Absolutely no under-the-table dealings will be tolerated!

Yes.

Kisame wasn’t just interested in acquiring all kinds of poisons and antidotes; he was particularly keen on biological toxins that could be implanted into the body. For example, Aburame Torune’s nano-scale venomous insects were practically a bug in the system—just a touch was enough to kill an enemy instantly. Even Obito, with the invincible power of Kamui, had lost an arm to them through a moment’s carelessness.

There was also Hanzō’s poison sac from the salamander inside his body. If the opportunity arose, Kisame wouldn’t hesitate to obtain one and transplant it into himself. With his physical resilience, he could withstand toxin corrosion to some extent—perhaps even more so than Hanzō himself—and might be able to unleash the full potential of the salamander’s venom.

In short, to become stronger, Kisame, much like Orochimaru, didn’t mind using his own body for experimentation. After all, he’d long been prepared to abandon his humanity.

The next day.

The preliminary round of the third exam was held at Training Ground Four in the Hidden Leaf Village. The proctor for this match was a sunny, blond young man—cheerful and handsome in appearance. His name was Minato Namikaze, a peer of Inoichi Yamanaka and Kushina Uzumaki, and the third round’s chief examiner personally appointed by the Third Hokage.

Kisame kept a low profile and passed the selection smoothly.

In the final eight, there were two from the Hidden Cloud, two from the Hidden Mist, and four from the Hidden Leaf, who made up half the spots. After all, they were the hosts.

The four Genin from the Leaf who advanced were Obito Uchiha, Shizune, Ibiki Morino, and Mizuki.

“Congratulations to all of you for standing out among all the participants in this Chunin Exam. Please gather at the arena tomorrow for the final showdown,” Minato said, his gaze sweeping over the eight Genin with a bright, gentle smile.

As soon as he finished speaking, he formed a seal with one hand and vanished into thin air right in front of everyone.

Witnessing this, Kisame’s pupils contracted, his already small eyes narrowing further.

The Flying Thunder God Technique.

During the Third Great Ninja War in the original story, Minato used this jutsu to annihilate fifty Jonin from the Hidden Stone in an instant—an almost absurd feat.

In the world of the Hokage, characters like Minato Namikaze, endowed with a protagonist’s aura, could bend the rules at will. If one were to encounter such an opponent on the battlefield, what could be done? Was fleeing really the only option?

As Kisame pondered this, a loud, provocative voice suddenly rang in his ear.

“Kisame Hoshigaki, you’d better pray you don’t face me in the quarter-finals tomorrow. The humiliation of that day—I, Obito Uchiha, will repay you tenfold!”

Obito strode up to Kisame, pointing a finger right at his face and issuing his threat.

Kisame couldn’t be bothered to argue and replied indifferently, “You’d better hope you don’t run into me before the final. That way, you might at least get second place—if you even make it that far.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked off, leaving Obito fuming behind him, yelling and waving his fists in frustration.

The next day.

As the day of the finals arrived, the stands at the Chunin Exam arena were packed with a sea of people, bustling with excitement. Even more spectators flooded the surrounding streets, all hurrying toward the venue.

Kakashi was among them.

He had just visited Might Guy at Konoha Hospital. Guy was still unconscious, his entire skin turned red, and his hair standing on end in a strange style. The doctors were at their wits’ end with this bizarre condition.

Kakashi had made some inquiries and was convinced that Kisame Hoshigaki was responsible for Guy’s current state.

That bastard.

Kakashi’s reasons for attending the Chunin Exams were twofold: he’d been invited by Rin Nohara, and his teammate Obito Uchiha was a quarter-finalist. But more than anything, Kakashi cared about Kisame Hoshigaki.

He wanted to use this opportunity to reevaluate that man’s true strength.

As he walked, Kakashi’s stomach suddenly growled, reminding him he’d skipped breakfast. Orphaned since childhood, he lived alone and rarely cooked, usually grabbing meals at diners or small shops.

But now, with an injury to his backside, he couldn’t enjoy his usual favorites—miso eggplant, salted grilled saury, ramen. He was restricted to liquids and soft foods.

Scanning the area, Kakashi spotted a fruit stand brimming with fresh produce. He approached the vendor and said, “A fruit juice, please.”

“Just a moment,” the vendor replied, grabbing a large glass and skillfully mixing a variety of fresh fruits and seasonings in a complex, dazzling display.

Throughout the process, Kakashi watched intensely, not blinking once as he monitored every movement.

Suddenly, the vendor ducked below the counter with the cup, seemingly adding some secret ingredient.

Kakashi’s brow furrowed instantly and he barked, “Bring it up! Let me see what you’re adding—no shady business allowed!”

Startled, the vendor quickly brought the cup back up, eyeing Kakashi with suspicion and fear. Was this white-haired young ninja from the village’s food safety bureau?

Ever since being tricked by Kisame, Kakashi had developed a serious psychological scar. Now, whenever he ate outside, he demanded total transparency from preparation to serving—otherwise, he wouldn’t touch the food.

Once bitten, twice shy.

But if there was a silver lining, it was this: from now on, nobody would ever be able to poison or drug Kakashi’s food without his knowing.

After finishing his fruit juice, Kakashi arrived at the arena.

“Kakashi, over here!” Rin waved from one of the front rows, her smile sweet and inviting.

As Kakashi joined her, he saw that Not only Rin, but also Genma Shiranui, Ebisu, and Suzumebachi—all Genin from the Leaf who had been eliminated—had come to watch the matches.

Beside Kakashi’s seat, Asuma sat with one leg crossed, openly smoking in public and perfectly embodying the delinquent persona.

Like Kakashi, Asuma was also a victim of Kisame’s unrestricted taijutsu. Though the injury to his mouth had mostly healed, he was left with a lingering psychological trauma.

Now, before lighting a cigarette, Asuma would turn it over and inspect it from every angle, making sure there were no firecrackers hidden inside before daring to light up.

“Hey, Kakashi, you’re here for that shark-faced Kisame too, aren’t you? I heard you lost to him,” Asuma called out with a cold laugh. “I want to see for myself—once that dead-fish-eyed guy can’t use any of his dirty tricks, how much strength does he really have left?”

Twice in alleys and restrooms, Asuma had been defeated by Kisame, but he still believed that Kisame was only good at ambushes in tight spaces. In the open arena of the Chunin Exams, with both sides going head-to-head in a fair fight, Kisame’s strength would surely be greatly diminished—perhaps even exposed for what it truly was.