Power Stone Goals from now on: I always post a minimum of 5 chapters. Henceforth the following are the goals:
Every 150 powerstones, I upload an extra chapter.
If we hit top 30 in the 30-90 days power stone rankings, thats 1 more chapter
If we hit top 10 in the 30-90 days power stone rankings, thats 1 more chapter
If we are top 5...well lets get to that first. Happy readings!
Chapter 87: It is possible
"And rather than return to the village and report what happened," Jiraiya said slowly, his voice even but not without a trace of edge, "you thought it would be wise to go AWOL and disappear entirely?"
"Yes," I responded, my tone as calm as I could keep it. I didn't flinch.
"Why?" he asked simply, with no visible emotion.
I inhaled lightly and gave him the answer I had rehearsed many times over.
"Because I don't trust Danzo," I said plainly. "The moment I step foot in the village again, I have no idea what might happen to me. Danzo can twist the narrative in any direction he wants. He could claim the Root operative never existed, that I disobeyed orders, that I was mentally unstable, that I killed my own team... and that's just the beginning."
Even as I spoke, the lie clawed at me. It wasn't the first time I had bent the truth, but this was different. Jiraiya wasn't some nameless ANBU or a faceless commander; he was one of the most experienced shinobi in the history of the Leaf. A master at reading others. But I had practiced this speech too many times to slip now.
"To me, going back to the village is a death sentence," I continued. "I realized the only way to survive—and to find out what really happened—was to disappear. So I ran."
Jiraiya didn't immediately respond. He stood still, arms loosely at his sides, eyes narrowed slightly as though evaluating every word, every subtle twitch of my face.
Then he finally spoke again, voice low.
"So where are you now?"
The question caught me slightly off guard. I blinked. "What do you mean? I'm right in front of you."
Jiraiya's stare didn't break. "Don't play games, Shikomu. You're not a fool, and neither am I. You expect me to believe you'd show up here in person after all this? This is a clone, isn't it?"
I didn't answer.
That, in itself, was the answer he needed.
He exhaled slowly, not in disappointment, but as if accepting something he had already known. "And yet, you expect me to trust you with the truth, when you're not even standing here yourself."
I said nothing. There wasn't a convincing argument for that. I had taken the risk of sending a shadow clone, and though it allowed me to speak without revealing my true location, it also meant I couldn't prove my sincerity with presence alone.
Jiraiya stood silently for another long moment. Then, to my surprise, he spoke again.
"I understand your situation," he said. His voice was steady now, not soft but not sharp either. "And I'll keep this encounter to myself. For now."
My eyes widened slightly, though I didn't let the relief show.
"But you will report to me directly. From now on. I don't care where you are, what you're doing, or how far you think you've run. If you find yourself in danger or discover something important, you contact me. Use a summoning seal. I'll have the toads find you."
I nodded slowly. "Understood."
"I hope for your sake," he added, his tone becoming firmer again, "that everything you've told me is the truth. Because if I ever find out it wasn't... if I learn I was lied to, manipulated, or used in any way..."
He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to. The implication lingered like a blade drawn but not yet swung.
He turned to face Gamabunta, who had been silently observing from his place nearby.
Just as Jiraiya-sensei turned to leave, his silhouette already beginning to dissolve into a flicker of movement, I called out, unable to let the moment pass.
"Wait, Lord Jiraiya."
He paused, turning back with a faint grimace as if the delay was more a nuisance than a surprise.
"Since you're here," I said, keeping my tone even, "I'm going to need your help with something."
He crossed his arms loosely. "What is it now?"
The edge in his voice wasn't unexpected. I had already asked much of him, and it was clear I had spent whatever goodwill might have existed between us. Still, I pulled the scroll from my cloak—the same scroll Apolo had given to me—and tossed it lightly toward him.
He caught it with ease, unfurling it quickly.
As his eyes scanned the complex matrix of seals and chakra schematics, I saw his posture subtly shift. The longer he read, the more his expression changed from indifference to astonishment. The corners of his mouth pulled into a slow, silent frown as he processed what he was looking at.
"Did you make this?" he asked finally.
I nodded. There was no point in going into elaborate explanations. I certainly wasn't about to unravel the existential nature of the system I was living in—one where AI governed the flow of reality, and every soul might be a construct yet still as real as any.
He looked back down at the scroll, his fingers hovering over the seals as though unsure whether to admire it or scold me for the heresy it represented.
"You integrated concepts from Tsunade's Strength of a Hundred Seal," he said slowly. "You blended that with the regenerative capabilities of the Senju body, layered it with the chakra reserves of a Jinchuriki... and stacked it on top of the Eight Inner Gates system. And on top of all that, you structured it around a Fuinjutsu core?"
"Essentially, yes."
He shook his head in disbelief. "If this works—if it even halfway works—this wouldn't just make you powerful. It would make you unquantifiable. I wouldn't even be able to guess your limits."
