Chapter 1

Saitama felt that life wasn't easy!

Though he'd transmigrated into a prestigious clan in Konoha and carried a famous surname, the emptiness always clung to him whenever he returned to the deserted estate.

In that sprawling courtyard, there were only Saitama and Granny Xiang, who looked after him.

Other family?

As a transmigrator, Saitama was fated to be alone.

When he'd first arrived in this world, he hadn't even been three years old, yet he'd inherited everything his parents had left behind when they died young—the estate in Konoha's central district and a substantial inheritance.

In the blink of an eye, he'd become the wealthy man he'd dreamed of being in his previous life, easily achieving a goal that had once seemed beyond his reach.

Now five years old, Saitama had heard from Granny Xiang that the clan was sending him to the Ninja Academy.

He was certainly old enough to start school!

At dusk, Saitama pushed open the pitch-black courtyard gate after a whole day of playing. Though his body was tired, his steps were unusually light.

The aroma and clatter drifting from the kitchen told him he'd come back at just the right time.

Not too early, not too late—he was a master of time management!

Grinning, he headed toward the kitchen, then suddenly remembered the boy he'd met that afternoon.

Was his name Shisui?

His memory flashed back to the afternoon—

Saitama swaggered down a street in the Uchiha Clan Compound, clutching a skewer of meatballs he'd bought from a dango shop.

As he munched on the dango and took in the street, he felt he'd reached the pinnacle of childhood.

That is, until he noticed a little tail behind him, peeking around suspiciously.

"Hey, squirt!" Saitama tossed the bamboo skewer behind him.

"Ah!" Uchiha Shisui couldn't dodge in time. It smacked him right on the forehead.

"Following me?" Saitama asked around a mouthful of dango.

Shisui stared at the skewer on the ground, his eyes darting away. "The road's open to everyone. Who's following you?"

Hah, kid! If I hadn't seen you sneakily swallowing your saliva, I might've believed you.

"Is that so? I was going to treat you to some dango, but I guess I was mistaken."

Saitama looked regretful, his voice tinged with disappointment.

Before he'd even finished speaking, he turned his back and made as if to leave.

"Huh? You mean it?"

The eager question came from behind him.

Saitama's lips curled ever so slightly.

He whipped around and stuffed the rest of the dango into his mouth in one go.

"Of course I do!"

Keeping a straight face, he watched with interest as the boy's features gradually scrunched up.

Shisui stared at the guy who'd offered to share, then gobbled down every last piece. His cheek twitched despite himself.

"You... you..."

Young Shisui's thoughts suddenly tangled into knots.

"What is it, squirt?"

Though the other boy looked about his age, Saitama's mental age was already that of an old man, and he was still used to calling him that.

He picked at his teeth with the bamboo skewer, casually sizing up the little boy glaring at him.

"You said you'd share with me!"

"You didn't say anything, so I figured you didn't want any."

Part Two

Saitama delivered his warped logic with absolute confidence.

Shisui was so baffled by the argument that his five short years of life experience couldn't help him counter it.

"What's your name? I'll treat you next time."

Saitama, a rich kid, said it as if it were nothing.

Judging by the boy's coarse clothes, he was probably from an ordinary family in the clan.

"Really?" Shisui's ears turned red, and his eyes shone as if stars had fallen into them.

"Piece of cake!"

Saitama flicked his toothpick away, then started to leave before turning back. "By the way, what's your name?"

"? My name's Shisui, Uchiha Shisui! I live at the house at the end of the street!"

The boy hurriedly pointed into the distance, grinning from ear to ear.

"Got it. I'll remember." Saitama waved. "I'm Uchiha Saitama."

The moment he turned around, his expression grew wonderfully complicated.

He'd randomly run into a kid who'd become famous in the future?

"Body Flicker Shisui... That's quite a name."

Thinking of the boy's adorable, foolish look, Saitama couldn't help clicking his tongue.

Interesting!

"Saitama's back!"

