Uchiha power in HxH world - Chapter 9

Chapter 9: The Veteran, The Broken Bones, and the Golden Glitch

The cruelest thing about surviving absolute hell is the expectation that you should wake up the next morning feeling like a brand-new person. I woke up feeling exactly the same, except now I didn’t have the excuse of being a helpless victim.

At exactly 5:00 AM, my heavy bedroom door hissed open. I groaned, pulling my silk comforter over my head, retreating into the darkness of my ridiculously expensive bed.

“Master Milluki,” Kasuga’s voice cut through the silence, as sharp and uncompromising as a scalpel. “It is time.”

“I graduated,” I mumbled into my pillow, perfectly channeling Milluki’s whiny, entitled tone. “I’m an official operative now. I don’t have to wake up before the sun. Tell Papa I’m resting.”

“You graduated from foundational conditioning, Master,” Kasuga corrected smoothly, walking over and literally pulling the heavy comforter off my bed with a single, practiced tug. “You did not graduate from the Patriarch’s mandatory sparring directive. Your first opponent is waiting in the East Courtyard.”

I shivered as the heavily air-conditioned air of my room hit my bare chest. With 80 Vitality, I didn’t actually feel the cold the way a normal person would, but the psychological annoyance was profound.

“Fine!” I snapped, sitting up and glaring at her. “I’m up! Get out so I can change!”

Kasuga bowed and stepped into the hallway. I dragged myself out of bed, throwing on a lightweight, flexible black tracksuit. I strapped a heavy leather belt around my waist, mostly out of habit, and splashed some cold water on my face.

‘Alright,’ I thought, looking at my sharp, lean reflection in the mirror. ‘Sparring. It’s just combat practice. I have 100 Agility and a Sharingan. How hard can it be?’

—

The East Courtyard was an expansive, open-air arena paved with ancient, interlocking stone tiles. The Kukuroo Mountain fog hung thick and heavy in the early morning air, chilling the environment to a misty gray.

Standing in the absolute dead center of the courtyard, holding a simple wooden broom and sweeping stray leaves off the stone, was an old man.

He was incredibly short, barely coming up to my chest. He wore the standard black butler’s suit, though it looked a bit loose on his frail, stooped frame. He had a shock of thinning gray hair, deep wrinkles carving canyons into his face, and thick, round glasses that obscured his eyes.

“Ah, Master Milluki,” the old man said, his voice a warm, slightly raspy wheeze. He stopped sweeping and bowed deeply, resting his hands on the handle of the broom. “It is an absolute honor. I am Hideo. I shall be your training partner for this morning’s exercise.”

I stared down at him. My Intelligence immediately urged caution, while my Perception practically screamed at me. I focused my eyes, willing the System’s basic observation skill to trigger.

A small, translucent blue text box floated above the old man’s head.

[Target: Hideo]
[Estimated Level: 50]

My stomach instantly plummeted into my shoes.

Level 50. In the System’s ninja terms, that made him a mid-tier Chunin. In the equivalent ‘Hunter x Hunter’ Nen scaling, he was roughly a Level 15 Master. He had more raw aura capacity and combat experience than I did, wrapped up in the body of a man who looked like he needed help crossing the street.

‘This is the weakest butler available,’ I realized, a cold sweat breaking out on my neck. ‘They intentionally start you at the bottom of the ladder. If this guy is the absolute bottom tier, Gotoh is going to be a raid boss.’

“You’re Hideo?” I asked, masking my terror with Milluki’s signature arrogance. I crossed my arms, looking down my nose at him. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go make me some tea? I don’t want Papa getting mad at me for breaking a senior citizen.”

Hideo chuckled, a dry, dusty sound. He slowly set the broom aside, folding his hands behind his back.

“You are too kind to worry about this old bag of bones, Master Milluki,” Hideo smiled gently. “But please, do not hold back on my account. The purpose of this spar is to evaluate your practical application of force. Whenever you are ready.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. In a fight against an opponent with superior levels, you do not give them the initiative.

I dropped into a low stance, pulling the chakra from my core and flooding it directly into my optic nerves. The sharp, electric heat sparked behind my eyes.

The world shifted into a saturated, bloody red. The three black tomoe spun rapidly in my irises before locking into place. The swirling fog slowed to a crawl. The falling leaves seemed to hang suspended in the air.

‘Sharingan.’

“Oh?” Hideo murmured, his head tilting slightly. Even in slow motion, I could see the subtle shift in his posture. He recognized the aura flare, even if he didn’t understand the eyes.

