"Uchiha Ren! By order of the Clan Head, all ninjas within the clan are to report to the Police Force Main Hall immediately!"
"I got it," Ren replied with a calm nod. "I'm on my way."
While he spoke, Ren casually fished an empty soda can out of the river.
The Uchiha Chunin who delivered the message gave him a long, bewildered look. Before flickering away, he lowered his voice, offering a rare word of caution.
"Kid, the Third Kazekage has vanished. The borders are getting more tense by the day. It looks like a Great Ninja War is about to ignite."
He paused, his eyes narrowing. "You're just a Genin right now. Don't try to be a hero. Don't take on missions you aren't ready for!"
The Chunin then glanced at the trash Ren was collecting and sighed, his expression turning into one of pure exasperation.
"As an Uchiha, you should be training to increase your strength. Stop wasting your time on these garbage missions."
Shush—!
With a sharp gust of wind, the messenger vanished.
The moment the Chunin was gone, a look of uncontrollable joy erupted in Ren's eyes.
He threw the pitchfork he had been using to clean the riverbed aside and leaped onto the bank, treading water with effortless grace. He tossed the last can into a burlap sack and clenched his fists.
"Damn, is the Great Ninja War finally starting?"
Ren was practically beaming.
"I can finally leave this village to find my death! This past year has been a living nightmare... Picking up trash, catching lost cats, babysitting, clearing clogged riverbeds..."
He took a deep, shaky breath.
"How was I supposed to die doing those bird-shit missions? Finally... I can finally go home!"
It was clear that this Uchiha Ren was no longer the original boy from the annals of Shinobi history. He was a transmigrator.
But he wasn't just any ordinary traveler between worlds. He was a "Heaven-Sent Man," handpicked by the Will of Heaven itself.
The concept was simple: He would be assigned a random talent and dropped into a chaotic era. Using his personal ability and effort, he was supposed to rewrite tragedies, push society forward, and achieve a "Happy Ending."
Success meant returning to his original world with a massive jackpot. However, failure—or acting like a monster—would result in being erased by the Will of Heaven.
But the Will of Heaven was a legitimate corporation; it provided insurance.
If Ren died prematurely while "trying" to save the world, he would receive a payout. He could return home with a hefty insurance claim of 500 million yen.
The only conditions: the death couldn't be less significant than the original history, and malicious suicide would void the policy.
Ren had been waiting for this moment.
The original owner of this body had lost his parents young. Mediocre and bullied, he had remained a Genin. In the grand story of Naruto, he was a ghost—likely dying unnoticed during the Third War or the Night of the Nine-Tails.
He was pure cannon fodder.
And where does cannon fodder belong?
Ren didn't need to think twice: The Battlefield.
As long as he went to the front lines and got himself killed, the Heaven's Insurance Company would have to pay out, no matter how much they hated it.
The timing was perfect. The Hidden Sand was about to declare war. The chaos would escalate into legendary conflicts: The Battle of the Mist, the invasion of the Hidden Cloud, the Third Raikage's last stand, and the tragedy of Kannabi Bridge.
Ren figured that with so many classic meat-grinders coming up, a weakling like him would be "retired" in seconds.
He had considered being a true hero, of course. He had many regrets about this world. But reality was a cold mistress.
Naruto, the "Child of Prophecy," had talent cheats, a Hokage father, and ancient ancestors backing him, and even he almost failed.
Ren was just a weakling who couldn't even awaken the Sharingan. He had no legendary bloodline and no god-tier technology.
How was I supposed to fight? He thought.
If he had a cheat that granted a Mangekyo Sharingan just for showing up, that would be one thing. But the Will of Heaven was a stingy company—his talent hadn't even arrived yet.
"Five hundred million yen... isn't that much sweeter?" Ren muttered to himself. "As for saving the world? I'll leave that to Naruto!"
"A meeting at this hour must be a war mobilization," Ren's eyes sharpened. "Dangerous missions are a limited resource—I can't let them snatch the good ones!"
He kicked off his rain boots and sprinted toward the Police Force HQ. He didn't even look back at his sack or his pitchfork.
"I'm coming, Konoha! I'm ready to shed my blood!"
Nearby, Uchiha Shisui was leaping across the rooftops.
He caught Ren's words as he passed, stumbling mid-air and nearly crashing through a roof in shock. His eyes widened, then slowly began to glow with admiration.
There's actually someone in the clan who shares my resolve?
Shisui watched the young man sprinting toward the sunset and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"But... the missions the Head is about to announce are suicidal. I can't let a comrade with such a noble spirit throw his life away!"
Shisui's gaze hardened. He understood that "burning passion" all too well. It was the kind of heat that led young men to pick the deadliest tasks just to prove their loyalty.
And Shisui was not going to let such a tragedy happen. Especially not with those two "certain death" missions on the table.