The following morning, Ryōsuke woke just as sunlight spilled through the shoji.
He stretched, joints popping one after another.
No soreness.
No lingering ache.
He blinked.
"…Completely healed again?"
A faint grin tugged at his lips.
"Good. Means I can get beaten up again today."
It had become routine—almost comforting.
A day without Guy smashing him into the dirt felt strangely… incomplete.
He washed up, grabbed his usual breakfast at Ichiraku, then began his daily search for Guy.
But after combing the entire village—
Nothing.
Ryōsuke exhaled.
"Of course… Guy has missions to do."
Unlike him, who conveniently avoided Police Force duty thanks to his grandfather's status, Guy lived as a civilian shinobi.
No missions meant no income.
With no chance for today's "beating session," Ryōsuke returned to the outskirts of the Uchiha compound and slipped into a small, quiet grove.
If he couldn't spar, he'd train alone.
He wasn't foolish enough to pick random fights.
Unlike Guy, most shinobi wouldn't hold back—they'd break bones.
So he inhaled slowly… and began.
Saitama-style, One-Punch-Man Training — Shinobi Edition
First, he ran laps around the grove—about three hundred meters each.
Thirty-three laps made ten kilometers.
Next, he dropped down for one hundred push-ups—building explosive arm and chest strength.
Then he hooked his feet and hammered out one hundred sit-ups—sharpening his core and breath control.
Finally, he rose into one hundred squats—strengthening legs, joints, and stamina.
It was the One-Punch-Man regimen.
In his old world, it was a meme.
Here?
This was a world where sheer physical conditioning could push human bodies beyond their limits.
A world where Might Guy, through nothing but taijutsu, could shake mountains once he opened the Seventh Gate.
If such training would work anywhere… it was here.
An hour later, Ryōsuke collapsed onto the ground, drenched in sweat and gasping.
The system chimed:
"Strength +1. Speed +1. Constitution +1."
He grinned.
Only one point each—but he could feel the improvement.
A warm flow spread across his limbs, dissolving the burn in his muscles.
Slowly… steadily…
He was turning into a physical monster.
And unlike pure taijutsu users, he had the Sharingan.
No illusion, feint, or trick would catch him off-guard for long.
In this world, durability was as important as power.
Even Madara—Hashirama's rival—had died from a simple kunai in his old age.
If Ryōsuke's body became strong enough to withstand attacks others couldn't, trading blows for victory would be laughably easy.
He closed his eyes briefly to recover.
Footsteps rustled in the grove.
Ryōsuke opened his eyes.
Two figures approached.
Uchiha Itachi.
Uchiha Izumi.
Izumi beamed as she jogged over.
"Ryōsuke-nii! Training here too?"
Ryōsuke sat up, wiping sweat from his chin.
"Something like that."
Then his gaze drifted past her… to the boy behind her.
Uchiha Itachi.
Konoha's future prodigy.
The clan's pride.
And—the boy who would one day slaughter his entire clan.
Izumi stood beside him like a sunbeam.
The two were childhood sweethearts in every possible sense.
Ryōsuke felt a complicated sting in his chest.
What could possibly be more important to you than her?
What could possibly be worth killing your entire clan?
Last time he saw Itachi, he had acted too harshly.
The massacre was still years away.
There was time—time to redirect this boy's path.
The corruption of the village leadership might not have sunk deep into Itachi yet.
The brainwashing wasn't complete.
Maybe… just maybe… he could save him.
Because nothing in Konoha was worth sacrificing the Uchiha.
Not the Third Hokage—whose political cowardice had already plunged the village into disaster multiple times.
Not Danzō—who hid behind power, manipulated ANBU from the shadows, and exploited every clan for his own ambition.
Ryōsuke's thoughts spiraled.
—The Third Shinobi War.
Minato had turned the tide at Kannabi Bridge, securing victory for Konoha…
Yet the Third still signed a humiliating treaty with Iwa, handing away their advantage.
For that "peace," he was forced to step down.
—Then the Hyūga Incident.
Kumo attempted to kidnap young Hinata.
Hiashi killed the intruder—rightfully.
Yet Kumo demanded Hiashi's life as compensation.
And the Third complied.
He forced Hizashi to die in his brother's place.
The Hyūga never forgave him.
—And Danzō…
Danzō, who hoarded power, extracted manpower from every clan, and contributed nothing except schemes.
Danzō, who would one day give Itachi the order to massacre the Uchiha.
How could someone as intelligent as Itachi truly believe men like them were worth protecting?
Ryōsuke's gaze returned to Itachi and Izumi.
The boy was still young.
Still reachable.
Still savable.
If Ryōsuke could shift his thinking now—
then maybe the clan could live.
Maybe the Uchiha would survive.
Maybe Konoha would finally have a Hokage worthy of the title—
an Uchiha Hokage.
Ryōsuke rose to his feet, brushing leaves from his clothes.
His eyes softened slightly.
Maybe… this is where fate can begin to change.
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