I exploded off my back foot. With 100 Agility, the stone tile beneath my boot actually cracked from the sheer kinetic launch. I crossed the 7 feet between us in a fraction of a second, aiming a devastating right hook directly at Hideo’s jaw.

Hideo didn’t dodge. He simply raised his left forearm.

‘SMACK.’

The impact echoed like a gunshot in the quiet courtyard. My fist connected with his arm, but it felt like I had just punched a solid block of reinforced tungsten.

My Sharingan instantly processed the data. A fraction of a second before my fist landed, Hideo had flawlessly manipulated his aura, shifting a dense concentration of it to his forearm. It was ‘Ryu’—focused aura defense—executed so fast and so casually it was terrifying.

“Excellent speed, Master Milluki,” Hideo praised warmly, even as he effortlessly absorbed my attack. “But your trajectory is entirely linear. You attack exactly where you are looking.”

Before I could retract my arm, Hideo’s right hand snapped forward, his fingers curled into a loose fist. He struck me directly in the center of my chest.

The blow wasn’t fast, but it carried a terrifying, heavy weight. It felt like I had been hit by a slow-moving truck. I was launched backward, my boots skidding across the stone tiles for ten feet before I managed to dig my heels in and stop.

I coughed, a spike of dull pain radiating through my ribs. My Pain Tolerance Lv4 instantly kicked in, dampening the agony into a manageable, distant throbbing.

‘Experience,’ I thought, gritting my teeth. ‘In terms of raw levels, we are almost identical. But he has spent several years fighting to the death, and I’ve spent my life playing MMORPGs.’

“Again,” I spat, my pride flaring.

I raised my hands, my fingers blurring through a sequence of seals. ‘Tiger. Boar. Ox. Dog.’

“Clone Jutsu!”

With a series of soft ‘poofs’, four identical copies of Milluki Zoldyck materialized in the fog, surrounding the old butler. They had no physical substance, but to the naked eye, they were indistinguishable from me.

“Fascinating,” Hideo observed, looking around at the five of us. “An illusionary duplication technique. Very similar to the family’s ‘Rhythm Echo’.”

I didn’t let him analyze it further. All five of us rushed him simultaneously from different angles.

I expected confusion. I expected him to flinch at the phantom attacks, giving me the opening I needed to strike his blind spot.

Instead, Hideo simply closed his eyes.

“When the eyes are deceived, Master Milluki,” Hideo said calmly, stepping forward into the chaotic melee, “one must rely on the flow of intent.”

My clones swung their fists. Hideo didn’t even bother blocking. The phantom limbs passed harmlessly through his suit. But the moment my real fist came within striking distance, Hideo pivoted flawlessly, stepping inside my guard and slapping my wrist away with a parry that completely destroyed my balance.

He didn’t just break the illusion; he ignored it entirely. His experience with the ‘Rhythm Echo’ meant he already knew how to filter out visual noise and track the genuine killing intent of the real body.

“Damn it,” I cursed, stumbling past him.

I needed to leverage my only true advantage. My raw Agility stat. I was faster than him; I just needed to use it properly.

I channeled my chakra into my legs, invoking the Body Flicker technique. ‘Shunshin no Jutsu.’

I vanished.

I didn’t actually teleport, but with 100 Agility combined with the high-speed movement technique, I moved so fast that I effectively disappeared from normal visual tracking. I reappeared directly behind Hideo, launching a sweeping kick aimed at the back of his knees to cripple his stance.

But for Hideo, I wasn’t invisible.

The old man dropped low, avoiding the sweep by a fraction of an inch, and spun on his heel. His aura flared violently, expanding outward in a thick, oppressive shroud of dense energy.

‘Ken.’ He was using the advanced defensive technique to cover his entire body in a fortified layer of aura.

I retracted my leg and threw a desperate barrage of punches, my Sharingan tracking his every micromovement, allowing me to find the perfect openings in his guard. I landed a strike on his shoulder, his ribs, his temple.

But it did absolutely nothing.

My knuckles bruised against his ‘Ken’. I was fast, incredibly fast—even Grandpa Zeno would probably raise an eyebrow at my raw, unenhanced physical speed—but speed meant nothing if there was no mass behind the impact.

My base Strength stat was 34. I hadn’t learned Chakra Enhanced Strength yet. I couldn’t concentrate my chakra into explosive, devastating physical blows the way a seasoned Enhancer could. I was just hitting a brick wall very, very quickly.

“You are exceptionally swift, Master,” Hideo said, his voice completely calm despite the flurry of blows raining down on him. “But your strikes lack conviction. And your defense… is severely lacking.”

