Host: Uzumaki NarutoIdentity: Son of the Fourth Hokage, orphan of the Uzumaki Clan, Nine-Tails Jinchūriki.Designation: Child of Destiny.Title: Protagonist.
Current Attributes:
Strength: 58 (Average adult: 10)
Speed: 49 (Average adult: 10)
Mental Power: 49 (Average adult: 8)
Chakra: 7,500 (Average Genin: 100 / Chūnin: 1,000 / Jōnin: 10,000)
Unlocked Abilities (Rikudō Shingon Interface)
Shinra Domain – A movement technique that allows the host to traverse short distances instantly. Current range: 2 meters. Next upgrade requires 100 Spirit Reserves.
Ten'gan – Perceives the life and emotion of all beings within 50 meters. Next upgrade: 10 Spirit Reserves.
Ten'on– Detects every sound and whisper within 50 meters. Next upgrade: 10 Spirit Reserves.
Ten'mon – Reads the karmic thread and destiny of another being of equal or lesser strength. Next upgrade: 10 Spirit Reserves.
Kyōmetsu – Slightly surpasses mortal limits, granting an extra 10 years of vitality. Can siphon or share life essence with others. Next upgrade: 10 Spirit Reserves.
Spirit Reserves: 7 remaining.
Known Techniques:Substitution Jutsu, Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu, Fire Style: Dragon Flame Jutsu, Shadow Clone Jutsu, Body Flicker, Illusionary Mist Servant, Crash Fist.
Weapons: Kunai, Shuriken.
Tailed Beast State: Nine-Tails Form (Stage 1–2 accessible). Strength doubles, but emotional corruption risk is high.
Naruto eyed his stat board floating in midair like some divine prank from the Rikudō Shingon itself. His physical strength was nearing sixty—his mental power, nearly fifty. It felt good. Almost unfair. Even the so-called prodigies of the war era would've sweated to keep up.
Still, that fantasy was only nice in theory. War eras made legends fast—and corpses even faster. Most "rising stars" didn't rise for long.
He clenched his fists. "Crash Fist."
Boom.
The sound tore through the training ground. A tree as thick as Iruka's patience split clean down the middle. The wood cracked and groaned before collapsing with a deep, earthy thud.
Naruto blew out a breath and flexed his fingers, satisfied."Yeah… this one's working."
He'd built Crash Fist himself—an idea inspired by some ancient hand-to-hand principles he'd once stumbled upon during his "accidental" net browsing. Something about Bruce-someone's one-inch punch. Short motion, high power. Instant impact. No wasted energy.
Naruto had simplified it into four ideals:Simplicity. Flow. Momentum. Ferocity.
Simple meant cutting useless movements.Flow meant mastering precision through instinct.Momentum meant harnessing one's will to overwhelm.Ferocity meant attacking like a storm, no mercy, no pause.
Crash Fist wasn't about scattering energy like Tsunade's monstrous punches. Hers broke landscapes. His broke targets. Concentrated. Surgical. If he ever pushed this to perfection, even a boulder wouldn't survive a single blow.
Not that he used it in school sparring matches. It wasn't fair to bring artillery to a knife fight.
His "friendly" battles with Sasuke weren't really friendly—more like silent duels of pride. They didn't talk much, but both understood something wordless: growth through conflict. When Sasuke saw Naruto's relentless training after the Uchiha massacre, something in him clicked. Rivalry turned into an unspoken pact.
And Naruto… he didn't need to use half his power in those fights.If he wanted, Ten'gan could see Sasuke's every intent.Ten'on could hear the smallest twitch of muscle before a strike.Ten'mon could predict every move he'd make.A simple Shinra shift could end it instantly.
But Naruto never did. Not once.
Because fighting Sasuke wasn't about victory—it was about sharpening the blade of his own soul.
After all, a rival wasn't someone you crushed.It was someone who reminded you not to stagnate.