Smack!
A crisp slap against a face rang out in the somewhat empty house.
This was followed by a clattering crash.
Ah, honestly...
I'm getting sentimental...
Chiba, pull yourself together. If you keep this up, you'll disgrace all transmigrators. As a proud transmigrator, one of the three great professions for saving the world, how could you break down over something like this...
He picked up the iron pot and set it over the campfire. Looking at the chunks of meat on the floor and the puddle of spilled broth, Chiba made no move to clean up. Instead, he stared blankly at the meat and soup for a moment.
In that instant, a whole string of thoughts flashed through his mind.
"Forget it. I'll leave this for now. He Yin and the others are training, and asking them for cleaning tools would disturb them."
After staring for a while, Chiba muttered to himself and shifted his gaze away from the soup and meat. It finally landed on the box beside the bed, the paper and pen on top of it, and the stack of pages already filled with writing. He frowned slightly.
Was it because I'd been gravely injured and near death again?
There had been many changes to my body this time, even if they weren't obvious.
First was my Chakra capacity. It was already faintly approaching a Jonin's level.
There was still some distance to go, but it was very close. The threshold of Jonin-level Chakra was right before me.
Jonin-level Chakra in my normal state.
What...
What exactly is going on?
Was increasing Chakra capacity really this easy? Did I just have to nearly die a few times, without doing anything else, to go all the way from Chunin-level to just one step short of Jonin-level?
And this