In that case, even Lord Hokage probably wouldn't say anything.
The two Hyūga Chūnin had a simple mission: strictly carry out the task assigned to them by the elders. It never occurred to them that if something went wrong, they might be offered up as scapegoats to placate the Third Hokage once the operation was over.
"So, in the end, it all comes down to strength," Kawaki Aoba muttered, exhaling sharply. In a blur, he used the Body Flicker Technique to evade the pair's Gentle Fist strikes.
Aoba weaved back and forth with speed-enhanced footwork, keeping a careful distance from his own doorstep while the two Hyūga pursued him relentlessly. But after retreating far enough, a sly smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Alright… these battle traces now clearly show that you attacked first."
Whether it was an unprovoked assault or self-defense mattered a great deal to Kawaki Aoba, especially while he was still relatively weak. Now that he'd set the stage, the next step was to properly deal with these two loyal lapdogs of the Hyūga clan.
"Hadō No. 4: Byakurai—Pale Lightning."
His lips curled in satisfaction. As a transmigrator, how could he not come with a standard-issue cheat?
A sharp crackle burst from his fingertips. Lightning hissed through the air—no, tore through it. The white beam of energy struck one of the Hyūga cleanly with blistering speed.
This low-level Kidō, originally from another world, had been adapted to run on chakra. It was one of the few skills granted by Aoba's golden finger. Power-wise, it was roughly equivalent to a C-rank Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu.
But unlike that flashy, slow-moving jutsu that almost never hit anything, Pale Lightning was faster, didn't require hand seals, and hit hard enough to interrupt movement. Against melee specialists like these two, it was the perfect counter.
Yes, he was absolutely talking about the pair in front of him.
"You bastard! Not only do you disobey the elders' orders—you dare to attack us?" the Hyūga Chūnin growled, barely recovering from the lightning strike. "You deserve to die!"
Admittedly, Byakurai wasn't perfect. While it could momentarily disrupt the enemy's flow, abandoning the chant to speed up the cast weakened its power considerably. Still, for fights like this—non-lethal, low-risk—he had time to toy with them.
"Heh. What do you mean by disobeying superiors?" Aoba scoffed. "As a proud civilian ninja of Konoha, the only leader I recognize is Lord Hokage. Since when did the Hyūga clan take over?"
He tilted his head mockingly. "Did the clan inherit the Hokage title while I wasn't looking? Should I go double-check with the Hokage's office?"
His words elevated him onto the moral high ground while throwing shade at both the Hyūga grunts and the elders behind them. Predictably, it worked—they were fuming.
Infuriated, the two Hyūga attacked with renewed aggression. Their Gentle Fist technique was indeed sharp, their chakra control smooth. With his current abilities, Aoba couldn't possibly win in close combat against both.
But he didn't need to.
He wasn't a taijutsu ninja—and he had no intention of playing by their rules.
"Hadō No. 4: Byakurai. Byakurai. Byakurai!"
Dodging with Body Flicker Technique, Aoba stayed just out of reach. Each time he widened the gap, he would toss a flash of Pale Lightning over his shoulder, forcing the Hyūga to scatter or risk another hit. They were catching on, though. Now, each time his hand lifted, they dodged preemptively.
It was working. Though the strikes were weaker without the incantation, repeated lightning hits were adding up. Burn marks streaked their flak jackets, and their skin looked slightly scorched—if they kept this up, they might be mistaken for spies from the Hidden Cloud.
"Damn brat! Do you only know how to run?" one yelled. "If you're truly Hyūga by blood, fight us head-on with honor!"
Aoba gave him a look that screamed: Are you stupid?
Honor? I'm a ninja.
If I can hide in the shadows and stab you in the back, that's considered a good day.
Go ask Naruto Uzumaki if he ever fought fair before the war.
His derisive stare said it all.
The Chūnin who had shouted flushed with a mix of shame and fury. But his comrade remained calm and adjusted the plan.
"Forget talking. He's stalling. Fine, let's stall too," he said, deactivating his Byakugan. "Let's see how much chakra a fresh Genin has to burn."
The second Hyūga followed suit, turning off his dōjutsu to conserve chakra. Their goal shifted from capture to attrition: tire Kawaki Aoba out and finish him once he collapsed.
Aoba narrowed his eyes.
So, they wanted to drag this out?
Fine.
He was the one with the cheat, after all. If it came down to a test of endurance, he'd make them understand what it meant to face someone with Chakra Ton levels of chakra.
The battle remained deadlocked: one evading, two chasing.
But soon, the scales would tip.
And when they did, those two Chūnin would come to regret ever being pawns in someone else's game.
