saw him reading that book...
Could he call them friends?
Saitama wasn't sure yet. Probably...
Maybe this was fate's design? To find purpose beyond "punching world-ending threats"? Ordinary people without superpowers lived full lives—finding goals, chasing dreams.
—Need a new goal...— Saitama mused, staring at the book in his hands. —But what?—
—Hm... "Come Come Paradise"...— He scratched his chin. —*This* is the bestseller?—
Purchased yesterday after training, the book by some "Jiraiya" was his substitute for missing manga and light novels. Anko had shrieked "Pervert!"—though he still didn't know if she meant him or the author—and turned scarlet every time she saw him reading it.
His first shopping trip happened on day three. After receiving funds from Anko (who'd only remembered money post-spar), the Caped Baldy prioritized essentials. Not clothes, not soap.
Saitama rose from bed, abandoning the book, and approached the window...
—My precious...— He watered the cactus with an elephant-shaped watering can, his face blissful as memories surfaced...
***
Yes. His first purchase had been the spiky plant—easily found at the market. But the watering can proved problematic. He *needed* an elephant-shaped one. Three days of futile searching later, he'd considered leaving the village to expand the hunt. Anko had hissed curses under her breath—why not use a cup? Or just spit on the damned cactus?
On the sixth day, a miracle: Anko arrived with a small green elephant can. Saitama's joy was immeasurable. When he offered payment, she waved him off: —Calm down, it's a gift...—
She tactfully omitted that the "gift" originated from the Hokage—who'd mobilized ANBU teams to scour nearby trade hubs after hearing Saitama might leave the village. None of this reached the Caped Baldy's ears, nor would he have cared.
***
Finished watering, Saitama set the can down and grabbed his book, heading to Training Ground 66. Naruto needed more creative drills—basic exercises wouldn't push the kid's monstrous stamina to its limits. Some ideas were brewing.
Maybe later he'd consult Anko or that "Green Beast" she mentioned. For now, his imagination sufficed to transform this "shinobi larva" into something sturdier. If the kid didn't break, serious training could follow.
***
Uzumaki Naruto's progress was staggering—especially for someone who'd only begun dedicated training a week ago.
Beyond the core three exercises (four hours each), his clones practiced stances, weapon throws, and chakra-assisted tree/water walking.
Naruto nearly danced with joy when Anko demonstrated these techniques on day four. Finally—*real* training! By evening, his clones mastered tree adhesion. The next day, they dangled upside-down from branches while the original did upside-down sit-ups on a cliffside.
Water-walking proved tougher. Clones sank and dispersed until day six. Slow movement came on day seven...
But this was just the visible progress. Other clones devoured knowledge at the library and Academy. On day one, Naruto had sought advice from ex-teacher Umino Iruka:
—Iruka-sensei! What should I read to become an awesome Hokage?!—
The chunin, stunned by this sudden scholarly zeal, compiled a reading list. As Naruto left, Iruka marveled at Kakashi's teaching prowess—where *he* had failed for years, the Copy Ninja sparked transformation in days.
Remarkably, Naruto woke refreshed daily—despite collapsing exhausted each night. Ten thousand reps per exercise, 100km runs (mercifully reduced from Saitama's original plan), and clone-induced migraines that sometimes brought nosebleeds. Anko theorized the Nine-Tails' chakra accelerated his recovery.
Now, post-warmup, Naruto stood before his bald sensei, buzzing with energy.
—Ready for Phase Two?—
—Yes, Master Saitama!—
The hero raised an instructive finger:
—Good. Pushing limits matters, but so does real combat experience...—
Naruto's eyes sparkled:
—Are you finally teaching me techniques? Or sparring? I wanna move like you! And—
—Whoa, hold up!— Saitama cut in. —No spars yet. But—(noting the kid's drooping shoulders)—you'll get combat practice. Guaranteed.
He glanced at Anko snoring under a tree, then whispered:
—Time to hunt. Every man should provide for himself.—
Before Naruto could process this, Saitama vanished—leaving only a sleeping Anko on the quiet field.
