Moonlight silvered the dark woods, the rush of a nearby stream drowning out the forest's nocturnal hum.
A man stumbled from the shadows, gasping in jagged bursts.
He spat blood into the dirt, glancing frantically over his shoulder. "Damn it! I didn't know we were hunting a monster in disguise."
The faint whistle sliced the air.
"Argh!"
A kunai slammed into his leg, pinning him as blood soaked his torn pants.
A dark-skinned boy emerged, his crimson eyes gleaming with a heavy, suffocating confidence. He looked down at the man's pained gasps. "Talk. Who sent you, and what's my price?"
The man choked, the air around him thickening. "I... I was just a test! I don't know the client, but your head is worth two million Ryō!"
The boy smirked, a chilling boredom settling over him. "Money to burn, I guess. Thanks for the info. Goodbye."
"NO! WAIT!"
Lightning Spear Thrust!
A hand wreathed in crackling electricity drove through the man's chest. He jerked, squirming as the current scorched his insides. He stared up with glassy, disbelieving eyes, meeting only the boy's freezing indifference. It was an image that would haunt his soul even in the afterlife.
The boy stood over the corpse. A bitter weight settled in his chest, but survival offered no second chances. Warm liquid pulsed down his arms, the nauseating metallic scent heavy in the air. His small frame remained still, bathed in a mercurial glow as the woods fell silent.
Along with the scent of petrichor, he took a deep breath as his soul washed over him with an otherworldly chill. Like a cradle into a mother's embrace, he stood upright. He kept his eyes shut, savoring the sensation as it dampened into his entire physique.
Yoichi snapped back to reality. He opened his eyes, and his hands began to work with clinical precision. He didn't see a human; he saw a resource.
The overblown vest was stripped for its reinforced plating; the tainted pants were checked for hidden compartments.
Vials of poison and rusted kunai were swept into his Space Pouch.
The man's body was left bare.
A pale monument to a failed gamble.
Already, the nocturnal hum of the forest returned. Insects landed over the corpse as if a sumptuous feast was a god's blessing.
Yoichi watched them for a heartbeat, his mind already calculating the decay rate in this humidity.
Nature is the ultimate recycler, he mused. No waste. I should strive for the same.
His martial prowess was the result of a rational mind navigating a chaotic roulette.
He had gambled his twelve Year One tickets wisely. 4 Qi Blood Pills had bolstered his vitality, pushing his training beyond human limits.
To further his Martial Arts, he had secured 3 Blood Ganoderma Ointments and 3 sets of Crimson Orchid Powder, using the rare medicinal properties of both to temper his body.
Every resource was a calculated win from the system, turning chance into raw, lethal power.
The remainder of his spoils such as herbs, ores, and tools were set aside, reserved for strategic deployment in his future projects.
[Realm: Muscle Tempering Realm(Peak)]
[Heavenly Demon Posture: (Perfection) 305/1000] (+178)
[Mountain Crushing Fist: (Great Success) 463/500] (+384)
[Lightning Spear Thrust: (Great Success) 454/500] (+406)
[Phantom Steps: (Great Success) 480/500] (+382)
[Secret Technique: Face Changing (Great Success) 20/500] (+191)
[Tickets: 1 Prismatic, 2 Gold, 12 Silver.]
[Attributes]
「Charm: 11」
「Soul Power: 45」
Thanks to his tremendous improvement, Yoichi's Face Changing had evolved into a near-perfect mimicry; he no longer just looked like his target, he became them.
The rigorous cycle of his training had pushed his other techniques to a point of near-flawless efficiency. It was no longer about simply performing the moves; his body had developed a deep, intuitive mastery where every strike and seal felt as natural as breathing. The immense benefits of this refinement allowed him to execute complex maneuvers with a precision that eliminated all wasted motion.
The classification was complete. From the smallest insect to the apex predator, Yoichi had consumed them all. His spirit now pressed against the boundary of the world, leaving the souls of humans as the only remaining path to spiritual ascension.
Despite his power, the spiritual overload was a constant bombardment. The rustle of a leaf felt like a landslide; the chirp of a cricket echoed like a scream.
To the world, he was a genius; to his own senses, he was being tortured by a thousand useless details.
To survive, Yoichi developed the "Spirit Aperture."
He visualized his mind as a professional kitchen amidst a lunch rush.
Before, he was drowning in the clatter of pans and the jeers of the staff.
Now, he became the master chef.
With a mental flick, he shuttered the windows of his perception.
The chaos didn't disappear, it was simply partitioned.
He could now tune out the symphony of the forest to focus entirely on the single, rhythmic heartbeat of a hidden enemy.
His physical evolution was as terrifying as his spiritual one.
Yoichi's striking force had reached 1,220 jins, a staggering 732 KG of raw leverage.
He didn't need chakra to shatter bone; his muscles alone packed the weight of a falling boulder.
With his Spirit Aperture filtering out the world's noise and his body tempered to peak density, he was no longer a child playing at being a ninja.
He was a precision instrument of death.
Yoichi unlocked the first three of the Eight Inner Gates. Each heavy-duty step caused the thick branches to creak, leaving faint indents in the bark, accompanied by the constant rattle of the weights on his limbs.
