Chapter 62: My Summoning Technique: Rashomon is a bit... off

Evening, Training Ground Seven.

"Finally, the last jutsu."

Dripping with sweat, Link sat on a rock, recovering from his self-imposed overtraining regimen. He had decided to test it on himself before applying it to his teammates.

The results were inconclusive for now. There were no visible differences yet, as the true effects would only manifest during subsequent training sessions or natural body growth. However, Delicate Illness Extraction Jutsu had proven its value—it left no lingering damage.

It was as though the injuries had never occurred.

The extracted "damage" seemed to dissipate too quickly for him to store it, and when tested on a rabbit, it produced no noticeable reactions. Perhaps the damage was simply too minor for the rabbit to notice.

Another observation was that while the jutsu eliminated physical pain and fatigue caused by training or damage, mental fatigue persisted. This meant careful planning would be necessary when using it.

Satisfied for now, Link exhaled deeply and stood. He gathered his chakra, formed seals, and executed—

"Summoning Jutsu: Rashomon."

"Clack! Boom!"

A black-and-gray gate burst forth from the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. It wasn't as ominous as he had imagined. The structure was about 7–8 meters tall and nearly 10 meters wide, resembling a classic Japanese castle gate, complete with tiled roofing and wooden framework.

It looked oddly similar to the main gate of Tanzaku Town.

The gate's double doors bore menacing demon faces with fangs and horns. The sides were black walls emitting a faint, ominous aura.

Breathing heavily from the chakra expenditure, Link approached and pushed the gate open.

"Creak..."

Inside, a swirling vortex of strange energy churned, accompanied by fragmented whispers. Though the words were unclear, the air was thick with negative emotions.

He took a step back, sensing something was about to emerge.

"Tap... Tap... Tap..."

Footsteps echoed from within. Moments later, a figure stepped into the sunset-lit scene—a man wearing a Konohagakure Anbu chest plate and black cropped pants, his face obscured by a monkey mask.

Link froze, staring at the man in disbelief.

The man removed his mask, revealing a face somewhat resembling Link's. Smiling warmly, he ruffled Link's hair and said, "Long time no see, son."

But before Link could react, countless gray-white hands shot out from the vortex, grabbing the man and dragging him back inside.

"Bang!"

The gate slammed shut, twisting and dissolving into nothingness as if it had never existed.

Link snapped out of his daze to realize his chakra reserves were nearly depleted. His body throbbed with intense pain—a sign of continuous chakra release.

"It hurts..."

There was no time to dwell on his unexpected reunion with his father. The pain was overwhelming, forcing him to crouch down.

He had read about this before: excessive chakra release caused severe pain. Hyūga Neji mentioned it during his fight with Kidōmaru, and Sasuke experienced similar agony while activating Susanoo.

But Link hadn't expected it to be this bad. No wonder Sasuke could barely stand during such moments.

After some time, he staggered to his feet, wiping tears caused by the pain. His expression was complex.

"As I suspected, I've opened a gateway to the Pure Land..."

The line between life and death had blurred in his hands.

The good news? The Sage of Six Paths hadn't shown up to lecture him.

The bad news? The continuous pain from prolonged chakra expenditure couldn't be avoided.

Moreover, it seemed that someone needed to have prior communication with him to cross from the Pure Land to the living world via Rashomon.

"I guess I'll need to figure out how to make a call to the First or Second Hokage..."

Determined, Link made a mental note: he had to ensure Hiruzen Sarutobi survived the Konoha Crush Plan. The Reaper Death Seal would interfere with his newfound "service" and limit its potential.

"The power of change... is in my hands."

…

One Month Later, Training Ground Seven.

"Huff... Huff..."

Lying shirtless on a rock, Link panted heavily. His once vaguely defined muscles were now sharply cut, sweat dripping onto the grass below.

He hadn't used the Delicate Illness Extraction Jutsu to repair his muscle damage yet. Extracting the damage too early would halt the natural repair and growth processes.

One session of intense training paired with the jutsu every week was enough to accelerate his physical development. Overdoing it would only cause unnecessary mental strain.

Training alongside his teammates, Link realized that pure effort wasn't enough to build strength. Natural talent played a huge role.

Muscle repair, structural adjustments, and neural recruitment for better control—all of these varied greatly between individuals. Physical growth was as much about genetics as it was effort.

Unfortunately, neither he nor his teammates were physical prodigies.

But with his advantage, the gap could eventually be closed.

"Boss..." Iris stumbled over, collapsing against the rock. "We're resuming missions tomorrow... Can't we just stay in the village and keep training?"

Of the three, Iris was the most addicted to the feeling of getting stronger.

Sitting on the other side, Ami sighed as she inspected her developing muscles. "If it weren't for Boss, do you think you'd get to stay in the village for over a month without taking on a single mission?"

"Thud. Thud."

Link unstrapped the weights from his waist and legs, letting them drop to the ground. Staring at the blue sky, he said, "Take your time. We have plenty of it..."

Even geniuses couldn't afford to stay idle in the village. Missions were essential for contributing to the village and developing as a ninja.

Besides, his wallet was suffering from their intense training diet.

"Wrap up early today and get some rest. We'll meet at the Hokage's office tomorrow morning."

With that, Link closed his eyes, enjoying the calm after his training. Ami and Iris exchanged glances before accepting his decision.

Soon, the three of them were sitting shoulder to shoulder against the rock, their breathing soft and synchronized.