"Alright."
"You guys chat among yourselves."
"I'm heading home to find something to do."
"Eh—"
Nawaki tugged at the green snake, about to say it's still early, why go back now, when—
The snake clearly decided that Nawaki, this average-looking ugly guy, had scared off her male god.
Her tail flicked back and forth, smack smack, slapping Nawaki square in the face as he stood there dumbfounded.
Then the snake dropped to the ground and deliberately traced out an elegant S-shaped slither, hissing twice.
Baixing: "..."
"Sorry, I don't understand snake language," Baixing said politely, forcing himself not to roll his eyes.
"How about you speak human?"
That clean, handsome smile—bright and gentle—instantly turned the snake's pupils into heart shapes.
Behind them, Nawaki reached out weakly, muttering, "Qingqing, you can't abandon me…"
The snake snapped her head back and did a one-second face change.
"You useless piece of trash!!"
"Oh~~"
A single tear slid down Nawaki's face. He collapsed onto the ground as if praying to a deity, the sweet, feminine voice ringing in his ears, giving him the illusion of a caring little sister.
Plop.
Baixing: "..."
Did I come to the wrong place? I need to leave. Now.
After saying goodbye to Nawaki and Might Guy—and finally shaking off a summoning snake who seemed a bit too obsessed with looks—Baixing returned home.
As usual, he took out a novel he'd bought from Konoha's Elite Hall, flopped onto his bed, and enjoyed a rare day off.
Time slipped by quickly. As evening approached, Baixing went out to find food, packed a few meals, ate, and continued lazing around reading.
The window was open. From time to time, ninjas leapt across walls and rooftops outside. Occasionally, they caught sight of Baixing in this relaxed state and felt deeply reassured.
Another peaceful day protected by Konoha's shinobi, they thought, before heading off to work harder on missions.
At bedtime, Baixing yawned, turned off the incandescent light, drew the blue curtains shut, and sat cross-legged on his bed, closing his eyes.
In the darkness, there was almost nothing to see—but it made it easier to calm his mind and confirm whether he was being watched.
"Safe."
The moment his eyes opened, his lips moved again.
"ROOM."
A pale-blue spatial field expanded, forming a humanoid boundary.
Within this space, he was practically omniscient and omnipotent.
Today marked the second targeted self-experiment since the last mission.
"Heart…"
"Brain…"
"Five internal organs…"
"Meridians…"
After confirming everything, Baixing also confirmed that his research direction over the past half year had been correct—and that the last experiment had gone without error.
Relying on his Saiyan physique combined with the Op-Op Fruit, he really could achieve immortality.
But as long as something was a technique, it had flaws.
"Restoring cells, organs, bones, and meridians to a younger state slows down my rate of becoming stronger."
"A pity."
"But it's fine."
"Good thing I obtained the Saiyan race—this freakish body with limitless potential and continuously increasing combat power."
"Though I still can't compare to Saitama."
After that brief reflection, he began the subtle modification of his body's parameters.
"As long as I restore all vital organs, bones, and meridians to their state from three months ago—"
"I can stay eighteen forever."
His birthday was May 16.
Three months + three months − one and a half months = four and a half months ago.
Technically, he was still eighteen.
"But the downside is obvious."
If someone had Byakugan vision at this moment, they would see that inside the boy's body, his organs, bones, and meridians had all subtly changed from before.
If someone possessed the Rinnegan or extremely strong sensory abilities, they would also notice that his total chakra had slightly decreased.
On the wall, the clock's hands continued to rotate.
Three hours passed in the blink of an eye.
It was already deep into the night.
"So this past month and a half of training—about fifty percent got cut away?"
"Compared to the seventy percent last time—"
"That's not too bad."
"Looks like the deeper the training, the harder it is to roll back."
"Maybe next time, if I shorten the regression period, the loss will be even smaller."
Opening his dark eyes, Baixing slowly exhaled a long breath of turbid air and stretched his slightly weakened muscles and bones.
When he tried to stand, placing his feet on the floor, his whole body felt utterly drained—his stamina nearly exhausted.
"What a great technique~"
With no strength left to even go to the bathroom, Baixing collapsed back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
"Compared to Orochimaru's, Hiruko's, or Kakuzu's methods—"
"This is the real immortality technique."
"Keeping the body permanently young."
"Too bad it's not as 'unkillable' as theirs."
"By Shippuden, I'll be old enough to sit at the same table as Tsunade."
"Sigh—my cheat still isn't strong enough~"
"The Saiyan near-death power boost… I really want to try it."
"But pulling that stunt in the ninja world—if I actually die, there's no Shenron to revive me."
Thinking about it carefully, Baixing realized he'd already been in this world for seven years.
Last year, when he had to lead a squad, he'd been forced to display a certain level of talent—otherwise, discrepancies between rumors and reality during missions might have made him look suspicious in Konoha's records.
Then came the Uzushio incident. Luckily, this time he held back—didn't instantly kill that Mist chunin, but fought him back and forth instead…
So.
From now on, he just needed to be a perfectly ordinary genin!!!
"Oh!"
"Bathroom—"
Thud!
Baixing sprawled face-down on the floor, wearing dead-fish eyes.
"Damn it! I should've gone first—or rested a few more minutes before standing up."
Last time, he'd tried to get up and look at himself in the mirror—and fell flat.
—And now, a second time.
The Next Morning
At the mission assignment board, the black-haired youth stood at the front, stroking his chin with narrowed eyes, completely unsure what mission to take.
—D-rank mission: Go to Uzuhara District (the outer village lands of the three clans) to help transport construction materials.
Baixing skipped it immediately.
He'd taken that one before—it was a trap. Exhausting as hell.
A classic case of low pay, heavy labor, long hours.
After all, a portion of the three clans' funds had gone into building Flame Whirlpool City, and most of the rest was reserved to sustain their clansmen.
"Hey! Isn't that Baixing?!"
"I heard you completed an S-rank mission not long ago—made us all jealous!"
Baixing, Nawaki, and Guy turned their heads at the same time.
Standing there was the Ino–Shika–Chō trio under Shinnosuke's assistant.
The three silently turned back to the board and sighed in unison.
Akimi Yumi: "..."
She instantly felt down, went to a corner to draw circles.
Nara Hanene hurried over to comfort her, while Yamanaka Taiji clenched his fists, thinking, What's so great about him anyway?
Nara Yōsuke, handling paperwork nearby, glanced over and suddenly felt despair for Konoha's future.
"Ahem."
He coughed and called out toward Baixing.
"Genin Baixing."
"You've been standing there for an hour."
"If it really won't do, I currently have a C-rank—"
"Alright! Another day with no missions!"
"Let's go train happily!"
"Yeah!" ×2
Nara Yōsuke: "..."
Is it really that bad?
Did a single C-rank mission scare this 99.99%-completion-rate, village-famous genin Baixing?
"Genin Baaaiiiixing~~~"
Yōsuke suddenly looked like a vengeful ghost, staring straight at Baixing's sweating forehead.
"Your First Squad hasn't taken a mission in half a month."
"Are you sure you don't want to reconsider?"
Baixing scratched his cheek.
If those three clans hadn't come in at dawn and swept up all the decent D-rank missions, leaving only backbreaking, low-pay labor, they wouldn't be stuck camping the board every day.
—The Third Hokage had approved this arrangement until after the Chunin Exams, mainly to let the three clans adapt to Konoha's rhythm. Normally, this wouldn't be allowed—other squads and genin needed experience and income too.
The three clans also took C-rank missions—just fewer of them than D-ranks.
"…Alright," Baixing finally said.
"You talk first. I'll listen."
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