There Are No Coincidences in This World

Ever since the Third Hokage visited his hospital room, Mizuki had been feeling quite satisfied with his life. If Orochimaru would just stay tucked away underground focusing on his research, Mizuki wouldn't mind offering to help him study immortality. As for Pain, Obito, or Uchiha Madara, they should just stop fighting over the thankless, suicidal job of being a "savior." If they really want to be saviors, why not just lock their doors and enjoy it in private? People in this world aren't exactly begging to be saved; as long as you don't bother anyone, nobody cares if you want to be a savior, a deity, or a creator god.

How did that saying go? "When poor, cultivate your own virtue; when successful, help the world." Mizuki had never heard of any famous philosophers or sages like Confucius or Mencius in the ninja world. Why were the ninjas here so eager to "help the world" the moment they gained a little power, as if they'd been injected with stimulants? They never stopped to ask if anyone actually wanted their help.

Getting off track, Mizuki glanced back.

"Tsubaki, that hot pot belongs to us, don't forget to take it. Iruka, that chair over there looks nice, help me take that too."

"Mizuki, we didn't bring that chair. And that vase in your hand belongs to the hospital, and also," Tsubaki said awkwardly, "that blanket isn't ours either. Don't you think we should—"

"You're misremembering, Tsubaki, these are all ours, don't worry. Iruka, that painting on the wall is nice too; I've been looking at it for days and it's grown on me. Pack that up as well. It should be worth a few coins."

Under the suspicious, thief-catching glares of the medical ninjas, Mizuki finally checked out of the hospital. In truth, he'd been fine for days; aside from a lack of energy that required a wheelchair, he'd be ready for recovery training in a few more days. In less than a month, Mizuki and Tsubaki had turned the hospital room into a study, bedroom, and kitchen. There was so much to pack that he'd had to drag Iruka over to spend the whole morning getting things sorted.

"Tsubaki, let's buy a big house soon. This apartment is way too small; how are two people supposed to live here? Look at those big clans—they have sprawling estates with courtyards, little groves, and ponds. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"But Mizuki, we can't afford it. It's too expensive," Tsubaki said, looking troubled.

"Iruka, you must have saved up quite a bit of money over the years. You don't have a girlfriend, so your expenses shouldn't be high for the next few years. Lend it to me; you don't have anywhere to spend it anyway." Mizuki couldn't help but set his sights on Iruka.

"I refuse," Iruka replied without hesitation. "Even if I'm alone, I still have expenses. I can't just lend it to you for nothing. Who knows if you'll ever pay me back?"

"Stingy. So many years of friendship can't even compare to the stench of copper coins. This world is truly rotten."

"Your brain is what's rotten. You only remember we're friends when you need something? Where were you before?"

Tsubaki hurriedly tried to smooth things over. "Mizuki, let's not do this. Even if we pool our money together, we still can't afford a big estate."

"Is that so? Fine then. Tsubaki, how about we use the Transformation Jutsu to take out a loan shark? They'll never find us. Actually, let's turn into Iruka—that way it'll go on his tab. He's got money anyway."

"Is it okay to say that right in front of me, Mizuki?" Iruka's temple throbbed as he gritted his teeth.

"Sigh, I should have just asked the Third for a house," Mizuki said, his mind jumping elsewhere, ignoring Iruka entirely. "Tsubaki, why don't we start collecting wedding gifts? The date is coming up anyway, let's just take the money now. It's a guaranteed profit."

"We can't, Mizuki. We'll have to give return gifts later."

"Tsubaki, you're just too honest. Forget about return gifts, just pretend you don't know. Who would have the nerve to ask a severely injured man for money? Have they no shame?"

Mizuki was busy packing while dreaming up get-rich-quick schemes with Tsubaki and Iruka when someone came to visit.

"Why are you two here?" The visitors were none other than Aoba Yamashiro and Hayate Gekko.

"The Third ordered us to bring these to you. Sign for them." A pile of scrolls was dropped on the floor.

"So many? There's no room for them. Why don't you two stay and help me tidy up the room?" Free labor—might as well use it.

The room, which hadn't been lived in for over a month, was finally cleaned up by the five of them just before dinner.

"It's so late, I won't keep you for dinner. Thanks for your hard work."

"That's it? You're not even keeping us for a meal?" The three of them looked bewildered.

Mizuki didn't feel the slightest bit embarrassed. No money, economic crisis—who needs shame?