Hideo stopped dodging. He planted his feet, and his aura changed. The dense, defensive shroud of ‘Ken’ suddenly spiked outward, transforming into the aggressive, explosive power of ‘Ren’.

He stepped into my barrage.

I saw the punch coming. The Sharingan predicted the exact trajectory of his fist, the exact rotation of his hips. I knew exactly where it was going to land.

But knowing and avoiding are two different things.

I tried to Body Flicker backward, but my technique level was too low to instantly chain the movements together. Hideo’s fist, wrapped in the terrifying power of a Level 15 Nen Master’s ‘Ren’, connected dead center with my sternum.

‘CRACK.’

The sound of my own ribs fracturing echoed sickeningly in my ears. The sheer kinetic force of the blow lifted me completely off my feet.

I didn’t fly back this time; I was driven straight down into the stone tiles. The impact shattered the paving beneath me, creating a small crater.

“Gah!”

Blood sprayed from my lips. My vision swam, the red hue of the Sharingan flickering dangerously as my concentration shattered.

Hideo didn’t stop. He was a Zoldyck butler; he was trained to neutralize the threat until it stopped twitching.

He stepped over me, his foot coming down with brutal, mechanical precision onto my right forearm.

‘SNAP.’

Both my radius and ulna fractured under his heel.

Normally, the pain would have been blinding. It would have sent me into a state of shock, forcing me to black out. But my Pain Tolerance Lv4 intercepted the neurological signals. I felt the pressure, I felt the sickening grating of bone on bone, but it felt distant. It felt like I was watching a movie of someone else getting brutally beaten.

I lay there in the crater, gasping for breath, staring up at the gray sky, my right arm bent at a horrifying, unnatural angle.

The red glow faded from my eyes, the tomoe dissolving back into my normal black irises.

“I yield,” I wheezed, spitting a mouthful of blood onto my own cheek.

Hideo instantly stepped back, the oppressive, terrifying aura of his ‘Ren’ vanishing as if someone had flipped a switch. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a pristine white handkerchief, and gently wiped a speck of dust from his glasses.

“An excellent effort, Master Milluki,” Hideo said, bowing deeply once again, completely unbothered by the fact that he had just shattered my skeleton. “Your visual acuity and raw speed are truly unprecedented for your age. However, you rely too heavily on your eyes. You must learn to augment your physical strikes with your aura, or you will forever be a fast breeze against a stone wall.”

I didn’t answer. I just lay there, staring at the sky, waiting for the medical team to run out with a stretcher and a healer to stitch my ribs back together. I had lost. Comprehensively and utterly.

And then, the blue screen materialized in the air above me.

‘Ding!’
[Combat Encounter Concluded.]
[Opponent Level: 50. Threat Assessment: High.]
[Survival and Combat Experience Calculated.]
[EXP +1000]

My one good eye widened. A thousand EXP. Just for surviving a three-minute beatdown from an old man.

‘Ding!’
[Level Up!]

The golden chime echoed in my skull, infinitely louder and more majestic than it ever had been before.

But what happened next was something I had never experienced outside of a video game.

Usually, a level-up granted me a burst of heat, burning away fat or slightly reinforcing my muscles. But right now, I was critically injured. The system registered the level-up, registered my HP as being critically low, and executed a complete, instantaneous status refresh.

A blinding, golden light erupted from my core.

It didn’t feel like the healer’s soothing green Nen. It felt like absolute, commanding authority over my own biology.

‘CRACK-POP.’

My right arm, which was bent backward, violently snapped itself back into place. The fractured bones fused together in a fraction of a second. The shattered ribs in my chest expanded, knitting perfectly back into a flawless ribcage. The internal bleeding ceased. The bruising on my chest vanished as if it had never existed.

My Health gauge, which had been flashing red in the low double digits, instantly shot up to maximum.

I lay there for a second, perfectly still, processing what had just happened.

I slowly sat up. I rolled my right shoulder, flexing my fingers. There was no pain. There was no stiffness. I was completely, one-hundred-percent healed.

I looked up.

For the first time since I had walked into the courtyard, Hideo’s polite, grandfatherly smile had vanished. His eyes were wide behind his thick glasses, his mouth slightly open in genuine, unadulterated shock. He stared at my arm, then at my chest, and then at my face.

He was a veteran of countless battles. He knew what healing Nen looked like. He knew it took time, focus, and a dedicated enhancer to repair bone.

He had just watched a boy instantly, spontaneously regenerate from critical skeletal trauma without casting a single technique or receiving outside aid.

“Master Milluki…” Hideo whispered, taking a half-step backward. “What… what was that?”