***
**Chapter 7 (continued)**
Moving through the treetops came relatively easy to Saitama. At first, of course, the branches he pushed off from turned to splinters, and he'd land a hundred meters away after plowing straight through several tree trunks. But after a couple minutes, the Caped Baldy adjusted—his leaps now vaguely resembling the clumsy jumps of genin.
—Isn't this trespassing?— Naruto asked, glancing around nervously. —This is the Forest of Death. And I heard it's pretty dangerous here.
—Since when are you scared?— Saitama smirked. —Doesn't suit you. What happened to becoming the strongest shinobi and Hokage?
—As if!— the boy grumbled. —I'm not scared, dattebayo!... Just worried about getting in trouble with the old man. Though he's nice. Even after all my pranks, he never punished me too hard.— Naruto broke into a grin.
—Heh, relax. Old Man Hiruzen won't find out. No tails on us—I checked.
Saitama had moved so fast when snatching Naruto from the training ground that the observers didn't even realize what happened.
—Tails?— Naruto blinked.
Mid-leap between trees, Saitama frowned in thought before continuing:
—Ever since I came to your village, masked guys have been following me.
—ANBU?— Naruto gasped. —But why?
—Dunno.— Saitama shrugged. —Probably don't trust me. I am new here, after all.
—But they're just watching, right?— Naruto turned to his teacher. —Maybe they're guarding you?
—Hmm...
Saitama scratched his head mid-air, pondering the question.
He'd noticed the surveillance immediately after meeting Anko. The operatives were clearly masters of stealth—but nothing escaped the Caped Baldy's enhanced senses.
At first, the attention flattered him. After two days of constant "tingling" at the edge of his awareness, it became irritating.
Then came the oddities—needles shooting from his toilet, nails in his bed, suspicious spices in restaurant food, hidden traps in alleys launching projectiles at his bald head.
Strangest of all—these "surprises" only happened when he was alone. Mitarashi didn't shadow him 24/7, and his student mostly trained independently.
—Weird customs here...— Saitama mused. He didn't appreciate the locals' "welcome gifts," harmless as they were.
—Master,— Naruto's voice snapped him from his thoughts. —What are you thinking about?
—Nothing important.— Saitama waved dismissively. —We can start soon.
Moments later, the bald hero stopped on a thick branch, listening intently before dropping to the ground. Naruto landed beside him.
—We're deep enough now.— Saitama surveyed the area. —Anko said this place is only dangerous to clueless kids. But you're not a kid anymore, right Naruto?
The blond met his teacher's gaze and nodded firmly:
—Hai, sensei... But I still don't get what the training is.
Saitama struck a pose, crossing his arms.
—Heh. Well, it's not exactly training.— His grin widened. —More like a survival test... with a side lesson in wilderness foraging.
Seeing that smile—the kind that makes you want to hide in bushes—Naruto gulped audibly...
***
—AAAAAH!— The orange-clad boy screamed, fleeing something at top speed.
—Krr-krr-krr...— came the ominous sound behind him.
In his panic, Naruto forgot about tree-hopping—he just ran, crashing through undergrowth, tripping over roots.
Finally, he burst into a clearing, desperately searching for his teacher.
—Master Saitama! Where are you?!
—Why the yelling?— A calm voice came from above. Saitama sat reading in a tree.
—M-master! There's a g-grasshopper!— the genin stammered.
He was drenched in sweat, body trembling.
—You're scared of a grasshopper?— Saitama lowered his book. —Where's your manhood?
—B-but it's huge! And kunai bounce off it!—
—Nonsense.— Saitama cut him off. —Fear magnifies everything. Pull yourself together and deal with it.
Before Naruto could reply, a swamp-colored creature resembling a mantis landed heavily in the clearing. The insectoid measured four meters long, its forelimbs ending in bladed appendages. Its mandibles clicked angrily.
Saitama stared in shock.
