On the other hand, Ino was deeply immersed in assisting Lee and Gai with their experiments. Ever since she had been chosen by Hecate, the Master of Magic, her abilities had expanded exponentially. The time she had spent in the immortal world had not been wasted—she had learned countless new techniques and honed her mind far beyond the limits of an ordinary shinobi.
One of her most impressive feats was the ability to create a complete replica of the world around her, one that responded as the real world would. This allowed Gai and Lee to push themselves beyond mortal limitations, opening the Eight Gates without the risk of real-world consequences. For the first time, they could refine their techniques and explore their full potential without the fear of death looming over them.
Like Hinata and the others, Ino was fully committed to the fight to save the world. She was not content to spend her days simply basking in the warmth of her newfound love—though, admittedly, she did think about ways to impress him. The meeting with the Immortals had changed something within her. It had given her a clearer perspective on what it meant to stand beside someone like Naruto. The gap between them was immense, but that did not mean she was destined to remain weak. With the right amount of effort and sacrifice, she could carve out a place where she was not just a supporting figure but a true force in her own right.
Yet, power came at a price. If she truly wished to stand on the battlefield alongside the strongest, she would have to endure torment that surpassed human limitations. Nothing would come easily.
As she watched the Green Beasts of Konoha burn through their life force in their relentless pursuit of strength, her mind drifted to Naruto. He, too, was undergoing experimentation—though in a vastly different way. She knew there was no real danger, but the very thought of him being subjected to such treatment left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Still, she understood why he was doing it. This was not about personal ambition or vanity; it was about the survival of humanity. No amount of personal discomfort could outweigh the necessity of their mission.
Beyond her work with Gai and Lee, Ino had been perfecting another revolutionary technique. By delving into the minds of others, she was accumulating knowledge and experience at an astonishing rate. Skills that would have taken years to master were now becoming second nature to her in mere weeks.
More than that, she had begun developing a method to transfer this knowledge to others. With the right approach, she could help new shinobi reach an expert level in a matter of months.
The concept was still in its infancy, but her foundation was solid. Using Naruto's vast pool of knowledge and experience as a base, she had begun constructing a mental library—one that held the accumulated wisdom of countless warriors, scholars, and masters. At the moment, it was still small, containing only a handful of books, but with time, she envisioned it expanding into a collection that held thousands, if not millions, of volumes.
The challenge now was making it something beyond herself. Right now, the library was tied to her existence. If she were to die, it would all disappear with her. And while she had no intention of falling in battle, she was not naive enough to ignore the fragility of human life. Death was unpredictable.
If she truly wanted to make a lasting impact, the library needed to be independent, accessible to others, and permanent.
And so, she continued her work, pushing herself further each day. She would not allow herself to be left behind.
Returning to Gai and Lee, Ino had taken her taijutsu skills to the next level by integrating their memories and experiences into her own. This direct absorption of knowledge made her movements sharper, her techniques more efficient, and her understanding of the Gates deeper. What fascinated her most, however, was the ambitious project they were working on—a breakthrough that, if successful, could propel humanity forward by a thousand miles.
Yet, even with Naruto's experience as a Sage added to the mix, progress was painstakingly slow. The Ninth Gate, which Gai and Lee referred to as Earth, was proving to be an immense challenge. The theory behind it suggested that a user had to connect to the planet itself, making Sage Mode a crucial stepping stone. However, the real issue lay in execution—activating the Ninth Gate required the user to first open the Eighth Gate, which was already a death sentence under normal circumstances.
The fundamental problem was the instability of the chakra flow. The Eight Gates removed the body's natural limiters, flooding it with an overwhelming surge of energy, but this process was inherently destructive. The sheer force of the primordial chakra meant that anyone who opened all eight gates had, at best, a single second before their life force was utterly extinguished. In the worst case, their body would literally explode from the pressure.
This was a horrifying reality, yet the war had revealed something strange—something that had left many researchers and warriors questioning the true nature of the Gates. Could a mere unlocking of limiters allow a mortal to stand against an immortal? It didn't add up.
The answer, they realized, lay in the origins of chakra itself.
Humanity's chakra system had not evolved naturally—it was a gift, an exact replica of the Sage of Six Paths' own chakra system. While individual genetics determined the amount of chakra a person could generate, the true power of chakra remained largely untapped. It was a locked potential, a hidden force meant to be uncovered.
