That Day When Suzuki-kun Wasn't the Mob-B!

Suzuki had to admit that spending these past few weeks outside the village with Tsunade had been surprisingly comfortable.

In Konoha, he was constantly on edge, his nerves pulled taut by the invisible political threats lurking in the dark. But here? Life was peaceful. Some might argue that traveling outside the hidden village was more dangerous, but that logic only applied to defenseless civilians. He was a ninja, an evolving prodigy, and the personal disciple of the Third Hokage.

More importantly, there was no Danzo out here!

As long as the bandaged, war-mongering cockroach was miles away, the air just felt cleaner. If Danzo had simply dropped dead, Suzuki’s life would be perfectly stress-free. But he knew Danzo’s tenacity was legendary. Even if someone managed to ”kill” him, the old man had hoarded enough stolen, unique abilities to cheat death multiple times, making him a deeply frustrating opponent.

Furthermore, Danzo was Hiruzen’s oldest friend. If Hiruzen was forced to choose between a twelve-year-old disciple and his lifelong shadow, Suzuki was painfully aware of who the Hokage would pick.

But honestly, Suzuki wasn’t too worried. Danzo wouldn’t dare mess with him right now.

In Danzo’s twisted mind, anyone without a legendary bloodline was basically disposable trash. Even if Suzuki eventually grew as powerful as the Fourth Hokage—the ultimate civilian-born orphan who rose to the top through pure intellect—Danzo wouldn’t try to steal his secrets.

Why? Because Danzo knew his own limits. He wasn’t a genius. The only way Danzo could grow stronger was by physically robbing the genetic powers of others, like stealing the First Hokage’s wood cells or ripping the Sharingan out of Uchiha eye sockets.

Danzo couldn’t steal Hiruzen’s theoretical mastery of chakra, nor could he steal Minato’s teleportation formula, because even if he stole the scrolls, his brain wasn’t wired to understand them. Suzuki felt completely secure in his own intellect. Even if he handed Danzo his Universal Source notes, the old man wouldn’t be able to decipher the physics.

Plus, attacking the joint apprentice of both the Third Hokage and the legendary Sannin, Tsunade, would be political suicide. Danzo still desperately wanted to be Hokage. He couldn’t afford that kind of fallout.

So, putting the shadows out of his mind, Suzuki focused on his bright, rather alluring present.

He spent his days in the bustling city, dividing his time between studying medical theory under Tsunade and practicing his physical forms under Yugao.

Tsunade’s teachings were intense, heavily focused on the practical application of Yang Release.

Yang Release was the element of physical energy, vitality, and cellular recovery. If he had to sum it up in a single word, it would be Life.

Scientifically speaking, Yang Release was the forceful manipulation of mitochondrial output, ATP (Adenosine Triphosphate) synthesis, and the mitotic cycle—the process of cell division. Every human cell uses ATP for energy. A Yang Release user essentially hacked their own biology, forcing their mitochondria to produce thousands of times more energy than a normal human.

This insane overabundance of physical energy was exactly how the Akimichi clan physically expanded their body mass, rapidly inflating their cellular volume. It was also how advanced users gained superhuman strength. They weren’t using ”magic” to punch harder; they were forcefully recruiting 100% of their muscle fibers at once—fueled by a violently endless supply of Yang-generated ATP.

And Medical Ninjutsu? It was essentially weaponized biology.

When a medical ninja coated their hands in that warm, glowing green chakra, they were creating a highly concentrated bio-electric field. Applying that field to a wound acted as an extreme biological catalyst. It forced the patient’s body to instantly flood the area with platelets, hyper-accelerating the production of collagen to knit the tissue back together, and forcing local cells into rapid division to replace the missing flesh.

Fortunately, I have the Manager to calculate all these cellular metrics, Suzuki thought, flipping through one of Tsunade’s heavy medical texts.

The baseline medical knowledge in this world was incredibly primitive, often relying more on sheer guts and mystical luck than actual science. It was essentially: Ah! If I push my chakra into this wound, it closes!

Tsunade was the absolute pioneer who had structured this guesswork into a viable medical system. But Suzuki also knew exactly why her development had been so smooth. She had inherited the legacy of her grand-uncle, the Second Hokage, Tobirama Senju. Tobirama had conducted a terrifying amount of dark, unethical research on human corpses and living prisoners—studies that would have definitely gotten him locked away for life in Suzuki’s previous world. But that bloody history laid the foundation for modern anatomical knowledge.

Suzuki was determined to master this medical science.

Through his multiversal connection, the division of labor among his alternate selves was already set. The Jujutsu Kaisen Suzuki was handling Physics. The Solo Leveling Suzuki was mastering Psychology. The Arifureta Suzuki dominated Economics. The Tensura Suzuki was breaking down Linguistics.

And the Maken-Ki Suzuki? Well... considering the famously ”bouncy” nature of that specific world, he was probably focused on Mythology and Folklore, which are branches of Anthropology. At least, that was the academic excuse he used for studying all those incredibly well-endowed heroines.

Therefore, this Suzuki would focus heavily on Medicine and Biology.

However, sitting around reading textbooks all day made the body stiff. He had to put that biological knowledge into physical practice.

And that physical practice was currently providing an incredibly distracting view.

”Your stamina is finally catching up to mine, you know?”

Yugao stood a few paces away, her wooden training sword lowered. Her body was glistening with a slick, alluring sheen of sweat. The intense physical exertion had painted her beautiful face with a deep, rosy flush, and her breathing was heavy and ragged, making her chest rise and fall in a deeply mesmerizing rhythm.

Strands of her long, beautiful purple hair were damp, clinging softly to her damp cheeks, her slender neck, and her collarbones. The tight fit of her training gear, darkened by the sweat, left very little to the imagination, radiating a mature, incredibly tempting heat that was hard to ignore.

Suzuki discreetly swallowed, genuinely appreciating the biological perfection standing in front of him. Being a prodigy was great, but the perks of getting personal, one-on-one sword instruction from a beautiful ANBU kunoichi were definitely a massive bonus.

”You’re improving quickly, Suzuki-kun,” Yugao panted softly, wiping a bead of sweat that trailed down her neck and disappeared into her top. Her dark eyes looked up at him, heavy with the lingering thrill and adrenaline of their spar. She shifted her stance, her hips curving beautifully as she raised her wooden blade again.

”Let’s do it again...” she whispered, her voice breathy and filled with an undeniable, competitive temptation.

Now, don’t be a pervert, Suzuki mentally scolded himself, feeling his own pulse quicken as he raised his sword to match hers. This is strictly professional sword training... right?

As Suzuki tightened his grip on the smooth oak of his wooden sword, his heightened biological awareness completely betrayed him. The potent combination of combat adrenaline, the heavy, heated air between them, and the undeniable allure of the sweating kunoichi triggered a sudden, involuntary spike in his own anatomy.

Despite his best efforts to maintain a perfectly professional, calculated facade, the physical reaction was impossible to hide.

Yugao’s razor-sharp ANBU instincts instantly caught the subtle, awkward shift in his stance. Her dark eyes flicked downward for a fraction of a second before rapidly darting away. A brilliant, fiery blush instantly erupted across her cheeks, traveling all the way down to her damp collarbones.

Suddenly finding the dirt beneath her sandals incredibly fascinating, she slowly lowered her wooden blade. The competitive, teasing fire in her eyes melted into a deeply flustered, entirely adorable embarrassment.

”Perhaps...” she murmured, clearing her throat as she took a step back, nervously tucking a damp strand of purple hair behind her ear. ”Perhaps it would be best if we took a short break... just to let things cool down for a bit.”