"Let's eat."
Ethan picked up the wooden spoon, pressed his palms together briefly, and dug in.
He was starving.
The broth hit his throat like a blessing—rich with chunks of salted pork, root vegetables, and thick hand-pulled noodles. It wasn't fancy, but it filled the gnawing emptiness in his gut, and right now, that was all that mattered.
"Busy day again, Ethan?"
Teuchi wiped his hands on a rag while eyeing the dust on the boy's clothes. Hard to believe a five-year-old would drag himself out of bed before dawn and hustle for odd jobs until sunset.
Even if a child had the strength—which Ethan barely did—most merchants had to think about appearances. Child labor wasn't exactly a good look. So Teuchi felt a weird sense of admiration that this scrawny kid managed to find work every single day.
Yeah—admiration. For a child.
He'd run his noodle stall for nearly two decades, and he'd never seen a kid so self-reliant. Maybe it was his background. War orphans had it rough. The kingdom's endless skirmishes left countless children without parents, and the ones who survived were either taken in by the church, shipped off to overcrowded orphanages, or left to fend for themselves.
Ethan had chosen the latter. After leaving the orphanage, he'd been living on his own in some ramshackle house his parents left behind before they died in the northern campaigns.
"Yeah, a really full day!"
Ethan gulped down another spoonful and let out a satisfied sigh before looking up with a grin that was way too bright for someone who'd probably been hauling crates since sunrise.
"Is that so? Sounds like you did pretty well today."
Teuchi beamed at the patched-up, dust-covered kid whose blond hair was oddly neat despite the grime everywhere else. He loved that optimism. Most street kids had this haunted, hollow look in their eyes. But not Ethan. This kid had fire in him, and Teuchi was convinced that one day, somehow, this boy would shine.
"Of course, Uncle Ichiraku—no tab today. I'm paying in full."
Ethan slurped down the last noodle, drained the broth in one gulp, and set the bowl down with a satisfied clack. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, leaving a streak of broth on the fabric.
"You've only owed me once in the past month—no need to make such a fuss," Teuchi said, somewhere between amused and pained.
He'd gladly let the kid eat for free. But Ethan's stubborn pride forced Teuchi to treat the boy like an adult customer. Handouts would only bruise that pride.
"Can't have you losing money on my account, Uncle."
Ethan dug into the small leather pouch at his belt and counted out copper coins for two bowls—one for today, one to settle last week's tab.
The coins clinked as they hit the counter.
"My stall's doing just fine—you're not putting me in the red anytime soon!" Teuchi chuckled, scooping up the coins anyway.
The boy needed to feel like he'd earned his meal.
"Then may your business keep thriving, Uncle Ichiraku."
Ethan hopped down from the stool and headed for the canvas flap.
"Hey, Ethan."
The boy turned back.
"Trade's been so brisk lately I'm actually getting swamped. How about you help out tomorrow? I'll pay fair wages."
Ethan blinked, genuinely surprised.
He'd asked for work here months ago, back when he first struck out on his own. Teuchi had firmly refused. "No child labor in my shop," he'd said. So Ethan had gone hunting elsewhere—sweeping floors, running errands for merchants, hauling firewood for the blacksmith. Anything to survive.
Still, every few days, when he'd scraped together enough copper, he rewarded himself with a bowl of Ichiraku's stew. His one luxury.
Seeing the kid's stunned expression, Teuchi cleared his throat and made his voice sterner.
"Well? If you're interested, show up tomorrow morning. Otherwise, I'll just find someone else."
His tone made it clear this was business, not charity.
Ethan's eyes practically sparkled. His grin stretched wide.
"Deal! A job this good can't go to anyone else."
"Right—five in the morning, sharp. You won't oversleep?"
"Don't worry, I'm always up early."
With a quick wave, Ethan slipped past the canvas flap into the night.
Teuchi watched the flap sway in the cold breeze, a small smile on his lips.