—You...— He pointed at the mantis. —Can't be...
The insectoid's head tilted, emitting another grating screech.
Naruto hurled kunai and shuriken—all bouncing harmlessly off its carapace. The blond formed hand seals:
—Shadow Clone Jutsu!
Smoke filled the clearing as an orange tide of clones charged. Their strikes were flawless—yet never connected. The mantis shredded clones faster than they could attack. Some tried shadow kunai—same result.
Within ten heartbeats, no clones remained.
Saitama stood frozen, face a mask of disbelief.
—How...— he whispered. —Impossible...
—Nothing works!— Naruto yelled, dodging between trees. —I told you, it's invincible!—
—SWISH—
A bladed limb nearly decapitated him—he ducked instinctively, losing his forehead protector and a lock of hair.
Then he tripped.
The mantis loomed over its fallen prey, blades raised—
—BOOM—
Insect chunks painted the surrounding foliage. Green blood splattered Naruto's face.
—Bleh... Ptooey!— He spat out the foul liquid.
Dazed, the boy scrambled up, surveying the carnage. Then promptly vomited his breakfast.
—You broke my ceiling, freak.— Saitama pointed at the mantis's twitching lower half. —And skipped rent. Thought you'd die without paying?
His shock had vanished, replaced by mild irritation. He remembered that green insect—the one that had crashed through his City Z apartment.
Retrieving his forehead protector, Naruto turned to his teacher:
—What ceiling, sensei?
—Hmm...— Saitama studied the remains, then scratched his chin. —Oops. My bad.— He addressed the twitching leg: —Sorry, Locust. Wrong guy.
The leg stilled—apparently accepting the apology.
Saitama shook his head at his student:
—You failed round one. I'm disappointed.
Naruto deflated. He wanted to argue—the monster's armor, speed, and blades made it unbeatable—but seeing how easily Saitama dispatched it, he stayed silent.
—Know why I'm disappointed?— Saitama asked.
—Because... I'm too weak?—
Saitama almost said "yes." Seeing the boy's crushed expression, he reconsidered.
—What nonsense!— he feigned shock.
Naruto blinked in confusion.
—I'm disappointed you didn't use your head.— Saitama adopted a lecturing tone. —Yes, you're weak. For now. Expecting to one-shot everything on your first hunt is stupid. Survival tests aren't just about killing—it's knowing when to retreat. And if you can't retreat? Use every advantage: tricks, traps, even dirty tactics. Remember Crablante?
—Um...— Naruto pondered. —The one who wanted to kill that dimpled-chin kid?
—Right.— Saitama nodded. —Back then, I wasn't training or playing hero. That monster stood over two meters tall with armor-piercing claws. It beat me badly... until it let its guard down.
—But Master!— Naruto exclaimed. —How'd you beat it?
—Ripped its eye out. The weak spot.— Saitama said calmly.
—That's...— Naruto grimaced at the mental image. —What happened to it?
—Died almost instantly... but we're getting off track. Tell me, Naruto—what mistakes did you make today?
The boy scratched his head furiously, as if massaging his brain for answers.
After a minute, Naruto realized his fear had made him forget his abilities. Worse—he'd misunderstood the assignment. This was a foraging mission, not a boss fight. He should've avoided the mantis entirely.
Instead, he'd attacked blindly—first near a cave, then here—wasting clones and kunai without targeting weak points like the eyes.
As Naruto confessed this, Saitama thought:
—Thank fries he figured it out himself. Saved me from making up more nonsense.—
Outwardly, he nodded sagely:
—Good analysis! Let's call it here.— He eyed Naruto's gore-covered form. —First, clean up. There's a stream nearby. Then we'll forage. You failed the lesson, but learned something.
—Thanks, Master,— Naruto mumbled.
—No problem.— Saitama turned. —But stay alert. This place is dangerous. And...— He smiled. —You're cooking whatever we catch.
They headed east—unaware they'd entered the Red Zone. Even special jonin avoided this forbidden sector of the Forest of Death...