At six in the morning, before the mechanical wall clock had reached the hour, Naruto Uzumaki opened his eyes right on time.
The biological clock etched into his soul since his days in the Warhammer World was more reliable than any precision instrument.
He never lingered in bed. The instant his brain powered up, the day's schedule loaded automatically.
Inspect the Arsenal's repair progress, approve compensation payments, convene a high-level Dragon Vein Energy meeting.
Throwing back the thin blanket, his left hand automatically reached for the tactical combat boots by the bed.
Then the motion abruptly froze.
A sharp, twisting pain surged up from deep in his abdomen, as though high-frequency vibrating blades were wildly cutting through his chakra pathways.
The lingering radiation from his close-range contact with Dragon Vein materials last night was now brutally spreading along his chakra circuits.
Naruto Uzumaki lowered his head and glanced down.
A faint layer of purple blotches showed through his skin—the irrefutable proof of Dragon Vein Energy eroding his cell walls.
He did not call the medical unit. Over the past few years, he had long grown used to quantifying pain and injuries as data.
His current pain index had not yet maxed out, and it would not affect normal operations at all.
Taking a deep breath, he forcibly suppressed his body's protests.
He pulled on a faded army-green jacket, zipped it all the way up, and strode out of the bedroom.
The living room glowed under warm yellow lights, with a steaming breakfast laid out on the table.
Minato Namikaze sat on the sofa, flipping through yesterday's Konoha Daily. The sizzle of frying eggs came from the kitchen.
"Morning," Minato greeted casually.
Naruto Uzumaki did not respond. He walked to the entryway and grabbed the engineering briefing and the house keys.