He knew damn well he didn't actually need help. His daughter Ayame was perfectly capable, and business wasn't overwhelming. But the kid needed stability. A steady paycheck. A reason to show up somewhere every day.
So yeah, maybe it was charity disguised as employment.
But if it kept that spark in the boy's eyes alive, it was worth it.
Ethan walked briskly through the narrow streets, his worn boots clicking against the cobblestones.
He knew the plot. In the original timeline, Teuchi never hired anyone outside of his daughter. Not for the next dozen years, at least. This was a special exception.
For him.
"Truly a kind man…"
The night air was crisp and biting. Ethan's breath puffed out in small clouds as he walked. He rubbed his hands together, trying to generate some warmth. His fingers were already numb.
To Teuchi, tonight's offer was just wages for labor.
But to Ethan?
It meant the world.
No more scrounging for scraps of work. No more wondering if he'd eat tomorrow. A steady job at Ichiraku's meant security, consistency, and—if he played his cards right—plenty of perks.
Once again, he dared to look forward to the future.
Halfway home, he shivered violently, then paused and glanced at the horizon.
The sky was clear, stars scattered like broken glass. But the air…
Tonight felt colder than it ever had before.
Something felt off.
His name was Ethan, and he was a transmigrator.
Back on Earth, he'd been Ethan Cross—a fresh grad with a business degree worth less than the paper it was printed on. He'd landed some soul-crushing office job, spent his days shuffling spreadsheets and attending pointless meetings. His hot-blooded dreams of adventure slowly got ground down by corporate life.
Eventually, he'd just accepted it. Resigned himself to an ordinary existence. Clock in, clock out, pay rent, repeat.
A quiet life.
By modern standards, even that was enviable.
But fate had a sick sense of humor.
Ethan never expected to transmigrate. And when he did, the new reality was no better—arguably worse.
As a war orphan in the village, he saw little light ahead. Everyone knew the orphanage served as a screening ground for Root—the shadowy organization run by Elder Danzo, one of the council's most powerful members. Any kid who showed talent in chakra cultivation or combat would be quietly pulled aside, tested, and if they passed, disappeared into Root's training compounds.
Compared to the Hokage's ANBU—elite forces loyal to the village leader—Root was a pitch-black cage. Enter and you never left. Between Danzo's authority and Root's power, an orphaned nobody like Ethan had zero chance of resisting.
So he'd fled.
Three months ago, he'd walked out of the orphanage and moved into the tiny, crumbling house his predecessor's parents left behind before they died up north.
Days after moving in, a village estate agent showed up with prospective buyers—some merchant couple looking to flip cheap properties. An awkward encounter followed, with Ethan stubbornly insisting he wasn't leaving. The couple eventually decided the place was too much of a fixer-upper. They moved on, and Ethan kept the shack.
He didn't know if the village council would eventually seize it for taxes or bureaucratic nonsense, but for now, it was home.
He stepped inside the dim room and flicked on the oil lamp, casting flickering light across the cracked walls.
Crumbling plaster littered the floor. The place looked like a wreck—probably why those buyers backed off so quickly.
He filled the dented kettle from the water barrel and set it over the small hearth to boil. A proper wash would feel amazing after hauling garbage for the tannery all day.
The coins clinked as he dropped them into his makeshift piggy bank—an old ceramic jar with a crack sealed with tree sap.
Then, the familiar translucent blue screen shimmered into existence.
Top right corner: a golden coin icon and a number.
Gold: 3,000
"Finally enough," he muttered, grinning.
He pulled up the shop interface and focused on the golden-framed options he'd been eyeing for weeks.
[Newbie Discount (90% off): S-rank Character Card – Minato Namikaze, 3,000 Gold (orig. 30,000)]
[Newbie Discount (90% off): S-rank Character Card – Jiraiya, 3,000 Gold (orig. 30,000)]
[Newbie Discount (90% off): S-rank Character Card – Hiruzen Sarutobi, 3,000 Gold (orig. 30,000)]
[Note: One-time newbie purchase. Choose one; quantity limited to one.]
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