"Nine hundred and ninety-eight…"
Evan's voice was a jagged rasp, barely audible over the pulse hammering in his ears. His vision blurred, the edges fraying into static.
"Nine hundred and ninety-nine…"
His arms trembled violently. The custom-made stone weights strapped to his wrists felt like tectonic plates, dragging his small frame toward the frost-covered earth.
"One… thousand!"
With a guttural grunt, Evan released the weights. They hit the dirt with a heavy thud, kicking up a cloud of dust and frozen pine needles. Evan didn't try to stay upright. He collapsed directly onto the frigid ground of his courtyard.
He stared at the pale winter sky. His chest heaved, every breath a thick plume of steam in the biting December wind. More than two weeks had passed since the Doctor's Benevolence System had activated. In that time, Evan hadn't gone looking for trouble. Instead, he had turned his home into a private laboratory of physical limits.
He had realized early on that the System's healing wasn't just for emergencies—it was a catalyst for evolution.
In the ninja world, training was a balancing act. Push too hard, and you'd sideline yourself with injuries. But Evan had a cheat code. Whenever his muscles reached mechanical failure, he channeled his emerald-green Chakra.
[Doctor's Benevolence: Cellular Restoration.]
The green light would wash over his shredded muscle fibers, stitching them back together faster, denser, and stronger than before. It was a cycle of destruction and rebirth that allowed him to pack months of conditioning into mere days.
"System," he whispered. "Show me the progress."
Character Status
Name: Evan Kamiyo
Age: 4
Constitution: 14.5 (Senju bloodline awakening in progress...)
Spirit: 12.5
Chakra: 15.5
(Note: Average Genin standard is 10)
Skills: Chakra Refinement Lv.2 (16/100)
Points: 0
Evaluation: Genin-level strength. Capable of defeating a freshly graduated Haruno Sakura in direct confrontation.
Evan let out a short, dry laugh. Sorry, Sakura. Beating a civilian-born student like Sakura wasn't a flex, but the growth was undeniable. His Constitution had jumped from 6.3 to 14.5. He was four years old, yet he moved with a weight and precision that felt alien to his small stature.
But this rapid ascent required fuel. His stomach let out a rumbling growl like a tectonic shift. His orphan subsidy—a modest allowance from the village—was vanishing at an alarming rate.
He stood up, joints popping like firecrackers. After a bracingly cold bath, he checked his coin pouch. It was heavier than it should have been. He'd noticed it recently; his allowance had quietly increased by thirty percent.
The Third Hokage, Evan thought. Ordinarily, clanless orphans were sent to the orphanage. Yet Evan lived in a detached house with a growing stipend. He was in a bubble of "privileged isolation," much like a certain blonde boy with whisker marks.
"If the Old Man wants to feed me, I'll let him," Evan muttered.
He headed to the commercial district, the air crisp with the smell of woodsmoke and roasting chestnuts. He reached his destination: Ichiraku Ramen.
"Excuse me, Uncle!" he called out, hopping onto a tall wooden stool.
Teuchi, the owner, looked up with a weathered but kind smile. "Evan! Where have you been hiding, little man?"
"Training, Uncle. I'm trying to grow tall enough to see over your counter."
Teuchi laughed. "The usual?"
Evan shook his head. "The usual... but double. Two large bowls of pork-bone char siu. And extra eggs."
"Double? That's enough to feed a Jonin!"
"I'm a growing boy," Evan grinned.
The ramen was served within minutes—massive, steaming bowls shimmering with droplets of fat. Evan moved with an efficiency that would have impressed a ninja. Chopsticks blurred, and the broth disappeared in deep gulps. Each bite fueled the Senju fire in his veins.
"That," Evan sighed, setting the second bowl down, "was life-saving."
Teuchi leaned on the counter, amused. "I've never seen a kid your size eat like that. You remind me of another regular—a blonde kid, about your age. He's a bit of a troublemaker, but he's got a good heart. Most people don't give him a chance."
Evan nodded. He knew exactly who Teuchi meant.
"Maybe I'll meet him one day," Evan said noncommittally.
"I'll introduce you next time," Teuchi promised. "I think you two would get along. He's lonely, and you seem like you could use a friend who isn't a training dummy."
Evan paid his bill and stepped back into the cold. Naruto Uzumaki—the "Demon Fox" to civilians, but the "Prince of the Leaf" in reality. He was the ultimate "patient" for the System.
Interacting with Naruto was a double-edged sword. He was under constant surveillance by the Third Hokage and Root agents. But Evan was just a fellow orphan—a "Good Boy" who liked ramen. Why wouldn't they gravitate toward each other?
"Six Paths," he whispered into the wind. "It's not just a dream anymore."
He turned home, his mind calculating tomorrow's regimen. He wasn't ready to save the world, but the foundations were being laid.