Shimizu Kantsuki was seventeen years old, and he carried a secret that outweighed his rank: he was a transmigrator.
He hailed from a universe defined by pure technology and red banners, a world where logic ruled supreme. It had been six months since the "Mystery of the Womb" had faded, returning his past life's memories to him.
With that clarity came terror.
As an awakened soul, Kantsuki understood exactly how absurdly dangerous this world was. In the early stages, perhaps, a man could survive on wit. But later? This was a reality where gods eventually descended to shatter planets.
For a commoner without destiny on his side, this world was not an adventure. It was a meat grinder. The heroic tales of the original story masked a cruel, unyielding truth: the details did not favor the weak.
As a glorious Chūnin of Konoha, Kantsuki felt less like a soldier and more like a man walking across a frozen lake that cracked with every step.
Can I even make it to the other shore?
When his memories had returned half a year ago, the reality of his situation had been a bitter pill to swallow. He was merely an elite Genin.
No clan background. No Bloodline Limit. No hidden power. No powerful connections. No parents.
It was the textbook definition of cannon fodder.
Faced with the prospect of an early grave, Kantsuki had moved with desperate speed. He submitted his application immediately.
Report!
Lord Hokage, though Kantsuki's strength is meager, his will is iron. I wish to give my all for Konoha.
Please, Lord Third, allow this subordinate to join the ANBU!
The Third Hokage—that shrewd old man—had initially rejected him. While he appreciated Kantsuki's fervent will, he disdained his lack of combat power. A Genin in the ANBU? It was unheard of. The minimum requirement was Chūnin.
But Kantsuki had persisted. He played the part of the fanatical patriot to perfection.
He claimed he didn't fear hardship. He didn't fear sacrifice. His only fear, he declared with wet eyes, was dying without having contributed to the village that raised him.
The performance shocked the room.
The Third had slammed his hand on the desk in approval.
A fine lad! Burning himself to illuminate the village!
Moved by this display of the Will of Fire, the old man changed his mind. He allowed Kantsuki to enter the ANBU on a trial basis, mostly to observe his resolve.
Six months later, the Third was thoroughly satisfied. Kantsuki completed missions with a desperate, suicidal efficiency that warmed the Hokage's heart. As a reward, the old man had personally bestowed a scroll upon him.
A C-Rank Ninjutsu: Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu.
It was the signature technique of the Uchiha clan, the move Sasuke used in the stories. To a transmigrator, a C-Rank jutsu might seem trivial, but in the reality of the ninja world, this scroll was Kantsuki's golden ticket. Relying on this single technique, he had successfully climbed the ranks to Chūnin.
The harsh truth of the hidden villages was one of monopoly.
Jutsu ranked C through S were tightly controlled assets. Without high-level approval, even thinking about learning them was a crime. A commoner could only hope to exchange mission contribution points and ryo for D and E-rank scraps.
In a world governed by bloodline supremacy, a commoner rising to the top was nearly impossible.
Some might point to the Fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze, as proof otherwise.
But that was a survivor's bias. Minato was a generational genius, yes, but he was also the student of Jiraiya, one of the Sannin. Try having him apprentice under a no-name Jonin and see if he becomes Hokage. Without being part of the Third's direct lineage, dreaming of the Hokage hat was a delusion.
Fortunately, Kantsuki had forced his way in.
He was now considered part of the Third's ANBU faction—adopted lineage, perhaps, but lineage nonetheless. He bore the old man's label. It was the same path Hatake Kakashi walked, albeit with far less talent on Kantsuki's part.
But talent was a problem he could solve.
Sitting in his bedroom, Kantsuki closed his eyes.
A translucent interface flickered into existence within his mind.
[Proficiency System]
[Shimizu Kantsuki: Chūnin (Comprehensive)]
Chakra: Chūnin Level
Affinities: Earth, Water, Wind, Fire, Lightning
Taijutsu: Chūnin Level
Genjutsu: Genin Level
Ninjutsu: Chūnin Level
[Ninjutsu List]
Transformation Technique (E): LV3 (5%)
Clone Technique (E): LV3 (3%)
Body Replacement Technique (E): LV3 (42%)
Body Flicker Technique (D): LV4 (61%)
Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu (C): LV1 (98%)
Chakra Refining Method: LV4 (87%)
[Genjutsu List]
Demonic Illusion: Hell Viewing Technique (D): LV2 (39%)
[Taijutsu List]
Basic Konoha Taijutsu: LV4 (31%)
This was his reality.
Kantsuki had a cheat, and it was always active.
The Proficiency System. One certification, forever valid. No level caps. No diminishing returns.
As long as he practiced—whether it was Ninjutsu, Taijutsu, or Genjutsu—he could upgrade indefinitely.
This was his confidence. This was the only reason he dared to volunteer for ANBU suicide missions. Without this system, a mere Genin trying to play politics six months ago would have been digging his own grave. He wanted the protection of the Hokage's faction, not a death sentence.
Looking at the panel, however, Kantsuki still felt the cold bite of inadequacy.
His arsenal was pathetic. The basic three academy jutsu. One D-rank movement technique, one D-rank illusion bought with hard-earned points. And the solitary "high-level" Fireball Jutsu he had bled for over the last half-year.
Long ago, Kantsuki had mapped out his strategy.
Early Game: Weakness. Walk on thin ice. Survive.
Mid Game: Gain strength. Develop Konoha. "Let those who get rich first lead those who come later."
Late Game: "Please, everyone, focus on developing my Konoha."
It was a long road, winding and obscured by fog. But with the Proficiency System, time was his only necessary ally.
The longer he could stall, the stronger he would become.
If he could gain enough power, he intended to delay the outbreak of war between the ninja villages. He would drag the feet of that terror organization, Akatsuki. He would make sure that old undead ghost, Uchiha Madara, stayed quiet a little longer.
His gaze lingered on the interface.
He had a premonition. Once any skill broke through to LV5, a qualitative change would occur.
His attention narrowed on the most critical skill of all: Chakra Refining Method.
Currently, the entire ninja world operated on the same principle: refining chakra by blending one's own physical and spiritual energy. It was an internal cannibalization of resources.
If his refining method hit LV5... could he break the internal loop? Could he begin to refine the natural energy of the outside world?
Expectation tightened his chest.
If he could absorb natural energy, it would symbolize a massive leap forward. It would be his emancipation from the bloodline curse.
In this world, chakra extraction was the bloody benchmark of genetics. If your ancestors weren't illustrious, if your body wasn't special, no amount of desperate effort would squeeze out more than a few drops of chakra. Overtraining only destroyed the body with hidden injuries.
This was why bloodlines were worshipped. Without one, you lost at the starting line.
Kantsuki stood up and walked to the backyard.
He inhaled deeply, molded the energy, and exhaled. Fire surged.
He did it again.
Two consecutive Fireball Jutsus drained his reserves completely. A wave of hollowness washed over him, signaling the need for recovery.
But then, the text in his mind shifted.
[Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu (C): LV1 (98%) -> LV2 (0%)]
Sensing the influx of new understanding, the subtle refinement of the technique etching itself into his muscle memory, Kantsuki nodded. A small satisfaction settled over him.
His stomach gave a hollow growl.
Time to eat.