In a world filled with danger, betrayal, and unpredictable power, there is only one rule that guarantees survival: stay low-key. Make no noise. Shine too brightly, and someone will snuff you out.
Uchiha Souji never wanted to transmigrate here. In his past life, he had air-conditioning, WiFi, video games, and the warm comfort of a simple modern life. Now, he had nothing—not even the freedom to avoid wetting the bed when he first appeared in this infant body. That alone was emotional trauma.
But recently… things had gotten better. For one, Souji hadn't had to wash sheets in a long time. Progress!
Tonight, the silence of the Uchiha compound was broken by the sharp whoosh—whoosh—whoosh of a blade cutting through the air.
"9997… 9998… 9999…"
It was three o'clock in the morning, a time when most people—especially children—were dreaming peacefully. But Souji had no such luxury. His body trembled as he swung the practice katana again and again, sweat dripping down his forehead and soaking his shirt.
He didn't want to torture himself like this. But there were two reasons he had no choice:
1. Someone in the future would try to kill him.
2. His "system" was the cruel Self-Discipline Check-In System.
Only by training daily could he earn rewards.
Worst of all, to avoid drawing attention from dangerous shinobi factions, Souji had to train at night like a guilty thief. The more invisible he stayed, the safer he'd be.
Across the compound, under the cold moonlight, Uchiha Fugaku walked alone. Recently, the conflict between the Uchiha clan and Konoha officials had deepened. Fugaku couldn't sleep anymore—worry pressed heavily on his heart.
As he passed the training grounds, he froze.
A strange sound echoed through the stillness.
Pop—pop—pop—pop—
(Fast blade swings hitting the air)
Fugaku's expression twisted.
That sound… at this hour…?
Is someone doing… THAT… in the training grounds?
He immediately moved like a ghost, vanishing into the air and reappearing atop a tall tree overlooking the field.
But instead of a couple doing questionable things, he saw a six-year-old child furiously swinging a sword under the moonlight.
Fugaku clicked his tongue.
Kids these days are working harder than adults…?
It was 3 a.m. Children should have been asleep. Yet this boy trained as if the world were ending. Fugaku did not disturb him. Instead, he left silently, thinking:
If even the children are pushing themselves, how can the clan leader fall behind?
---
Meanwhile, Souji collapsed after finishing his set.
"30000!"
He dropped the sword and sat heavily on the ground, chest rising and falling rapidly.
"Why… why is everyone else's system something cool? Money system, daily reward system… But mine is the Self-Discipline Check-In System?!"
He felt like crying. Every reward required suffering.
Souji looked around nervously. He could've sworn someone was nearby earlier. But after scanning the area carefully and sensing no threat, he let out a long breath.
Now came the important part—planning his survival path.
His ideal future was simple:
Train quietly.
Reach at least Genin level.
Join a small ninja squad to avoid attention.
Then, one year before the Uchiha massacre, he would accept a long-term mission far away…
And never come back.
The perfect escape.
His destination?
The capital of the Land of Fire.
He would hide there and live off modern business ideas from his previous world. He could practically see his comfortable future already:
Money? He'd make plenty.
Women? Also plentiful.
Ninja battles? No thanks.
As for Uchiha Itachi… Souji refused to compare himself with a monster like that. That boy was practically a nuclear weapon in human form.
He recited Itachi's unbelievably absurd résumé:
4 years old → Went to war and killed people.
5 years old → Protected Sasuke during the Nine-Tails attack.
6 → Entered the Academy.
7 → Graduated top of the class.
8 → Awakened Sharingan.
10 → Became Chūnin.
11 → Joined Anbu.
11½ → Awakened Mangekyō Sharingan.
13 → Anbu Captain & slaughtered elite shinobi.
Even authors from his past world wouldn't dare write a character this overpowered.
Meanwhile, Uzumaki Naruto—the supposed protagonist—was picking garbage out of a river with Kakashi at age thirteen.
Souji?
He was six years old and proud whenever he killed a pheasant.
If he truly compared himself to Itachi, he'd probably only appear in the Fourth Great Ninja War next.
That's why Souji's idol wasn't Naruto, Itachi, or even Uchiha Madara.
It was Sima Yi, the master strategist who lived by one rule:
"Avoid the enemy's blade. Survive first. Win later."
Running was not cowardice. Running was wisdom. Running was life.
People expected him to reform the Uchiha clan? Impossible.
There was nothing wrong with the clan itself—they were far more open-minded than the Hyuga clan.
But politics didn't care about innocence.
The moment those in power decided the Uchiha were a threat, the clan was doomed.
Even triple Mangekyō couldn't overthrow Konoha.
This wasn't Uchiha Madara's era.
Susanoo had limits. Chakra ran out.
And Konoha had powerful shinobi whose eyes weren't Uchiha.
So Souji lived by one eternal truth:
"Running is the right way!"
---
After deciding his future life motto, Souji shouted:
"System! Sign in for today!"
A metallic chime rang.
Ding! Congratulations, Host. You have obtained the Third Generation Ghost Blade!
A strange aura surged from the katana lying beside him. Souji's heart skipped. He picked it up carefully and gasped.
The previously normal weapon had transformed into a sinister blade with a longer edge, a sharper curve, and a flame-patterned steel line running across its surface.
It was cold—too cold.
Like it had been pulled straight out of a corpse's grave.
Souji shivered.
Then suddenly, warmth flooded the blade.
The system had synchronized the sword with him.
Souji grinned.
"Nice! This time I actually got something useful."
He drew the Third Generation Ghost Blade and admired the icy glow reflecting in the moonlight.
Satisfied, he reached for a bottle beside him—a familiar dark drink.
Yes. It was Fat House Happy Water.
His system was strange. On the very first sign-in, it sent him ten tons of the stuff. To this day, he had no idea where it came from. If his late parents hadn't left him a large house, the piles of soda would have buried him alive.
For weeks, even his pee tasted sweet.
Souji sighed deeply.
"Life is suffering… but at least the system gives drinks."
He took another sip, savoring the sugar hitting his tired brain.
Tomorrow, he would train again.
The day after, too.
Because in this world…
Staying alive was the ultimate victory.
And for Uchiha Souji, the road to survival had only one direction—
Run fast. Run smart. Run early.