The sun had fully set, plunging the village into a cool, starlit night. Inside the damp apartment, Kenji sat on his futon, staring at his small hand.
"125 Chakra," he muttered, the bitterness still coating his tongue like bad medicine. "I risked indecent exposure charges for a 25% boost to a stat that was basically zero to begin with."
His stomach growled—a low, angry rumble that demanded attention.
He looked at the pyramid of empty ramen cups. He looked at his wallet. He opened it, and a literal, dusty moth flew out.
"I'm broke. I'm hungry. And I'm angry."
He had already spent the orphan welfare fund for the month on scroll fragments and failed experiments. There was still more than a week left before the next stipend.
He stood up and paced the room. "I need a distraction. I need to test this 'Max Level' Transformation Jutsu. The System said it was 'Mastery: MAX'. In the anime, Naruto's Henge was solid enough to trick a goddess. If mine is maxed out, it shouldn't just be an illusion. It should be flesh."
He closed his eyes, visualizing the target form. He didn't want to turn into Iruka or the Hokage. He needed something that would lift his spirits.
He pulled from the archives of his past life—terabytes of "research" material stored in his brain. He combined the facial features of his favorite AV idols, the impossible body proportions of a One Piece character, and the "Ara Ara" energy of a mature anime mom.
"Transformation Jutsu!"
POOF.
A cloud of white smoke filled the room.
When it cleared, Kenji Sato was gone. Standing in his place was a woman who could stop traffic—and possibly hearts.
She was tall, with crimson red hair that spilled over her shoulders like liquid fire. Her eyes were a piercing violet. But the real engineering marvel was lower. She wore a qipao that was slit dangerously high up the thigh, hugging curves that openly mocked gravity and physics. Her chest was so substantial it had its own gravitational pull.
Kenji looked down. He couldn't see his feet.
"Holy shit," Kenji's voice came out, but it wasn't his squeaky boy voice. It was a sultry, velvet contralto that sounded like expensive whiskey.
He poked his own chest. Squish.
"It's real," he whispered, a strange mix of narcissism and arousal washing over him. "It's actual biological matter. I haven't just put up a disguise; I've reconfigured my cellular structure."
[DING!]
[System Notice: Form 'Femme Fatale' registered.] [Passive Effect Unlocked: Succubus Aura (Level 1)] [Effect: Charm +50 against male targets. Resistance to free drinks -100%.]
Kenji grinned. It was a terrifyingly predatory smile on such a beautiful face.
"Resistance to free drinks, huh?"
His stomach growled again, louder this time.
"Well, no one will feed a poor orphan kid for free. But this lady?" He struck a pose in the mirror, sticking out a hip and running a hand through his hair. "She eats for free."
He grabbed his keys. "Time to go hunting."
The 'Red Lantern' District was lively. It wasn't the red-light district proper, but a street filled with Izakayas and bars where Chunin and Jonin went to drink away the stress of their missions.
Kenji walked down the street. The transformation was flawless. He could feel the eyes of every man he passed gluing themselves to him. Heads turned. Conversations stopped. A waiter dropped a tray of glasses.
Don't trip, he told himself, adjusting to the new center of gravity. Walk with confidence. You are a queen. Sway the hips. Left, right, left, right.
He spotted a small, open-air stall selling grilled skewers and sake. It was crowded, but there was one empty seat next to a man with silver-blue shoulder-length hair and a Konoha headband.
Kenji's eyes narrowed.
Wait. I know that hair.
He activated [Scan].
[Target: Mizuki]
Rank: ChuninStatus: Mildly Intoxicated / Frustrated.
Wallet: Full.
Kenji suppressed a gasp. Mizuki.
The memories from the anime flooded back. Mizuki, the traitor. The guy with the massive inferiority complex towards Iruka. The man who would eventually manipulate Naruto into stealing the Forbidden Scroll of Seals.
Right now, he's just a teacher, Kenji thought, observing the man downing a cup of sake. But the rot is already there. Look at him scowling into his drink. He's probably thinking about how unfair it is that Iruka is popular while he's just a glorified extra.
A wicked idea formed in Kenji's mind.
If I steal from a random ninja, I might feel bad. But stealing from Mizuki? That's not theft. That's preemptive karma.
Kenji took a deep breath, adjusted his qipao to show a gratuitous amount of cleavage, and slid onto the stool next to him.
"Is this seat taken?" Kenji asked, letting his voice drop into a husky purr.
Mizuki looked up, annoyed at the interruption. His eyes started at Kenji's face, traveled down to the massive cleavage exposed by the neckline, lingered there for a solid five seconds, and then shot back up. His annoyance vanished instantly, replaced by a greasy, "nice guy" smile.
