Settling In

The morning mist hadn't yet lifted, but the training ground was already alive with the steady swish of weapons cutting through the air.

Jingxin stood ten meters from a wooden target, his wrist flicking steadily.

Three shuriken flew out in a triangular formation, embedding themselves within three inches of the bull's-eye.

He walked over, pulled out the shuriken, returned to his spot, and repeated the same motion.

This wasn't a performance. It was the basics.

He needed every muscle in his body to memorize the feeling.

Physical training came next.

Squats, push-ups, frog jumps, and weighted laps around the training ground.

Sweat soon soaked through his clothes, but he didn't stop until his body was on the verge of collapse.

This was a world where individual strength could surpass that of an entire group.

It followed a twisted, erroneous logic: the strong were born right, and the weak were born guilty.

The better a future he wanted, the more sweat he would have to shed.

Fortunately, Jingxin had the system ability Linear Potential.

He had no bottlenecks and no limit to his potential.

You reaped what you sowed.

Every drop of sweat would pay off.

How could that not motivate him?

After physical training came chakra refinement, a daily requirement.

He sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and felt the energy flowing within him.

Chakra was drawn from his cells and slowly gathered along his chakra pathways.

The process was dull and long, but he could clearly sense his reserves gradually increasing.

His most unusual training took place in the afternoon.

Once his chakra had recovered to its peak, Jingxin formed Hand Seals and created a Shadow Clone.

The Sharingan of both clone and original glowed crimson.

A single Tomoe spun slowly.

Genjutsu activated.

The night at the Uchiha Clan Compound, the corpses scattered everywhere...

Every detail was magnified, every fear brought back to life.

Jingxin stayed lucid within the illusion.

He forced himself to face the heart-wrenching pain.

As he did, his pent-up emotions combined with his chakra through his Uchiha bloodline, transforming into a special energy that gathered in his head like a trickling stream.

Under the influence of this energy, the Sharingan turned slowly, its ocular power quietly growing stronger, bit by bit.

The illusion shattered, ending his genjutsu training.

Jingxin gasped for breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Then he froze. The world before his eyes had never been so clear.

The webs in the corner of the training ground, the cracks in the distant mountain rocks, the frequency of insects' wings as they flew through the air.

Nothing escaped his eyes.

More importantly, the Tomoe in his Sharingan had increased from one to two.

Two-Tomoe Sharingan.

His ocular power had risen by more than one level.

Jingxin felt the new strength within him. The improvement in his abilities was so clear, so tangible.

"Jingxin!"

A clear female voice came from behind him.

Jingxin dispelled his Shadow Clone and turned around.

Kurotsuchi stood at the edge of the training ground, beaming. "Grandpa told me to call you home for dinner!"

Ever since she learned that Jingxin was a boy, Kurotsuchi's attitude had changed in a subtle way.

Simply put, she was even more friendly.

Kurotsuchi walked over. She wore the black-and-red training clothes common in Iwagakure, and even at her young age, her strikingly perfect proportions were already starting to show.

Her dark eyes fixed on Jingxin as she smiled. "Don't push yourself too hard. Remember to rest."

"Thanks." Jingxin nodded, though he was analyzing the situation in his mind.

This change might simply be the result of mutual attraction between a boy and a girl.

They walked home side by side. A lavish spread covered the dining table.

Ōnoki sat at the head of the table, Kitsuchi beside him, while Kurotsuchi naturally took the seat next to Jingxin.

The mood was much more relaxed than before.

Ōnoki looked at Jingxin. "Your observation period is over."

Jingxin set down his chopsticks and straightened up.

Ōnoki's expression softened. "Welcome as an official member of Iwagakure, Kyoshin Uchiha."

Kitsuchi smiled, and Kurotsuchi's eyes lit up.

Jingxin felt a weight lift from his heart.

After dinner, Ōnoki stood. "Come with me."

Tsuchikage Office.

Ōnoki went to the stone table and took out an official registration form.

"Fill in your details."

Jingxin took the form, filled in each section, and handed it back to Ōnoki.

Ōnoki accepted it and read it carefully. Then he took an Iwagakure Forehead Protector from his desk drawer. "Starting today, you're a shinobi of Iwagakure."

Jingxin took the Forehead Protector. The metal felt cold and solid. He solemnly tied it around his forehead.

Ōnoki watched him, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. "The village can feel your sincerity, and sincerity goes both ways."

He took out a set of keys and placed them on the table. "You've probably noticed the row of detached houses beside mine. The one on the left is yours now."

Before Ōnoki had finished speaking, he added, "You can also collect a monthly allowance of ten thousand ryō."

Honestly, by the standards of prices in the Ninja World, ten thousand ryō wasn't much.

But what if it was just pocket money?

Ōnoki continued, "You can take whatever you need from any shop in Iwagakure that sells shinobi supplies. Just have the shopkeeper send the bill to the Tsuchikage Office."

Jingxin was completely stunned.

This far exceeded his expectations.

This wasn't ordinary acceptance. They were pouring every resource they had into raising him.

And that still wasn't all!

Ōnoki continued, "You can consult the secret archive where we store ninjutsu scrolls as you please. If you want to train in a specific technique, bring the scroll to me, and I'll assign a jonin familiar with it to teach you."

"Of course, you're still young. Some techniques are far too dangerous for you. Don't complain when Grandpa gets long-winded about it."

Jingxin took a deep breath. After experiencing the Ninja World—or, more specifically, the combined beatings of Konoha and the Uchiha—he understood the weight of this kindness.

His voice carried mixed emotions. "Thank you, Lord Tsuchikage."

Ōnoki waved a hand. "Go on. Take a look at your new home."

"You're a self-disciplined child, and you don't need me to guide your training in detail, so I haven't assigned you a jonin instructor."

Not even someone to keep an eye on him?!

Holy crap, what else was there to say?

What was Konoha?

He barely knew them.

"From now on, I'm an Iwagakure shinobi, and that will never change." Jingxin made his promise, then left the office.

Outside, the sun was shining brightly.

He clenched the keys in his hand, feeling the weight of the Forehead Protector on his brow.

Iwagakure. Kyoshin Uchiha.

A new identity. A new beginning.

The house stood alone, a two-story stone building with its own training ground in the yard.

As Ōnoki had said, it came fully furnished.

A bedroom, study, bathroom, and kitchen.

The training room held all kinds of equipment: wooden posts, sandbags, and shuriken targets.

Jingxin pushed open the second-floor window and took in the full view of Iwagakure in the distance.

People came and went on the streets as shinobi hurried past.

Shop signs glittered in the sunlight.