I'll Carry You Through

At midnight, Liu Qingfeng was still sitting before his computer, focused on progressing through the new content.

Dungeon & Fighter had just released the Ozma Raid Dungeon. As the leader of a pickup group, he led his members through the initial progression.

A cup of tea, a pack of cigarettes, one ticket for a whole day.

Liu Qingfeng had lost track of how many times the group had wiped. All he felt was utter exhaustion, and he could only complain inwardly, You guys are killing me.

Revival Coins did not reset skill cooldowns, and there was also the sanity meter that dropped whenever one was attacked. They had started at three-star difficulty, but after a full day of struggle, it had already dropped to one-star difficulty.

By the time the final boss was about to fall, it was already four in the morning. He had fought nonstop for twenty hours without sleep.

Taking the chance, he quickly lit the cigarette he had prepared beforehand and placed it before the Old Ma portrait hanging on the wall. "Bless me with a gold card every time."

He had just secured the cigarette when the boss was left with its final sliver of health. Victory was within reach. Twenty hours had not been wasted, and Liu Qingfeng could no longer suppress his excitement.

Then, without warning, something changed. With a click, every light in the house went out, including the computer. No one could have expected a power outage at such a critical moment.

His hands continued hammering the keyboard frantically, but it was all meaningless now. Nearly a full day and night of effort had gone to waste.

Liu Qingfeng was furious. The resentment and rage in his heart rushed straight to his head, making both hands tremble. At that moment, he had to do something—and his eyes landed on the monitor before him.

Without hesitation, he raised his fist and punched straight through the monitor. Just as he was about to pull his hand back and smash it again, every light in the room suddenly came back on.

"Could I really be this unlucky?" That was his first thought upon seeing the lights come on—and his last.

In the next instant, sparks burst across the monitor, and electric currents danced over Liu Qingfeng's body. He collapsed onto the desk at once.

When he woke up again, he was met with the scene from the beginning.

He had once dreamed of roaming the world with a sword in hand, but now that the day had truly come, he could not help feeling uneasy.

He had the Sharingan Kekkei Genkai, but everyone in a clan possessed something like that. There were at least eight hundred, if not a thousand, people with it. It was hardly some overpowered cheat. And this six-year-old body was simply too weak; he felt as though he would be gasping for breath after running just a few steps.

He could not survive in the Ninja World with only this. That unreliable big brother was no better, likely to be fooled all the way to the end. Only becoming strong himself was true strength.

With that thought, Liu Qingfeng slowly rose to his feet. From this day onward, there would be no more Liu Qingfeng—only Uchiha Qingfeng, who would live well while carrying two hopes.

He tucked the banknotes into his clothes and slowly surveyed everything in the house.

Both his parents had been Ninja. At least they had a small detached two-room home, but it belonged to the clan. If the sole remaining Uchiha Qingfeng did not show talent for becoming a Ninja, he would surely be driven out of this "home" by the clan and made to live with the commoners on the outskirts.

Everything in the house was old and worn. Uchiha Qingfeng searched through it carefully, yet he could not even find the most basic Three Jutsu, much less the Uchiha clan's exclusive Great Fireball Jutsu.

"That can't be right!" After calming down and thinking carefully, he realized that his parents had both been Ninja. There had to be basic Ninjutsu Scrolls somewhere in the house. He simply had not noticed them.

Qingfeng refused to give up and continued searching, but still found nothing. Finally, his gaze settled on the picture frame hanging on the wall. It was the only place he had not checked.

Inside the frame was a family portrait. Obito was still wearing goggles then, while Uchiha Qingfeng had been an infant in his mother's arms.

Standing on a stool, he first wiped away the layer of dust on top. With an anxious heart, he slowly removed the entire frame. Whether it was there or not depended on this final spot.

Sure enough, just as he had expected. Ninjutsu was a Ninja's lifeblood, so there had to be several Ninjutsu Scrolls stored at home to be passed down.

Uchiha Qingfeng stared at the recess in the wall. Several scrolls lay inside. He hurriedly took everything out, rehung the picture frame, and began carefully examining the "inheritance" his parents had left behind.

There were five scrolls and a box before him. He opened them one by one.

Though he did not know his parents' Ninja ranks, the scrolls revealed Clone Jutsu, Substitution Jutsu, and Transformation Jutsu. The remaining two were Great Fireball Jutsu and Phoenix Sage Fire, two Uchiha-exclusive Fire Style C-rank Ninjutsu. That was enough to tell him that they had probably only been Chunin. Otherwise, their possessions would not have been so meager.

Uchiha Qingfeng turned his gaze to the final box, hoping for a pleasant surprise.

It was a battered wooden box without even a lock, and it opened with ease. There was no high-level Ninjutsu inside, only a stack of banknotes—probably payment earned from missions.

Uchiha Qingfeng took them out and counted them. There were exactly One Million Ryo. It was not much, but it was money earned through hard work.

As parents, they had to consider everything for their child. If their child had the talent to become a Ninja, they would leave behind Ninjutsu. If their child could only become a commoner, then the money they left behind had to ensure a life without worries over food or clothing.

What caught Uchiha Qingfeng's attention was not the banknotes, but the sheet of paper at the very bottom. He had thought it would be something like a "letter to their child," but when he unfolded it, it was a deed to the house.