And why had the Sage of Six Paths given humanity such a system?
The answer was clear—he had designed it as a weapon. From the very beginning, he had armed humanity with the means to resist the Ōtsutsuki. He had left them a path to power, but it was one they would have to discover on their own.
The tragedy was that only ten percent of the population ever developed chakra to a usable degree. The majority either lacked the necessary life force and spiritual energy or simply never trained to unlock it. Worse, those who did cultivate chakra often ended up killing one another, reducing the number of potential high-level practitioners and limiting the transmission of strong genetics to future generations.
This revelation had sparked a new wave of hope and determination. The realization that they had been fighting with only a fraction of their true potential changed everything. Warriors, researchers, and shinobi alike were now pushing themselves harder than ever, training with renewed purpose.
But in the end, everything hinged on Lee.
Unlike most high-level shinobi, Lee had barely any chakra. Yet, he had mastered the Gates through sheer willpower and discipline. He understood them better than anyone else alive. If there was anyone who could push beyond the Eighth Gate and uncover the true secret of the chakra system, it was him.
His success—or failure—would determine the future of humanity's strength.
Ino had seen Lee die hundreds of times within their simulated world, yet he still couldn't form the connection with the earth. The Ninth Gate remained beyond their reach.
Gai had attempted it as well, but the result was the same. Their best efforts only led to failure. Seeing their struggle, Ino decided to take things into her own hands. With her connection to Naruto, she had fully mastered Sage Mode, and her newfound power made it effortless to call upon nature energy.
"Let me give you a helping hand," she said, her eyes glowing faintly as she channeled nature energy. Instead of absorbing it to create Senjutsu chakra, she let it flow around Lee, wrapping him in its presence like a guiding current.
At first, it seemed helpful—but ultimately, it didn't work. Lee couldn't connect to the energy at all. Worse, the more Gates he opened, the harder it became for him to focus. The pain was unimaginable.
The Eighth Gate was suffering incarnate. The energy it unleashed was like a tsunami crashing against a fragile boat. No matter how strong the user was, controlling it was impossible.
But Lee had never backed down from pain.
"THIS PAIN SHALL GIVE ME STRENGTH!" Lee roared, his body trembling as he forced himself to endure. He pushed forward, seeking that elusive connection.
Yet, the chakra outflow was too great. His body was burning up.
Seeing this, Ino acted. She forcefully shut down his pain receptors, stabilizing his mind while peering through his body with her abilities. With both their minds working together, they finally glimpsed something—an impossibly thin thread of nature energy, just beyond his reach.
Lee stretched out, trying to grasp it.
Then, everything went wrong.
The instant his chakra and the green energy made contact, the two forces clashed violently. Lee's body detonated in an instant.
A deafening explosion rocked the training ground.
Ino was sent flying, her body crashing into the ground as she gasped for air. The sheer force of the feedback had rattled her soul.
"Bloody hell…" she wheezed, trying to catch her breath. Gai was already beside her, patting her back, his expression filled with concern yet unshaken by the sight of his student's latest failure.
Lee, meanwhile, was slowly collecting himself. His body had been obliterated in the simulation, but his mind had survived the experience. Blood dripped from his nose, his forehead, his ears—but his lips curled into a smile.
He had seen it.
"I HAVE SEEN IT. I HAVE TOUCHED IT. SOON… SOON…!" His voice trembled with exhaustion, but his eyes burned with renewed determination.
And then, he collapsed.
Blood loss. Mental strain. His body couldn't handle more today.
Ino sighed, wiping her face. "I think we should take a break. Lee needs more training before he can attempt the Ninth Gate again."
Without further explanation, she projected the memory of what they had seen directly into Gai's mind. The moment he understood, his expression shifted from serious contemplation to unrestrained joy.
They had failed a thousand times. But this time, they had seen hope.
Gai lifted Lee onto his back, carrying him away with a proud, satisfied grin. Their journey wasn't over, but this step forward was monumental.
As they left, Ino groaned, rubbing her temples. The whole ordeal had drained her completely. She needed a break.
She needed Naruto.
"I deserve some reward for enduring this torture," she muttered to herself, a smirk forming on her lips as she decided her next move.
A date. Just the two of them. No world-ending threats, no training, no stress—just them.
She was going to make sure of it.