The two Hyūga Chūnin had to carefully exhaust Kawaki Aoba's chakra while preventing him from fleeing into crowded areas where he could draw unwanted attention. It was a technical and sensitive task.
As the battle dragged on, the advantage gradually shifted toward the Hyūga pair, just as they had hoped.
"Heh, just as I thought—a fresh academy graduate. How much chakra could you possibly have at your age?" one of them sneered. Classic psychological warfare—dirty, but effective.
This time, however, Kawaki Aoba didn't stay silent.
"Heh. Is this how the Hyūga clan's shinobi operate? Resorting to cheap tactics just to suppress a Genin who graduated a year ago? How pathetic. You call that refined Gentle Fist combat?"
He narrowed his eyes, voice dipping into mockery.
"Oh, wait—you're branch family, aren't you? Loyal lapdogs raised to serve the main house. No wonder you never learned the true essence of the Gentle Fist. Honestly, I shouldn't even call you shinobi… ninja-dogs suits you better."
Capture Alive.
When it came to provoking others and messing with their heads, Kawaki Aoba considered himself unmatched.
His words hit their mark. The two Hyūga Chūnin flared with rage, as if Aoba had stomped on their old wounds—wounds buried beneath years of silent resentment.
"You little punk… you'll pay for that."
"Our mission is to bring you back alive, but no one said we had to bring you back in one piece. You're nearly out of chakra—get ready to crawl through hell."
Kawaki Aoba's use of White Lightning—a Ghost-style ninjutsu—began to wane, which only excited the two Hyūga. They picked up the pace, sensing the end was near.
Both were thinking the same thing: once they subdued him, they'd make this brat regret ever speaking.
Despite his dwindling chakra, Aoba remained composed. His smirk never faded.
"No rebuttal? Then you admit it—you really are ninja-dogs."
"Bastard—"
"Shut your mouth!"
Their hatred surged again, yet neither could bring themselves to deny the insult. In a way, that only proved Aoba's point.
Then, in a blur of motion, Kawaki Aoba used the Body Flicker Technique and created distance between them.
"Not good—he's escaping!" one of them shouted instinctively.
But they were wrong.
Instead of fleeing, Aoba stood confidently and pulled a small tube filled with blue liquid from his pouch. With one swift motion, he drank it.
"Ah… been fighting so long, I got thirsty. Hope you don't mind if I enjoy a little something special," he said with a smirk, slipping the empty vial back into his tool bag—or rather, into the hidden storage space of his mysterious system.
What he drank wasn't juice, of course. It was a blue potion—a chakra recovery item straight from the world of gaming.
Aoba didn't have monstrous chakra reserves, but with potions like these, he could exhaust even elite opponents. While others relied on physical and mental endurance, Aoba had something better: consumables.
As he stretched his arms, he thought smugly, "I could do this all day."
The two Hyūga were quick to notice something was wrong.
"His chakra's back? That liquid—it had to be a chakra-restoration agent, like a soldier pill."
"We can't drag this out. Who knows how many of those he has on him."
Opening their Byakugan, they confirmed the worst: Aoba's chakra system was full again.
Their expressions hardened. They adjusted their tactics—no more restraint. They would end the fight quickly, even if it meant injury.
But Kawaki Aoba wasn't about to let them take control.
"So, you're ready to go all out? Fine. Bring it."
As they flared their chakra and activated their own secret techniques, Aoba responded in kind.
In a burst of motion, he vanished—reappearing with a speed far beyond a standard Body Flicker Technique.
"What the—?!"
"How is he this fast?!"
Light Body Technique, he thought. I merged it into Body Flicker—took me months and a hell of a lot of pain to get right.
The modified Body Flicker boosted his speed dramatically, but the price was high: each use damaged his body. If overused, it could even cause permanent harm.
Still, Aoba had no fear. After all, he didn't just carry blue potions—he carried red ones too.
With chakra recovery, bodily regeneration, high-speed mobility, and Ghost-style ninjutsu like White Lightning, he had full control over the battlefield.
The flickering continued—strike after strike. White Lightning arced across the air again and again, paralyzing his opponents with each hit.
By the time Kawaki Aoba emptied another blue potion and a red one, the two Hyūga were exhausted, broken, and barely conscious.
Their bodies were scorched and twitching—more from paralysis than burns. As a lower-grade Ghost Technique, White Lightning wasn't lethal. Its purpose was disruption, not destruction. And yet, because they had chakra-enhanced bodies, the intended paralysis was heavily diminished—leaving damage that was more physical than spiritual.
A fluke? Maybe. But Aoba didn't care.
As for why they hadn't retreated despite their injuries?
That's the Hyūga clan's pride—and their curse.