So, this is what it had all come down to. The ninja world was being reduced to ignorant fools, stupid amateurs, and lazy jerks. Jounin strove to gain as much power as possible while completely disregarding the youth of their villages who desperately needed training from a knowledgeable elder. A vast majority of all Genin hoped to magically gain power out of nowhere, not wanting to work or try for such things. Bakamaru had trained his entire life with a single basic technique, yet he had become a Jounin level shinobi and had saved many lives. Too many believed that power and status meant extremely complex forbidden jutsu and powerful bloodline limits so that nobody needed to try or express any form of talent. It was a view on life that Bakamaru was sick of, and he swore that he would make sure his new Genin team would never be that lazy or hopeful of achieving what they do not try for. He was leaning against a tree in a wooded area, with only a small clearing about twenty meters in diameter, arms crossed over his chest. It was seven-fifty-five, and the team was scheduled to arrive at eight. Their timing would likely be the first lesson they would learn and never forget, even on the first day of meeting one another.