Uchiha Kaori was setting out the bowls and chopsticks when she looked up and saw him strolling into the courtyard.

This gray-haired woman had originally been assigned by the clan to care for the orphan. By now, she treated Saitama like her own grandson. And Saitama had always respected the old woman who'd taken the place of his mother.

"Mm, I'm back, Granny Kaori."

"What are you spacing out for? Why are you grinning like that?"

Uchiha Kaori noticed the smile at the corner of Saitama's lips and couldn't help asking.

"Nothing. I met an interesting member of the clan this afternoon. He was pretty funny!"

Saitama washed his hands and expertly served a bowl of rice, passing it to Uchiha Kaori.

"It's good to make more friends. You're just the right age for it."

Uchiha Kaori accepted the bowl, her eyes full of affection.

Saitama served himself a bowl too and sat across from Uchiha Kaori.

Though he was mature for his age, he still insisted on taking care of himself, unwilling to give Uchiha Kaori more to worry about.

No one was obliged to spoil anyone else—even if, for him, this was already his second life.

"Eat while it's hot. I made all your favorites. Grandma went to the market especially today to buy a pork knuckle and stewed it the way you told me."

Uchiha Kaori tucked a few silver strands from her forehead behind her ear, smiling warmly.

"Granny Xiang, you should eat too. It smells delicious!"

Saitama's praise made Uchiha Kaori laugh.

Dinner ended in a warm atmosphere, and even the empty courtyard seemed to take on a cozy glow.

When they cleared the dishes, Saitama took the task upon himself.

He knew Uchiha Kaori was getting on in years and growing weaker, so he quietly took over these little chores.

Uchiha Kaori was already used to his thoughtfulness. Being relied on like family filled her with comfort.

"Get some rest early," Uchiha Kaori told him before heading back to her room.

"You go to bed first. I'll be right there."

After watching her disappear from view, Saitama sat back down on his cushion.

"The Ninja Academy will be opening soon. I should get ready..."

As night deepened, a maturity beyond his years flickered in his eyes.

His transmigration hadn't been an accident. It was the result of a deal with some entity.

The promised "strongest talent"—an ability to evolve and adapt—was what he relied on to make his way in the Shinobi World.

He hadn't touched the ninjutsu scrolls his parents left behind, since he'd been too young.

But now, he could no longer hold back his excitement.

"Tonight, I'll see the world of shinobi with my own eyes."

Saitama stood, left the room, and slowly climbed the stairs.

The three-story house was clearly laid out: the first floor had a kitchen, living room, storage room, and Granny Xiang's bedroom; the second floor held Saitama's living quarters and a spare room; and the top floor housed the shinobi legacy left by his deceased parents, including ninjutsu scrolls and training notes.

Granny Xiang had originally lived with Saitama on the second floor so she could care for him, but as she grew older and weaker, and Saitama grew more independent, she'd moved into a room on the first floor.

When he reached the third floor, Saitama stopped in front of a heavy wooden door.

The door was clearly sturdier than the ones downstairs, a sign of the value of what lay inside. He lifted the rug by the entrance, took out the key, and pushed the door open.

The room was filled with the scent of ink and the distinctive smell of old books, but no mustiness from being shut up for too long. That was thanks to Saitama's habit of cleaning it regularly.

Though he hadn't studied these texts before, he'd still made a habit of flipping through them.

After lighting the lamp and closing the door behind him, Saitama deftly unrolled the scroll on the desk and read it intently.

The title at the top read Chakra Refinement Technique.

The scroll described a method for refining chakra!

What was the foundation of a shinobi?

Nothing but chakra!

Saitama firmly believed that chakra was the great divide between ordinary people and shinobi.

From the scroll and what he knew in his previous life, he'd concluded that chakra had three main components:

First, the body's 130 trillion cells could all store and produce chakra. The method described in this scroll was a way to draw out their energy;

Second, spiritual energy;

Third, Natural Energy.

For now, Saitama could only access the first kind—chakra derived from his body's cells.

