The stretcher jolted so much he wanted to throw up.
Shuo felt like a tattered rag, carried on a makeshift stretcher by two Konoha Chunin as they stumbled over the uneven forest floor.
Every jolt made the wound in his chest feel as though a knife were slicing through it.
"Hang in there, kid! We're almost at camp!" the Chunin carrying the front shouted over his shoulder, his back drenched in sweat.
Shuo didn't even have the strength to roll his eyes. He could only grumble inwardly: Hang in there for what... fast or slow, it hurts either way... what a pain...
Kentaro, beside him, had only injured his arm and could run along himself. Every so often, he glanced at Shuo, his gaze as complicated as a color palette. Presumably, his head was full of that bizarre golden light in the valley and those even stranger lines.
[Ding! Passive ability "Preliminary Light Particle Activation" remains active. Cell repair speed +0.5%, pain perception -1%. Please maintain a "laid-back" mindset to aid light energy affinity.]
Fine, at least it reduces the pain.
Shuo simply went completely limp. Whatever happened, happened.
Once he embraced giving up, the burning in his wound actually seemed to ease just a tiny bit. He wasn't sure whether it was psychological.
Konoha's frontline camp was a chaotic jumble of wounded soldiers, supplies, and messenger ninja running back and forth.
Shuo was carried straight into the medical tent, where the heavy smell of blood mingled with medicinal odors.
A female medical ninja with a tired face but sharp eyes came over to examine him, pressing a green-glowing hand against his chest.
"Three broken ribs, internal trauma and bleeding, depleted chakra... serious injuries. But your vital signs are strangely stable..." She glanced at Shuo. "Your constitution is rather unusual."
Shuo couldn't be bothered to open his eyes all the way. Keeping them half-lidded, he gave a muffled reply from his throat. "Mm... probably... lucky, I guess...?"
Those little verbal tics! He suddenly remembered the system. Should I be doing that now...?
The medical ninja began treating him with a more precise Mystical Palm Technique. It tingled and prickled, with a little stinging pain.
Shuo drew a breath and gazed at the tent ceiling, remarking in a flat, detached tone, "Medical ninjutsu... every time I see it, I think... how amazing~"
[Ding! Everyday scenario imitation, "expressing mild amazement at something unconventional," successful. Imitation points +3.]
Tch, only three points. Still, better than nothing.
The treatment was quite an ordeal.
When it finally ended, the medical ninja wiped away her sweat. "Your bones are set, and the internal bleeding has stopped, but you need at least two weeks of bed rest. Don't move around."
"Two weeks..." Shuo drew the words out, "I don't want to work" written all over his face. "Bed rest... sounds so boring~"
[Ding! Imitation, "finding reasonable medical instructions troublesome," successful. Imitation points +2.]
His attitude left the medical ninja both amused and exasperated. She shook her head and left.
Not long afterward, an ANBU wearing an animal mask appeared at the tent entrance, his voice icy. "Genin Uchiha Saku, if you can talk, come with me. The higher-ups have questions."
Here it comes.
Supported by Kentaro, Shuo slowly shuffled into a slightly larger tent in the middle of camp.
Three people sat inside: a bandaged Jonin, presumably the camp's acting commander; a bespectacled clerical recorder; and a gloomy old fellow with eyes like knives. Shuo didn't know him, but he felt like someone from Root or the intelligence department.
"Tell us exactly what happened during the encounter," the bandaged Jonin said, his voice reasonably calm.
Kentaro gave a stammering account first, which largely matched the facts: an ambush, their captain killed in action, being surrounded, a hopeless situation... Then he faltered and looked at Shuo.
Everyone's eyes focused on him.
Shuo leaned against Kentaro, unsteady on his feet, and cleared his throat. He knew it was showtime again.
He couldn't sound too energetic, but he couldn't seem completely useless either.
He needed to capture that Kizaru feeling of "I'm giving a report, but my mind is already on vacation."
"Mm... well..." he began, deliberately slowing his speech and adding the weak, breathy quality peculiar to an injured person. "We were... surrounded by rocks... thought we were probably done for..."
He paused, seemingly recalling it. "Then... I don't know why, but my body moved on its own... there seemed to be... a flash of light? And I ended up on a rock nearby..."
His eyes went vacant as he tried to look bewildered. "Maybe... a burst of latent potential?"
[Acting is somewhat exaggerated, but imitation of the manner of "giving a vague and perfunctory report on a serious occasion" is in progress... Imitation points +5.]
"Light?"
The gloomy old fellow immediately seized on the key word, his gaze sharp. "What kind of light? What seals did you form? What technique formula did you use?"
"Seals?" Shuo blinked, looking innocent and confused. "I... I didn't form any seals. I was... scared senseless. How could I remember to form seals? It just felt like... 'whoosh'?" He made a limp, meaningless gesture with his hand.
"Hmph. Evasive."
The old fellow clearly didn't believe him. "A Genin inexplicably displaying what appears to be a sealless Body Flicker Technique in a desperate situation... this requires a thorough examination. Perhaps it has something to do with your Uchiha bloodline?"
Uchiha? Only then did Shuo dig that detail out of a corner of the original owner's memories. Apparently, he really was a peripheral member of the Uchiha Clan. His parents had died young, his talent for chakra was mediocre, and he was a nobody the clan paid no attention to.
That made a pretty good cover.
