His name was Baixing.
He was a half-transmigrator.
As for why it was only "half," that was a very complicated matter.
Inside an ordinary, modest apartment, a black-haired young man lying on the bed slowly opened his eyes—eyes that looked as if they had lived through a second life. He raised his hand and removed the virtual helmet covering his head.
To introduce him again: his name was Baixing, and he was a modern-day human.
Crushed by the cruelty of reality, he had immersed himself in online games—until one day, he activated a fully immersive virtual reality game built around Naruto.
That was when he awakened a system.
From that moment on, he could no longer leave his room. Food would automatically refresh inside it. In practical terms, he didn't need to go outside at all—there was no hunger, no shortage of supplies. It was the ultimate dream of a shut-in.
However, the system had no intelligence and never explained what would happen if he went outside. All he knew was that once he pushed open the door, his "challenge" might fail.
—This was a challenge that determined his future fate.
The game granted only one life.
If he could keep his character alive all the way to the end of Shippuden, he would be given two choices:
First, he could remain in this world and receive a noble black card containing ten billion in fully legal, liquid assets.
Second, he could obtain his character's peak strength and travel to any other world of his choosing—or remain in the Naruto world and continue living there.
Faced with such a challenge, who could possibly refuse?!
If one were to talk about the most ideal world, something like Detective Conan came to mind—everyday life with the occasional surprise, not too boring, yet not apocalyptic either. With combat ability and several extra decades of lifespan, it would be no different from a long vacation.
After all, he had even consumed a Devil Fruit—the Op-Op Fruit—with no weaknesses.
He opened the refrigerator, took out a can of freshly refreshed beer, and drained it in one gulp, enjoying the icy chill. The empty can was tossed into a normal trash bin that automatically cleaned itself. Then he turned on the television.
On the screen, a broadcast showed people bitten by dogs, infected with rabies, attacking passersby on the street.
Of course, this was news from half a month ago.
Yet the television—despite supposedly having no power or signal—was still playing just fine, which alone was proof of how powerful the system was.
He grabbed a handful of sunflower seeds from the snack tray and began eating while thinking about his next step—how to survive to the extreme limit and guarantee a perfect clear.
"I'll accept it."
"Rejecting the Hokage would only break the persona I've carefully built all these years."
Even in an absolutely safe zone, where the game could be paused indefinitely, staying alone for too long could drive someone insane. And then, who knew—one impulsive moment might lead to opening a window or door that had been sealed for a month.
Before all of this, he had just been an ordinary unemployed youth, holed up in a one-bedroom rental apartment, living day to day without purpose.
Then he discovered this game and received the system's warning to keep all doors and windows tightly shut. As a result, he spent an entire month with the air conditioner running nonstop, becoming a complete shut-in. Of course, even without the AC, the room still had airflow and never felt stuffy—though the temperature was clearly influenced by the outside world and could get quite hot at times.
Returning to the bedroom, he lowered his head and glanced at his equipment. Through the transparent glass of the window, he could actually see what was happening outside.
"Hel… help me!"
A dying passerby screamed in Baixing's direction. Instead of rescue, he attracted a swarm of zombies that pounced on him.
Not long after, the sound of cracking glass echoed from the upper floors, followed by violent impacts against a door. A fat man living in that apartment was forced to attempt an escape through the window. He vaguely remembered that the apartment below belonged to that skinny bastard Baixing—if he could jump down there, maybe there'd be plenty of food and clean water, enough to survive.
But the moment he braced himself against the wall and dropped down, he saw a ferocious zombie inside the open window. Terrified, the fat man lost his balance and fell straight into the zombie horde below.
At that moment, Baixing found himself wondering—was he still human, or had he already become a zombie who was simply dreaming?
After all, this wasn't the first time he had scared someone like that.
But thinking about it was pointless. Compared to the end of the world, his priority was to do everything possible to find a way to live. As an ordinary human, survival in such a world was impossible. His only path forward was the "virtual world" inside the helmet—achieving true bodily transmigration.
Time flowed rapidly inside the helmet's "virtual world." Six years there amounted to only half a month in the real world.
And Baixing didn't believe it was merely a virtual space. It might be a parallel world within the Naruto universe—and he was the protagonist of that world. Or perhaps, the troublemaker.
The next morning, all graduating students of the Ninja Academy sat quietly in their classroom, waiting to learn who their future instructors would be.
Some were children of major clans and already knew they'd be led by jōnin. Others were eagerly guessing who their teacher might be—perhaps a Hokage disciple or some famous elite jōnin. But reality soon delivered a harsh blow to these naive boys and girls.
"Team One: Nawaki. Instructor—Orochimaru."
Nawaki lifted his chin, pride written all over his face. The other students, confused as to why Team One consisted of only a single person, began whispering questions to the teacher.
The chūnin instructor held the files, feeling helpless, but still explained patiently, "Nawaki's team is special. No need to worry about it. Next—Team Two: Yamanaka Taiji, Akimichi Yumi, Nara Hanene. Instructor—Sarutobi Shinnosuke."
"Wow, an Uchiha—no, a Sarutobi clan jōnin!" Akimichi Yumi, with her dark red hair tied into a bun and her slightly plump figure, looked ecstatic.
Beside her, Nara Hanene rested his chin on his hand, silently mocking the girl's little act. She'd known it all along and was still pretending to be surprised.
The chūnin instructor continued reading out team assignments, but a black-haired, straight-haired Uchiha girl who still hadn't heard her team called began to grow visibly anxious.
"Team Eleven."
"Uchiha Mikoto, Yakushi Nono, Might Duy. Instructor… Baixing."
"Baixing?!"
With a sharp sound, the black-haired girl shot up from her seat. She had rejected the chance to be led by a clan jōnin and chosen to remain in the academy to accept the official assignment—only to be given an instructor she had never even heard of?
"Never heard the name, but he shouldn't be too bad," Yakushi Nono said calmly, glancing at Uchiha Mikoto. She didn't seem overly concerned. But a moment later, it registered—had the teacher just named a genin she'd never heard of as their instructor?
Confusion immediately surfaced.
The chūnin teacher, who had already rehearsed a thousand explanations in his head for how to justify this to the Uchiha clan, was just about to steel himself and speak when he saw Yakushi Nono—normally a complete background presence in class—raise her hand.
"Teacher, who is Might Duy? I don't think I've heard of him before."
Born into a chūnin family and orphaned at a young age, Yakushi Nono wasn't exactly a popular figure in class.
Her raised hand drew quite a bit of attention. Most students glanced at her briefly before looking away, while the children of major clans wore expressions that clearly said this should be interesting.
Nara Hanene silently complained in his heart. An Uchiha prodigy stuck with a genin instructor who had failed the chūnin exams six times, plus one invisible nobody from class—and on top of that, a perpetual genin middle-aged man who only knew taijutsu? This was basically Konoha's higher-ups rubbing salt into the Uchiha clan's wounds.
Of course, that was only inner monologue. He'd never say it out loud—trouble was the one thing he hated most.
"As for him," the chūnin instructor said, scratching his cheek, "he's a genin from several classes above Baixing…"
"Then why hasn't such a genin been promoted to chūnin all this time?" Uchiha Mikoto frowned. A bad premonition rose in her heart.
The instructor sighed and explained, "Because he only knows taijutsu. He can't even properly use the most basic ninja techniques—the Three Body Techniques. Under those conditions, promotion to chūnin is impossible."