Childhood in the Puppet Repair Squad

In Konoha Year 39, time had not fully made up for the congenital deficiencies caused by his premature birth. Compared with children his age, he still seemed excessively small and thin, his complexion carrying an unhealthy pallor, his breathing always fainter than others'. A slightly stronger sandstorm could leave him coughing endlessly and running a low fever. Shaliu simply did not dare leave him home alone, much less entrust him to someone else's care. Thus, the Fourth Puppet Corps Logistics Maintenance Squad became Shaye's second home—and the place where he spent the most time.

The maintenance squad was located inside a massive cavern workshop deep within Hidden Sand Village. It was relatively sheltered from the wind, and the air year-round carried a peculiar scent—the fresh fragrance of wood shavings, the slick smell of metal lubricating oil, the faintly astringent tang unique to chakra-conducting metal, all mixed with the ever-present trace of fine sand and dust.

Using discarded yet sturdy puppet boards, Shaliu had enclosed a small "safe zone" for Shaye in a dry, wind-sheltered corner of the workshop. Soft blankets covered the floor, while clean water and easily digestible food were kept inside. It kept him away from the adults' hurried footsteps and potentially falling tools, while still allowing Shaye to clearly see the entire workshop in operation.

At first, Shaye spent most of his time asleep. His frail body made him tire easily.

But as his waking hours gradually grew longer, that corner became an excellent observation point.

His eyes—the eyes of a man with a thirty-year-old soul—began greedily taking in the thing in this unfamiliar world that felt most familiar and exciting to him: puppets.

The maintenance squad was bustling with activity. Ninja in gray work uniforms—though they looked less like ninja at the moment than a group of meticulous craftsmen—worked around all sorts of incomplete, scorched, and broken puppets.

Clang! Clang! Hammers struck deformed metal joints, trying to restore them to their original positions.

"Zzzzt—" Carving knives precisely traced the grooves of chakra-conducting circuits, scraping away charred residue.

"Bzz..." A simple lathe spun as someone carved a new wooden puppet component.

The air echoed with sawing, filing, quiet discussions, and clipped orders.

Shaye's black eyes watched it all without blinking.

The strangely shaped parts scattered across the floor—gears, connecting rods, bearings, ball-and-socket joints, metal plates carved with intricate patterns... in his eyes, they were not cold, lifeless objects, but works of art containing a certain logic and charm.

He watched an older man clamp a damaged puppet arm onto a workbench and carefully pry open its casing with a specialized tool, revealing the even more precise transmission mechanisms within and chakra metal wires as fine as nerves. Frowning, the man used tweezers to sort, reconnect, and test them bit by bit, until the fingers of the scorched arm suddenly twitched with a soft "click." A gratified smile appeared on his face.

He watched his father, Shaliu. As squad leader, Shaliu not only repaired the most complex core components, but also coordinated and assigned the work. His fingers were rough, yet exceptionally steady. By touch alone, he could judge the degree of wear in a bearing, and with a glance, spot the point where a chakra circuit was blocked. He was quiet and reserved, but his instructions were clear. Occasionally, he would work personally, demonstrating how to repair a crucial connection more efficiently.

All of it made Shaye's heartbeat quicken uncontrollably.

Thirty years of memories from his previous life surged up like a tide. He had been Liu Yu, a mechanical and automation engineer who spent every day with blueprints, code, machine tools, and production lines. His hobbies were handcrafting—the metallic sheen filed out at a bench vise, the fresh scent of curled wood shavings in a woodworking shop, the satisfaction of watching a part gradually take shape beneath a lathe's cutting tool. His dream had been to build a large "Gundam" model that could run and jump. It was not merely a boy's romantic fantasy, but the ultimate embodiment of his engineering soul.

And though the power source in this world had changed from electricity and fuel to the mysterious "chakra," those transmission structures, mechanical principles, and craftsman's pursuit of perfection were so alike!

Chakra... was it some kind of supernatural motor powered by biological energy? Cross-world associations began bursting from Shaye's little mind. Those patterns carved onto the parts were energy circuits? The equivalent of circuit boards?

This gear set is cleverly designed, but the lubrication seems problematic. The desert environment causes too much wear. Maybe a sealing structure more resistant to sand and dust could be used instead?

That joint's range of motion is limited. If I added a universal joint design from my previous life, wouldn't its flexibility improve enormously?

And that... looks like the most basic differential structure? My god, people in this world achieved such precise mechanical movement with nothing but chakra and this kind of handcraft!

A tremendous rush of excitement struck him. This world had things familiar to him, but also a mysterious power system he could not comprehend. What would be born from combining the two?

In his previous life, he could not build a real Gundam, because energy sources, materials, and drive systems had all been insurmountable barriers. But what about here? Here, there was chakra, an incredible source of energy; special metals capable of conducting energy; and Puppet Technique, which could produce incredibly complex movements!

An unprecedented, mad, burning thought ignited within his tiny chest.

Was it possible... in this world, to use these puppet technologies together with the mechanical knowledge from my previous life to truly create something?

Even if... it was only a small model that could walk on its own?

Or perhaps... someday...

His gaze passed over the damaged puppets being repaired and fell upon several obsolete puppet models piled in a corner of the workshop. Though battered and broken, their structures remained intact. They stood there silently, like sleeping giants of steel.

At that moment, the unfinished dream from his previous life seemed like a deeply buried seed that had found the soil best suited to it in this Hidden Sand workshop filled with the smells of machine oil and chakra.

Though his body was still weak, and even standing took effort, a different kind of light shone in Shaye's black eyes. It was the light of an engineer seeing a beloved project, the light of a craftsman discovering exceptional material.

He stretched out his tiny hand, still without much strength, as though he wanted to grasp the invisible inspiration and possibilities in the air.

This world was dangerous, and his start had been terrible.

But here, there were "machines."

That was enough.