"The Uchiha kekkei genkai is the Sharingan, not light."
The bandaged Jonin frowned. "Still, Shuo, did you... feel anything unusual at the time? Or say anything unusual?"
Here it comes! Shuo's heart tightened, but he only looked sleepier. He raised a hand to rub his temple, speaking in a tone that said he was trying hard to remember but genuinely couldn't. "Anything unusual? I think... I just felt... those Iwagakure guys were such a pain... yes, I think I said that... I don't remember anything else."
He coughed twice at just the right moment, looking very weak.
[Ding! Naturally expressed a "core catchphrase" during a formal inquiry and successfully misdirected its focus. Imitation rating: good. Imitation points +8!]
The old fellow wanted to press further, but the bandaged Jonin waved a hand. "Enough. He's badly injured and needs rest. We'll investigate the details when the fighting eases a little. Both of you survived the ambush and brought back some intelligence on the enemy squad"-meaning the numbers and forehead protector designs Kentaro had observed-"which counts as a contribution. Go recuperate for now."
Shuo breathed a sigh of relief inwardly, though he still looked half-dead. "Yes... thank you, sir." With Kentaro supporting him, he slowly turned and shuffled out.
Just as they were about to leave the tent, the gloomy old fellow abruptly tossed another icy remark after him. "Rest well, boy. The village will be watching your 'potential.'"
With his back to them, Shuo gave an almost imperceptible twist of his lips at those words. Watching me? What a pain.
He didn't turn around, only drawing out a feeble reply. "Yes-understood-"
Only after leaving the tent and feeling the breeze outside did Shuo notice the chill on his back. He had broken out in a thin sweat.
It wasn't fear. It was mental exhaustion. Playing dumb took quite a bit of effort too.
[Current imitation points: 33/100. Unlock progress is encouraging. Please keep working hard between bouts of slacking off.]
"Light-Speed Kick: Faint Spark" needs fifty points... still a little short. As he pondered where to scrape together some more imitation points, he heard a commotion from the training ground nearby.
Several Chunin who also looked as though they had just rotated off duty to rest were practicing shurikenjutsu there. One of them, a big fellow with an equally big voice, seemed to have just heard about Shuo and Kentaro's "lucky" escape and was joking loudly with his companions.
"If you ask me, those Iwagakure bastards were just useless! Five Chunin surrounded two Genin, and both still made it back? If I'd been there, I'd have dropped every last one! No need to end up in such a sorry state. And 'whoosh, a flash of light'? Making up stories, are we?"
His companions burst out laughing.
Kentaro flushed red and wanted to argue, but Shuo gave him a gentle tug.
Shuo lifted his eyelids and looked at the loudmouthed Chunin.
The man looked back, a trace of contempt and provocation in his eyes.
Under ordinary circumstances, or with a hot-blooded protagonist in his place, someone would probably have gone over to argue already.
But Shuo merely watched him for a few seconds, then slowly sighed.
It was an extraordinarily drawn-out sigh, full of helpless resignation at just how many idiots the world contained.
Then, at a volume just loud enough for the others to hear clearly without sounding as though he were deliberately calling out, he spoke to Kentaro, who was supporting him.
"Kentaro..."
"Huh? Shuo?"
"Look over there..."
Shuo limply pointed toward the training ground with his uninjured arm, his tone full of confusion and... a tiny bit of distaste. "Why do some people always... like to take something like 'being lucky enough not to die' and turn it into a contest over who's louder? All that noise is making my wound... hurt a little~"
His voice was low and drawn-out, but every word was clear. That final lilt, in particular, captured the essence perfectly.
The training ground fell silent for a moment.
The loudmouthed Chunin's face instantly went red.
[Ding! Successfully executed a "precision verbal strike" in a noncombat scenario, perfectly reproducing "Kizaru-Style Taunt (innocent version)." Extremely high situational compatibility! Imitation points +12! Critical hit!] [Congratulations! Imitation points have reached 45!]
Nice!
Shuo rejoiced inwardly, while his face retained that same half-dead, sleepy look.
He stopped looking over there and told Kentaro, "Let's go. Help me back... to lie down. Standing... is exhausting."
The two slowly shuffled toward the wounded soldiers' tent.
Behind them, the subdued voice of one of the loudmouth's companions drifted faintly over. "Forget it, forget it. Why pick a fight with someone badly injured... but why does that kid sound so... punchable?"
Another voice replied quietly, "...You're not wrong. A bit. Makes you mad, but you don't know how to let it out."
Listening to the faint murmurs, Shuo narrowed his eyes and gazed at the flag fluttering over the distant Konoha camp. Much of the gloom brought on by transmigrating and being badly injured suddenly lifted.
Imitating Kizaru... didn't seem to be entirely a pain, after all.
At least getting under people's skin felt pretty good.
He licked his still slightly cracked lips and calculated: Forty-five points. Just find any excuse to drawl a couple more lines, or somewhere to demonstrate "shirking work," and I'll hit fifty soon enough.
Then... "Light-Speed Kick: Faint Spark"...
He glanced at the backs of those Chunin on the training ground, and a thought suddenly popped into his head.
Testing my kick on them... probably wouldn't be appropriate?
Forget it. A tree or a rock would do too.
Anyway, one step at a time~
He yawned, sunlight falling across his rather bloodless face.
After all, the road of working for a living... no, getting stronger, was still a long one.
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