Chapter 1
"If there's something you know will happen, yet you're powerless to change it... that's called regret."
At this moment, Uchiha Shiraha could only taste something indescribably foul in his mouth—like he'd swallowed some eldritch, unknowable thing.
Still, thanks to this bizarre fruit he'd forced down his throat purely on willpower while unconscious, he had survived.
Uchiha Shiraha: an utterly ordinary person reincarnated from another world into the Naruto universe.
In a shinobi world that prized bloodlines above all, being born into the Uchiha clan was a decent stroke of luck.
Unfortunately, Shiraha's talent was nothing special. Without any golden finger activating, even at sixteen—considered an adult—he remained just an ordinary three-tomoe Sharingan user, though his actual combat strength was undeniably impressive.
Perhaps in the eyes of other Uchiha, that already qualified as genius-level.
But when the Night of the Uchiha Clan Downfall arrived, Shiraha held out longer than most of his kin.
He fought one against two, ultimately falling. Yet in that direst moment, he awakened his Mangekyō Sharingan... and arrived in this unfamiliar place.
What he hadn't expected was that his desperate stand against two opponents had been witnessed by a small, skinny figure...
"Ori-Ori Fruit!"
After his stomach churned violently, Shiraha finally realized what he'd eaten—and where he'd ended up.
What excited him most was that his long-stuck golden finger progress bar, frozen at 1% for over a decade, had finally crawled to 10%.
A cause for genuine celebration. He'd once thought the thing was a total scam.
Devil Fruits truly were miraculous. And arriving in the world of One Piece filled Shiraha with joy.
The sea was vast and beautiful. Sailing freely across it on a ship—how much better was that than being confined to the cramped ninja world?
The Ori-Ori Fruit (Puppeteer Fruit) was indeed excellent—its utility far exceeded his expectations, especially when paired with his Mangekyō Sharingan abilities.
But right now, he was gravely wounded. The priority wasn't daydreaming about nonsense; it was finding a safe place to recover and heal this battered body.
Fortunately, he knew some basic medical ninjutsu. Relying on his mediocre skills, Shiraha managed to patch his legs and arms enough to walk on his own.
"So where the hell has this thing dumped me?"
The One Piece world was dotted with countless islands, and this one seemed unusually large.
He'd walked for most of the day and still hadn't left the forest.
Even after so much distance, the humid sea breeze carried a salty, fishy tang that slapped against his face. Shiraha brushed aside the stray bangs over his eyes; his fingertip brushed the scabbed wound at his temple, sending a faint sting.
"Damn jungle. This stinking, endless path."
Muttering curses, he kicked aside obstructing vines. Sap from the broken plants splashed onto his already tattered pants.
Moonlight filtered through the layered canopy in dappled patches, illuminating the dried blood on his cheeks.
He had no spare energy left to use the Ori-Ori Fruit right now.
"Feels like I'm in some wilderness survival show."
Grumbling to himself, Shiraha realized he'd badly underestimated the forest's size.
With night fully fallen and his stamina depleted, he had no choice but to find a tall tree, settle against its trunk, and spend a not-too-cold night outdoors.
For a shinobi, wilderness survival was second nature. Anyone who'd survived two years at the academy wouldn't fear the wild.
This forest was big, but otherwise fine—at least Shiraha passed a peaceful night.
When the first rays of morning sun pierced the gaps in the leaves and stabbed into his eyes, when golden webs wove through the trees and dew rolled down leaf veins to drip onto his furrowed brow, Shiraha was already awake.
Though moving still hurt, he had regained a bit of strength—enough to tap into the Devil Fruit's power.
One perk of physical transmigration: he could still use the Kusanagi sword on his person.
Lost in thought, Shiraha drew the blade and began chopping wood. If Orochimaru ever saw this scene, he'd probably call it "interesting" with that creepy grin.
After felling a trunk, Shiraha sat on a stump and started refining it.
He squatted, letting the Kusanagi's edge glide, producing fine curls of wood shavings.
His wrist flicked lightly; the blade sliced in at an angle, three inches deep. Amber resin immediately seeped from the cut surface.
The tip traced the grain like a dragonfly skimming water, teasing apart fibers, carving smooth curves. Dozens of varying-depth incisions gradually emerged on the wood, forming something resembling a human cervical spine structure.
In the distance came the rustle of animals scurrying over dead branches.
Shiraha narrowed his eyes, gazing at the gradually forming wooden component in his hands.
Operating under such injury was agonizing. Sweat slid down his sideburns, hung from his chin for a moment, then dripped onto the rough wood.
Click—
With the final groove locking into place, Shiraha tested the joint. The wooden arm emitted a grating, teeth-on-edge friction sound.
"The Ori-Ori Fruit can consume stamina to create puppets, but these soulless ones lack growth potential and can't bear more abilities. It all depends on how much I develop the fruit."
Even as he thought this, Shiraha decided against using his Mangekyō Sharingan. His ocular power was completely drained; he couldn't afford any further expenditure.
With his remaining recovered energy, Shiraha infused the two small wooden puppets with the power of his Devil Fruit.
As the demonic energy poured in, the two mini wooden figures began to swell.
The human body is incredibly complex—every part fused in near-perfect harmony.
Even the most lifelike puppet could only mimic about 95% of the exterior.
As for the interior... ordinary people had no way to replicate it.
But Devil Fruits were miraculous. That power flooded the plain wooden puppets, triggering a transformation.
An unknown energy erupted from within, making the figures increasingly lively.
They slowly expanded to adult size before the changes abruptly halted.
"Haa..."
Exhausted, Shiraha narrowed his eyes and sighed as he looked at the two wooden puppets standing beside him.
Reflected in his pupils was the gleam off the wood: "For now, without the Mangekyō to grant special abilities... you'll just have to be obedient ones that never tire, forever following orders..."