I said nothing, but inwardly I felt the slightest flicker of validation. If someone like Jiraiya could recognize the theoretical strength behind the idea, then I wasn't chasing a fantasy.
"So what exactly is your plan?" he asked.
The concept comes from a novel I once read. In my... old world. Before I ended up here.
I hesitated, then explained.
"The principle is to reverse the Eight Gates. Normally, one opens the gates from the First to the Eighth, culminating in the Gate of Death. What I propose is to start from the Eighth—the Gate of Death—and open them permanently in reverse."
Jiraiya stared at me, expression unreadable.
"You want to permanently open the gates?"
"Yes," I replied, voice firm. "Beginning with the final gate, moving backward. Each gate would be opened in a stabilized, sealed form. The result: permanent enhancements in chakra flow, durability, and physical strength. But in exchange, I give up the ability to use the Eight Gates as a combat release ever again."
He rubbed his chin slowly, his gaze never leaving mine.
"That's an enormous trade-off."
"It is," I admitted. "But not one I make lightly. With just the Fourth Gate permanently open, I estimate I would be nearing the peak of Kage level in base form. And that's without factoring in Tailed Beast chakra or Senju healing. If I succeeded in stabilizing all eight..."
I let the implication hang. Even the Ōtsutsuki might not be out of reach.
Jiraiya didn't respond immediately. He rolled up the scroll and held it at his side.
"But there is a reason you're passing me this...you..."
"I need your help." I finished the sentence for him. If I worked on this myself it would take far...far too long.
Jiraiya had to leave. He didn't say much more after we spoke, only nodded solemnly, tucking the scroll I had given him beneath his arm.
"I'll get back to you soon," he said, before vanishing with practiced silence, likely on his way to the chaos brewing at the Mist frontlines.
Of course, I knew Gamabunta wasn't going to be the one training me in Sage Mode. That responsibility belonged to someone else. The Chief Toad had made that clear before departing.
"Look kid," he had said, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder, "head down that way and you'll find a small house nestled between two cliff faces. Knock and wait outside. A small frog named Fukasaku will answer. He's the one who'll teach you everything about Sage Mode."
I gave a nod of understanding and set off in the direction he had indicated. The terrain here in Mount Myoboku was strange, a blend of natural serenity and looming grandeur. Giant mushrooms loomed like trees, and spiral-carved rock paths sloped across ridges coated in luminous moss. The air buzzed lightly with the weight of ambient natural energy.
Eventually, after about fifteen minutes of steady walking, I arrived at the location Gamabunta described. The house was modest—a structure built from smooth stone, sun-bleached wood, and a moss-covered roof that blended almost seamlessly into the surrounding terrain. I walked up the final steps and knocked softly on the rounded wooden door.
Then I waited.
It wasn't long before the door creaked open and a small figure emerged. He was only about half my height, with sagging green skin, a set of drooping yellow eyes, a long white beard, and an aged but alert posture. He wore a tan robe and carried a walking stick adorned with a polished red gem.
Fukasaku.
The first twenty words that came to mind when I saw him: ancient, wise, unimpressed, careful, tired, focused, sharp, steady, slow, vigilant, observant, mysterious, grounded, practical, irritable, ritualistic, experienced, patient, honest, and dry.
He looked at me in silence for a beat, then spoke in a gruff, direct tone.
"Are you the boy Jiraiya-boy said I'd have to train?"
"I believe so," I replied.
"Good. Then let's begin. Follow me."
Without waiting for a response, he turned and shuffled back inside the house.
I followed. As I stepped across the threshold, I couldn't help but mutter to myself: "Everyone here has me walking all over the place. I hope this is the last stop."
After a brief interior walk, we exited out the back of the structure, revealing a wide open platform that overlooked much of Mount Myoboku. This was it. The same spot I recognized from the anime—the place where Naruto had trained under the strict demands of complete stillness.
As we stood at the edge of the platform, the wind light and the sky tinged in gold, Fukasaku turned to me.
"Now listen carefully. What I'm about to explain is not something you should take lightly."
He motioned for me to sit down, and I did.
"Sage Mode—Senjutsu—is a technique that draws natural energy into your body. It allows you to merge that energy with your own chakra to create a heightened state of power. This state increases your strength, speed, reflexes, chakra sensitivity, and your ability to perceive and manipulate the world around you."
His voice grew firmer.
"But to access all of that, you must become one with nature. You must balance your own chakra with the natural energy around you, and that process... is not forgiving. Too little, and nothing happens. Too much, and your body turns to stone."
He let the weight of those words settle for a moment.
"You will learn, step by step. But this requires patience, focus, and commitment."
I gave a nod.
My goals were simple. Before Jiraiya could process everything I had given him—before anyone could try to track or stop me—I wanted to master Sage Mode.
Because if I did, no player, system-driven or not, would ever come close to matching me.
…
Authors note:
You can read some chapters ahead if you want to on my p#treon.com/Fat_Cultivator