Watching the three of them head for the door, Mizuki suddenly called out, "Oh, right, Aoba. You said you'd treat me to a month of breakfasts. Just cash it out for me at the price of a top-tier luxury hotel package. I'm too busy lately, no time." He slammed the door shut, giving Aoba no chance to argue.

"Mizuki, aren't you being a bit too much?" Tsubaki asked worriedly.

"Don't worry about them. Let's eat; I've been busy all day and I'm starving."

"What do you want to eat?"

"Assorted sushi."

"Alright, you haven't had that in a long time. I thought your tastes had changed. That's my specialty."

Night fell, and Tsubaki had long since gone home. Mizuki read through the documents the Third Hokage had sent, then lay in bed, unable to sleep.

With nothing to do, Mizuki got up and took out his Storage Scroll to check the contents. Although his body was in poor condition, he could still manage some sealing techniques that didn't require much chakra.

Staring at the strange, misshapen lumps of flesh in the nutrient solution, Mizuki's brow furrowed deeper. He carefully inspected the samples, eventually even pulling out the monster he had grown from his own hair on a whim.

"So that's how it is," Mizuki's body trembled. It wasn't from physical weakness; surprise, anger, excitement, joy, and even fear were all tangled together.

"It seems I made a huge mistake," Mizuki thought, holding up a vial of green potion and examining it closely. "I originally developed this as a transitional potion to solve my physical ailments, ranking it below the Anti-Aging Potion and the Fission Potion. I never expected it to be something so terrifying. Even worse, it's revealed another, even more horrifying possibility."

The green potion was developed based on proteases that activate cellular totipotency. Mizuki had originally intended it as a temporary, high-potency recovery and healing agent; in a way, it was already an impressive achievement. He had always treated it as a desperate trump card for life-or-death battles. As long as he didn't overdose, and as long as he survived, he could rely on the extraordinary powers of this world to heal minor side effects, and there were plenty of ways to replenish vitality.

However, his fundamental judgment had been wrong. The name "Omnipotence Potion" was no misnomer; it could activate the latent possibilities within cells. While it had significant flaws in practical application, theoretically, it could allow for regeneration from a single drop of blood. The major issue Mizuki had overlooked was that an organism's genetic chain isn't entirely dominant. Many traits are masked throughout an organism's life, and more seriously, much of the genetic information dating back to distant ancestors has either degenerated or remains hidden. But that doesn't mean it isn't there. The Omnipotence Potion didn't distinguish between dominant and recessive; if the dosage was sufficient, it activated everything.

Therefore, logically speaking, the risks of using this potion were far greater than imagined. Even with a small wound, applying a little of the potion could lead to atavism, such as patches of skin becoming rough or even growing fur.

When Mizuki had experimented on small creatures, he had actually seen large-scale atavism, but he hadn't paid attention. Insects weren't exactly endearing, and who would patiently observe if a species had undergone a fundamental shift? They all looked the same, and in a pile of normal and abnormal bugs, it was easy to ignore. Besides, insects mutate quickly, and their genetic complexity is nowhere near that of higher organisms. They have far fewer recessive traits. That was why he hadn't noticed the problem until now.

But this created a paradox. If higher organisms theoretically had a much higher probability of mutation and atavism than lower ones, why were Aoba and Hayate fine? Even he himself had used so much of it—theoretically, even if he hadn't died from exhaustion, the atavistic mutations should have tortured him to death. Yet, he'd gone to the hospital and was back to his usual self, perfectly fine.

Actually, this was Mizuki's own fault. He had mocked the short-sightedness of the locals, yet he had fallen into the trap of "darkness under the lamp." The key was chakra. In his past life, such a magical substance didn't exist, so while he was good at applying his knowledge, he had subconsciously ignored it when his past-life knowledge interacted with chakra. Chakra, the product of the union between body and consciousness, was not just a concept. As a tool that reflected the omnipotence of this world, it provided feedback to the body. Lightning affinity stimulated physical activity, like Kakashi and Sasuke. Fire affinity usually indicated strong desires, not the type of person who could settle down, like Mizuki himself, Madara, or Jiraiya. Earth affinity was sturdy and resilient, like the Hidden Earth ninjas. Water affinity was flexible and fast, like Haku and Zabuza. Wind affinity was sharp and piercing, like Naruto and Asuma. These were all typical examples. In essence, chakra acted like an unconscious guidance system containing physical information, which largely prevented physical deviations and effectively suppressed the mutations caused by the Omnipotence Potion that didn't align with the body's current state.

"So, nothing was an accident. Coincidence, in a sense, does not exist. Aoba, Hayate, and I are not the lucky ones favored by the world."