I stood up, dusting off my tracksuit, trying to play it as cool as humanly possible while my own heart hammered against my fully healed ribs.

“I told you, Hideo,” I said, putting on my most arrogant, punchable Milluki smirk. “It’s a secret. Section four, paragraph two. Don’t worry about it. Let’s just say my recovery time is better than it used to be.”

—

High above the East Courtyard, in a darkened observation room, the monitors glowed with the feed from a dozen hidden cameras.

Zeno Zoldyck stood perfectly still, his hands clasped behind his back, staring intently at the screen that had just captured my spontaneous regeneration. Next to him, Silva sat in a heavy leather chair, his massive arms crossed, his brow furrowed so deeply it looked like a trench.

“Replay that,” Silva ordered, his deep voice devoid of its usual calm.

The technician in the corner tapped the console. The footage rewound. They watched Hideo shatter Milluki’s arm. They watched Milluki yield. And then, they watched the invisible, instantaneous fusion of Milluki bones.

“No aura fluctuation,” Zeno murmured, his sharp eyes narrowing into slits. “He did not consciously manipulate his Nen to heal himself. There was no visible emission. The tissue simply… rewrote its own physical state.”

“It’s a conditional trigger,” Silva concluded, his tone grim. “He engaged in combat, sustained massive damage, and upon the conclusion of the event, his ability forcefully reset his physical parameters to optimal. He has essentially created a failsafe against death.”

Zeno let out a low whistle. “A terrifying ability, if that is the case. But to possess an ability that defies the laws of biology so casually… the restriction he placed upon himself to achieve this must be astronomically severe.”

If they only knew that the ‘restriction’ was just gaining enough numerical experience points to trigger a digital level-up, they would have probably thrown me out of a window.

“We continue observing,” Silva said finally, leaning back in the chair. “Inform Hideo to increase the pressure in tomorrow’s bout. I want to see how many times this ability can trigger before his aura reserves run dry.”

—

Blissfully unaware that my father had just ordered the butler staff to beat me even harder tomorrow, I strutted back to my room, feeling like a million bucks.

Losing the spar sucked, yes. But the rewards were undeniable.

I threw myself onto my bed, pulling up the master status panel.

—

Name: Milluki Zoldyck

Bloodline: Uchiha Lv3 (75%)

Level: 49 (629/1275)

Affinity: Fire Lv3, Yin Lv5, Yang Lv2, Lightning Lv4

…

Health: 570/570 [Recovers 0.8% per minute]

Chakra: 745/745 [Recovers 0.2% per minute]

Fatigue: 0%

…

STR: 34

AGI: 100

VIT: 80

INT: 20

PER: 24

…

Skill: Sharingan Lv3, Chakra Control Lv4(82%), Transformation Lv1(12%), Clones Lv1(83%), Body Flicker Lv2(54%)

Ability: Poison Resistance Lv4(0%), Pain Tolerance Lv4(1%)

…

[Library]

—

I had gained five free stat points from the level-up. I dumped all of them directly into Perception.

The fight with Hideo had taught me a valuable lesson. My Sharingan was incredible, but it was bottlenecked by my base Perception stat. The Sharingan multiplied my PER by 8. If my base PER was only 19, the Sharingan was working with 152. By pushing my base PER to 24, my Sharingan effectively jumped to a 192 rating when active. That meant faster processing, sharper visual acuity, and better predictive tracking against high-level opponents.

Furthermore, the system log showed a beautiful array of passive growths.

My Uchiha Bloodline had ticked up by 2%, bringing it to 75%. The intense stress of combat and the reliance on the Sharingan was pushing my genetics closer to the next evolutionary leap.

My Clone Jutsu had spiked to 83% mastery, likely because the system recognized Hideo’s instant dissection of the technique and was compensating for the flaw.

But the biggest prize was the Body Flicker. It had finally crossed the threshold and leveled up to Level 2.

According to the updated tooltip, Body Flicker Lv2 allowed me to boost my base Agility by 3x during the execution of the technique, rather than the previous 2x multiplier. With 100 base AGI, multiplying it by three meant that for a fraction of a second, I would be moving with the agility of a 300-stat monster.

“Tomorrow,” I grinned, staring at the ceiling. “Tomorrow, Hideo isn’t going to be able to touch me.”

I was probably lying to myself, considering Hideo had likely held back ninety percent of his actual power, but the gamer delusion was a powerful drug.

I rolled over, grabbing my phone off the nightstand to order a celebratory breakfast. I had a lot of eating to do if I wanted to hit Level 50 before the end of the week. The Zoldyck family’s sparring program was brutal, but as an EXP farm, it was absolutely unparalleled.