“What an interesting little guy. I’ve already heard all about you—Tsunade’s been bragging nonstop these past few days about her new friend.”

  Across from Kaya Shihōin stood a dark-haired ninja who, despite his title, didn’t look particurly old. He spoke in a warm, booming voice that radiated cheerfulness.

  “Um…”

  It was Kaya’s first time seeing the First Hokage up close. A ripple of excitement stirred in his chest, and he wasn’t quite sure what to say.

  So this is the strongest man of his era… Kaya thought to himself.

  Compared to Madara, who oozed dominance and aura no matter the angle, the First Hokage seemed more like a kind and approachable grandpa. But even so, if one paid close attention, they could still feel a presence as vast and immovable as a mountain.

  Just as Kaya was silently reevaluating his impressions of the legendary ninja, Hashirama’s next words completely upended his image.

  “Wanna gamble a bit?” Hashirama beamed at him.

  “Huh?”

  Before Kaya could even react, the First continued, “Tsunade told me all about you. This is the first time I’ve met someone whose luck’s as awful as ours.”

  “Uh…”

  Kaya stared in silence. Honestly, he’d long known that the First Hokage had a goofy side, but witnessing it firsthand like this still shattered his expectations.

  If he hadn’t read up on Hashirama beforehand, he might’ve seriously doubted how someone with this kind of eccentric personality ever became Hokage.

  Moments ter, the gambling began.

  Never in his wildest dreams did Kaya expect that his first interaction with the First Hokage would start with rolling dice.

  Still… gambling with the First Hokage? That’s the kind of thing you could brag about for life.

  Ctter!

  As the dice cup rattled in Kaya’s hands, the result was—unsurprisingly—three ones.

  At this point, he was already used to this level of tragic luck.

  Opposite him, Hashirama shook the dice with comically exaggerated focus… only to also nd three ones.

  “Haha! See, Kaya? Didn’t I tell you? You and my grandfather have the same terrible luck!” Tsunade chirped, her eyes curving into mischievous crescent moons as she giggled at the absurd match.

  Hashirama ughed heartily, clearly enjoying himself.

  Kaya, however, was struck by a sudden thought.

  System, does the First Hokage really have the same terrible gambling luck as Tsunade?

  “No. Overall, the First Hokage is actually far luckier than most people. Even in gambling, he’s only slightly below average.”

  Thought so…

  Kaya wasn’t some naive little girl. He wasn’t about to take Hashirama at his word.

  Someone with gambling luck as catastrophically bad as Tsunade was one in a million. And yet she’d said her grandpa and great-uncle—the First and Second Hokage—never managed to beat her.

  The truth was obvious: the two old men had been throwing their matches on purpose. Probably just to make the little Tsunade happy.

  And that… might just be what led her down the path of gambling addiction in the first pce.

  Before long, Tsunade joined the fray.

  And just as quickly, both Kaya and Hashirama were cleaned out by her fwless streak.

  “Ahh, tough luck today,” Hashirama sighed, feigning disappointment. Then his gaze slid over to Kaya.

  “No more gambling. Since we’ve got time, how about I give you some pointers?”

  “Huh?”

  Kaya froze.

  But Hashirama just smiled, eyes gleaming with warmth. “With my skill level, teaching a kid like you shouldn’t be too hard.”

  Behind him, Tsunade fshed Kaya a victorious thumbs-up. No doubt about it—this unexpected offer was all thanks to her.

  A few moments ter, the group arrived in a nearby forest.

  “Alright,” Hashirama said, loosening up his shoulders. “Come at me. I want to see your taijutsu. Don’t hold back—you won’t hurt me.”

  “Got it.”

  Kaya nodded seriously, then unched himself into action without hesitation.

  Truthfully, he didn’t think any amount of training—even from the First Hokage—could compensate for his subpar talent, not without help from his system. Still, it couldn’t hurt to try.

  Thud! Thud-thud!

  Kaya attacked with everything he had. Hashirama, meanwhile, blocked every strike effortlessly, his calm gaze never leaving Kaya’s form.

  This kid’s talent is… a bit cking… the First thought silently.

  And that was already him being generous. Kaya had only recently acquired his system and hadn’t had the chance to truly power up yet. From a raw potential standpoint, “a bit cking” was putting it mildly.

  Eventually, Kaya couldn’t resist testing a new move.

  “Leaf Dance!”

  Shhh—!

  In a fsh, his figure vanished, zipping around Hashirama like a whirlwind. After a flurry of rapid strikes, Kaya dropped low to the ground, hands supporting his weight as he unched a twin-footed kick straight for Hashirama’s chin.

  WHAM!

  The blow nded clean. Hashirama’s body shot into the air—only to dissolve into a log mid-flight.

  “Ha! Nice! That was a damn good move,” Hashirama cpped, eyes shining with genuine praise.

  In terms of overall strength, Kaya still had a long way to go. But this move—this one move—was damn near fwless.

  It wasn’t just the technique itself. It was the timing, the way he controlled his bursts of speed, the subtle shifts in momentum. The execution was polished to perfection.

  This was the Leaf Dance—the signature opener of Might Guy and Rock Lee’s fighting style. Every advanced move they used—Reverse Lotus, Primary Lotus—they all stemmed from this foundational step. You could say it was the very soul of their combo chain.

  And what Kaya had demonstrated was system-grade perfection.

  “Your strength may still be developing,” Hashirama said, “but your instincts and your grasp of that move are seriously impressive. Even I can’t find much to criticize.”

  The First Hokage’s eyes gleamed with newfound appreciation.

  “To perform that technique so cleanly… you must’ve gone through hell training for it,” he said kindly.

  Kaya scratched his head, awkwardly smiling. In the end, he nodded.

  Truth was, he hadn’t really suffered much at all. Sure, he’d trained, but nowhere near the level of hardship Hashirama was imagining. The system had handed him the skill practically ready-to-use, and honestly, he barely even understood why it worked so well.

  Still, how could he say that out loud? Oh, no big deal—I’m just a prodigy, wasn’t exactly a great look.

  So he simply nodded and let the First believe whatever he wanted.

  Hashirama chuckled softly and nodded back.

  “Hard-working kids like you are always worth helping,” he said.

  Then, casting a gnce at Tsunade—who was grinning and winking from the sidelines—he suddenly ughed.

  “Originally, I was pnning to teach you a basic C-rank jutsu. But now… I think you deserve something a bit more fitting for your effort.”

  “A B-rank technique should do just fine.”