The wooden floorboards of the orphanage were cold, but the heat of the Konoha summer pressed against the windows like a physical weight. Ryan sat in a corner, surrounded by wooden blocks and a few other toddlers who were content to drool on their toys.
To the caretakers, he was just "Kenji"—the strange boy who had insisted on a foreign nickname and then suddenly became the most well-behaved child in the building. To Ryan, this was Phase 1: Deep Cover.
Year 37, Ryan thought, his eyes tracking a fly buzzing near the ceiling. If my memory of the series' timeline is as accurate as my old lab's calibration, Kakashi Hatake is being born this year. That puts me two years ahead of the 'Genius of the Leaf.' It also means I have roughly 10-12 years before the Third Shinobi World War truly begins to grind children into meat.
He looked at his small, soft palms.
"Status," he whispered, barely audible.
Nothing. No blue screen. No robotic voice in his head. No "Level Up" notifications.
Right. No cheats, he noted, a cold smirk touching his lips. Just me, my memory, and a two-year-old's underdeveloped motor skills. In my past life, I didn't need a system to build a billion-dollar empire or create artificial chakra. I won't need one here.
The biggest frustration wasn't the lack of power; it was the lack of input. Ryan was a man who used to read four scientific journals over breakfast. Now, he couldn't even read a grocery list.
"Nono-san?" Ryan called out, softening his voice to hit that perfect pitch of 'innocent curiosity.'
A woman with short hair and glasses looked up from a pile of laundry. This was Nono Yakushi—the "Walking Maiden" and a former high-level medic. Ryan knew exactly who she was. In the anime, she was a tragedy. In his reality, she was his first target for information.
"Yes, Ryan-kun? Are you hungry again?"
"No," Ryan said, walking over and tugging gently on her apron. He pointed toward a dusty shelf in the corner where a few tattered scrolls sat. "I want to learn. Can you teach me the symbols? The sounds?"
Nono paused, a look of genuine surprise crossing her face. "You want to read? You're only two, little one. Most children your age just want to chase the cats in the courtyard."
"The cats are fast," Ryan said, putting on his best 'pouty kid' face. "But books don't run away. I want to know what they say."
Nono laughed, a warm, melodic sound. "A scholar already? Very well. If you finish your milk at lunch, I'll spend thirty minutes with you every afternoon."
For the next eight weeks, Ryan lived a double life.
By day, he was the "Social Butterfly." He forced himself to play tag, to laugh at stupid jokes, and to share his toys. It was grueling mental labor. He had to ensure he didn't appear too smart. If he was a prodigy, he'd be shipped to the Academy early or, worse, noticed by the "One-Eyed Pirate"—Danzo Shimura.
Play the part of a civilian brat, he told himself daily. Be average. Be forgettable. Be a background character.
But every afternoon, he sat with Nono. His genius-level adult brain soaked up the Japanese-based Kanji like a sponge. Within a month, he could read basic primers. By the second month, he was asking about the "biological energy" mentioned in the historical scrolls.
One rainy afternoon, as the other children napped, Ryan sat at Nono's feet.
"Nono-san," he asked, keeping his tone light. "You were a ninja once, right? A medic?"
Nono's smile faltered for a fraction of a second—a tell-tale sign of a hidden past. "I was a Genin, Ryan-kun. Not a very brave one. Why do you ask?"
"Because I want to know how the body works," Ryan said, his eyes shining with a fake, wide-eyed wonder that masked a terrifying ambition. "How do people heal with their hands? Is it like... a battery inside them?"
Nono adjusted her glasses, looking at him intently. "It's called Chakra, Ryan. It's the mixture of physical energy from your cells and spiritual energy from your mind. But it's dangerous for children to mess with it without a teacher."
"I just want to see the books about it," Ryan insisted. "The ones about the muscles and the nerves. If I know where the 'batteries' are, I can be a great doctor like you!"
Nono patted his head, her guard lowering. She saw a child who wanted to help. Ryan saw a woman who could give him the anatomical roadmap he needed to perform his first "Extraction."
My parents were civilians, Ryan thought as Nono went to fetch a basic medical text. In this world, that makes me a 'disposable asset.' A cannon fodder Genin at best. But they don't realize that I've already successfully synthesized Ice Chakra once before with nothing but Earth-based technology.
He looked at the medical book she placed in his lap.
I don't need 'talent' or 'destiny.' I have the Scientific Method. And once I learn how to map the Tenketsu (pressure points), I'm coming for the beasts.