"Away from sight, stay on mind." A soft sigh escaped from his lips and with a sharp stomp, he blitzed through the terrain.
A reminder of his best friend's sacrifice and his mother's situation crossed his mind. Yet these things were his motivation, a rational human couldn't be inflexible, he's a child with imperfections as a human after all.
He entered the village, and the illuminated streets immediately livened up the atmosphere. The chilly breeze of the upcoming winter wafted through the alleys. It did not silence the cacophony of the crowd or the gossiping tongues in the market.
Through his Spirit Aperture, Yoichi processed the chaos.
The sizzle of fat on a grill three streets away was crisp to his ears.
He smelled the faint, chemical scent of medicinal herbs from a nearby clinic.
Every sound was a data point to be sorted.
He ignored the laughter of a group of drunk shinobi, focusing instead on the steady heartbeat of the guards at the main gate.
This was his reality.
The world was a mess of information, and he was the filter.
Before Yoichi could enjoy the jovial mood, His feet carried him there without a conscious thought. The air around the towering building was bleak. A cold, ghostly glow of the moonlight shone on the walls.
He paid close attention to the rhythmic heartbeats and the warm breathing of the hidden guards.
Their eyes scanned his every movement like sharp knives.
He counted four distinct signatures on the rooftops and two more near the entrance.
They were motionless, like statues carved from ice. Yoichi did not change his pace. He maintained his calm, gentle expression, even as the weight of their collective gaze pressed against his skin.
To them, he was a child returning from a task.
To him, they were obstacles to be measured and noted.
A heavy thud rang, wooden floor groaned. He knocked loudly, signaling his return from his completed mission.
"Hokage-sama. I'm here to report my mission." His voice was gentle, a stark contrast to his cold countenance.
"The door's open. Come on in."
A dry, hacking rasp followed the validation.
Yoichi slid the door open; through his Soul Aperture, he maintained an efficient equilibrium, masking his immense weight with perfect physical control.
A mixed scent of ink and a strong tobacco enfolded him. The desk was in the state of chaos, scrolls and reports piled like an oppressive force. A youthful figure sat down, dressed in a white cape and the symbolic red hat. The glare from lamp created a contorted, long shadow on the walls filled with portraits of the founders.
Hiruzen puffed his pipe, his eyes traveling from Yoichi's steady feet up to his squared shoulder. He nodded.
Hiruzen puffed his pipe, and his eyes traveled from Yoichi's steady feet up to his squared shoulders. He nodded slowly.
"Still at it, I see," he said. His eyes narrowed, drifting to the faint marks on the floor that betrayed Yoichi's immense physical density.
The smoke billowed from his mouth, gray and heavy in the dim light.
"Do you have a detailed assessment of the route," he asked.
His tone was not just curious, it was the tone of a commander looking for a weakness in his walls.
"The merchants arrived at their destination without a single deviation from the schedule," Yoichi replied. His voice was clean, devoid of any stuttering or hesitation. "The current situation in the Land of Grass remains quiet. No figures of significant power appeared, and the travel was as smooth as butter."
Yoichi maintained a gentle expression, masking the cold reality of the dead assassin in the woods. To him, the truth was a resource to be rationed. He provided the Hokage with the logical outcome of a successful escort, keeping the details of his own martial evolution hidden behind a mask of youthful competence.
"Glad to hear that..." Hiruzen exhaled a thick smoke from his mouth. "Very well. Take the reward and have a rest for the night."
The sound of smooth slide resounded through the room. Hiruzen reached out into an unknown compartment beneath the desk as a thump rang, revealing the scroll and placing it before Yoichi. His gaze rested on Yoichi, glimmering with concerns and pity.
"You can't be pushing yourself this hard as always."
Hiruzen sighed, a sound that seemed to age him by a decade. "Take the payment and go home," he commanded. "Do not let me see you in this office until you have had a full night of sleep. That is an order."
A strong scent of smoke wafted towards Yoichi and his mouth curled upwards. "I understand. Hokage-sama. I'll take my leave now."
In a blink of the eye, Yoichi disappeared. The floor groaned and the heavy thrum of his footsteps rang. With a single lunge, he vanished into the streets, his strides eating up the distance to his home.
"Do you really have to show off?" Hiruzen let out a soft sigh as the glaring notches on the wooden floor were apparent, his head drooped low and shook.
He swiveled his chair toward the window, cupping his chin as the latest intel looped through his thoughts. The edges of the report were crinkled where his grip had tightened.
Third Raikage... What are you actually planning?
Yoichi's House — 10 PM, November.
Yoichi was too tired to bother. The casual attire that had always been his trademark was scattered across the floor in a chaotic trail. He stripped off his remaining clothes, changed into a comfy set of pajamas, and collapsed onto his bed.
A problem for tonight; a solution for tomorrow.
______________
Thanks for Daemonic_Dragon and doomslayer24 for power stones!
I'll try and reach the 1.5K word count with this new set of my learning curve. Even if you do not believe me that I'm taking advice from an A.I. It's fine XDD!