He'd already studied this Chakra Refinement Technique more than ten times, and its contents were deeply familiar to him.

His photographic memory let him remember every key detail, but he'd never put it into practice.

After rereading it, Saitama closed his eyes and silently recited the method.

The tatami, cleaned regularly, gave off a fresh scent.

Adjusting his breathing, he gradually relaxed his whole body and entered the state of "meditation" described in the scroll.

All was silent, and the lake of his mind slowly stilled.

It was as if endless energy surged inside him.

Saitama quietly sensed it. There was no wind in the room, yet his cross-legged body felt wisps of warm air flowing all around him.

It was warm as the winter sun, shining on his slightly chilled skin!

Was this chakra?

Saitama was brimming with excitement.

It was his first time truly touching this mysterious energy, and an indescribable sensation surged through him.

He knew his talent was extraordinary, but actually refining chakra was an entirely different experience.

Following the scroll's instructions, he used his will to guide this thread of "warmth" slowly toward the dantian in his abdomen.

The dantian was where chakra gathered. Newly formed energy needed to circulate along a path through the abdomen—

This would both stabilize the chakra's circulation and prevent it from becoming chaotic, while also expanding the space in the dantian with the energy that continued to flow in.

When the first wisp of chakra entered his dantian,

Saitama officially stepped into the world of shinobi.

From that moment on, was Saitama an apprentice shinobi?

After his first success, everything that followed went more smoothly.

He continually drew energy from his limbs and poured it into his dantian.

The warmth grew stronger, and his cross-legged posture relaxed further.

With his extraordinary talent, gathering chakra came as naturally to him as breathing.

A skill that took ordinary people a week of hard practice to master

took Saitama no more than the snap of a finger.

Whether meditating or refining energy, everything flowed as naturally as instinct.

When Saitama opened his eyes again and stretched his legs,

the energy inside him had reached its limit.

His meridians were filled with a sense of contentment,

like a cat basking in warm sunlight all day.

His young body could only hold so much.

He moved his legs, which weren't the least bit numb or sore,

then neatly put away the things he'd used and prepared to rest.

He didn't know how much time had passed,

but a growing body needed a regular sleep schedule more than anything.

Wouldn't damaging his foundation just to train be putting the cart before the horse?

He closed the door and climbed the stairs beneath the moonlight.

It was already late—probably close to midnight. Saitama had eaten dinner around seven, and refining chakra had taken several hours.

He should go to bed. Tomorrow he'd have to find Uchiha Shisui to keep his promise. Since he'd said he'd treat him to three-color dango, he had to follow through.

After washing his face and feet upstairs, Saitama changed into the dinosaur-print pajamas Granny Xiang had bought him and soon drifted off to sleep.

"I need to get up early tomorrow, so I don't have to listen to Granny Xiang nag me."

In the dim light of dawn, rustling sounds downstairs woke Saitama.

Granny Xiang was old and a light sleeper. She always got up at the Hour of the Tiger to prepare breakfast.

He forced his eyes open and peered through a gap in the curtains. The sky was just beginning to pale, around the start of the Hour of the Rabbit.

After slowly getting dressed and washing up, the boy strolled downstairs.

On the table sat rice balls wrapped in seaweed and stuffed with pork tenderloin, Saitama's favorite breakfast. Uchiha Kaori had always spoiled her grandson, and she naturally did her best to indulge his appetite.

After breakfast, Saitama said goodbye to his grandmother and leisurely stepped outside.

The streets were sparsely populated in the morning mist. A few Uchiha clan members on duty patrolled, yawning incessantly. The clan had led the Konoha Military Police Force for generations, and all its members were required to serve after graduating from the Ninja Academy. They rarely took part in village affairs—though there were exceptions.

Saitama's home was in the southern part of the clan district. Though it wasn't in the central area, it was still within Konoha's heart. The Nine-Tails' Rebellion was still some time away, and the Uchiha Clan had yet to be ostracized and relocated to the outskirts of the village.