"For a beauty like you? Never," Mizuki said, shifting his body to face her. "I'm Mizuki. I haven't seen you around Konoha before."
"I'm... Kaori," Kenji lied effortlessly. "I'm not from here. Just passing through to deliver a scroll. I needed to loosen up a bit."
"Kaori," Mizuki tested the name, looking him up and down like a piece of meat. "A beautiful name. Can I buy you a drink?"
Hook, line, and sinker, Kenji thought.
"I'd love one," Kenji smiled, resting his chin on his hand and leaning forward. The motion caused the fabric of his dress to strain, his breasts pressing against the wooden counter. "I'm actually famished, too. The travel was so long..."
"Chef!" Mizuki snapped his fingers, trying to act like a big shot. "Two bottles of your best sake! And a platter of yakitori! Put it on my tab."
As the food arrived, Kenji ate with delicate precision, while Mizuki talked. And talked.
"You know, being a teacher at the Academy is hard work," Mizuki sighed, swirling his cup. "I try so hard to guide the next generation, but some people... like my colleague Iruka... they just get all the credit because they're 'nice'."
Kenji chewed on a chicken skewer, nodding sympathetically. Yeah, yeah, cry me a river, you discount Sephiroth.
"That sounds terrible," Kenji cooed. "You seem so capable, Mizuki-san. It must be hard being surrounded by incompetence."
Mizuki's chest puffed up. "Exactly! You understand! The village doesn't appreciate true talent. They value weakness. Mercy."
He leaned in closer, his alcohol-laced breath hitting Kenji's face. Mizuki's hand crept across the counter, his fingers brushing against Kenji's hand.
Okay, time to wrap this up before he tries to take me to a hotel, Kenji thought. I need to use [Steal]. But I need physical contact or close proximity.
"Mizuki-san," Kenji giggled, putting a hand on Mizuki's bicep. "You're so strong."
"I work out," Mizuki grinned, flexing.
"Let me see," Kenji moved closer. He practically draped himself over Mizuki. He pressed his transformed chest firmly against Mizuki's arm, burying the man's tricep in soft, warm flesh.
Mizuki's brain visibly short-circuited. His eyes crossed, looking down into the valley of cleavage. He stopped breathing.
Now.
[Active Skill: Steal (Level 1) - Activated]
Kenji focused on the intent. Give me something good. A weapon. A scroll. Money.
His hand brushed against Mizuki's flak jacket. Space warped slightly under his fingertips.
ZOOP.
He felt a heavy weight materialize in his palm. He quickly shoved it into the hidden pocket of his qipao.
[System Notification: Steal Successful.] [Item Acquired: Mizuki's Pouch of Explosive Tags (20x)] [Bonus Item: Wallet (Ryo: 5000)]
Jackpot.
Kenji pulled back instantly, feigning a yawn.
"Oh my," Kenji said, covering his mouth. "The alcohol is hitting me faster than I thought. I feel a bit dizzy."
Mizuki's eyes lit up with predatory hope. "Dizzy? Do you need help walking? My apartment is just nearby..."
"Oh, no, no," Kenji stood up, swaying slightly. "My... aunt... is waiting for me. She's a Jonin. If I'm late, she'll punch a hole in the moon. You know how she is."
Mizuki paled. "Ah. Right. Well, take care."
"Thanks for the meal, Mizuki-kun," Kenji blew him a kiss and walked away, swaying his hips hypnotically.
He didn't look back until he was three streets away. He ducked into a dark alley.
POOF.
The smoke cleared, and six-year-old Kenji stood there, holding a leather pouch and a wallet that looked massive in his small hands.
He opened the wallet. 5000 Ryo. That was enough to buy premium groceries for a month.
"Thanks for the donation to the 'Kenji Development Fund', Mizuki," Kenji grinned, stuffing the cash into his pocket.
Then he opened the pouch. Twenty standard Konoha Explosive Tags.
"These things go for 300 Ryo a pop," Kenji whistled. "I have legitimate firepower now."
He looked at the System screen.
[Achievement Unlocked: The Cat Burglar] [Successfully scammed a Chunin.] [Reward: +5 Agility.]
Kenji felt his legs get a little lighter.
"This," he said, patting his pocket. "This is going to be fun."
But as he walked out of the alley, he saw something that stopped him dead in his tracks.
Sitting on the swing set in the empty park, bathed in moonlight, was Naruto. He wasn't training. He was just sitting there, swinging back and forth, staring at his feet.
He looked incredibly small.