It was already night when Naruto returned from training, took a shower, and had dinner. The house was silent, and that silence — which on other days felt merely empty — was now useful. He needed it to think.

  On the table, several papers were spread out, some folded, others crumpled at the edges, as if they had been read and reread until they lost their shape. Naruto skimmed one, then another, and the more he read, the more his expression hardened — not with anger, but with realization. With reality.

  In the end, he let the papers fall as if releasing a weight, rested his forearms on the table, and exhaled.

  ‘I knew learning the Hiraishin no Jutsu would be complicated, but I didn’t expect there to be this much to learn.’

  It wasn’t just about “memorizing hand seals” or “copying formus.” The jutsu wasn’t a common technique, not even among kinjutsu. It was an entire system. A logic. A discipline that demanded, above all else, a solid foundation.

  He picked up another paper, filled with notes on inscriptions, anchor concepts, and stabilization. His eyes ran over passages that described affinity — not elemental, but spatial — a rare sensitivity, almost a kind of “tolerance” in one’s own chakra to distort distance.

  ‘First I need to learn fūinjutsu… then test spatial affinity… and only then put everything together to master the jutsu.’

  He didn’t have the childish illusion that he could master something on that level just because he had money, or because he had a system. The system was a tool — a powerful one — but it wasn’t a magic wand. And Hiraishin was exactly the kind of technique that punished arrogance.

  Naruto picked up a pencil, pulled a bnk sheet toward him, and began to write. Not in the messy way of someone scribbling just “so they wouldn’t forget,” but like someone building an operational pn.

  His handwriting was firm. Direct. Short lines.

  ‘Let’s break it into parts.’

  He wrote one column beled “time,” another “objective,” and another “number of clones.” Then he started filling it in without hesitation:

  ‘To study fūinjutsu, I’ll create 15 clones — this will be the most time-consuming part.’

  Fūinjutsu wasn’t just technique; it was nguage. It was comprehension. It was learning to think like someone who writes a structure that binds, guides, limits, stores. It was learning to respect symbols and flow. And that consumed time.

  Then he wrote:

  ‘Then 10 clones to train the summoning jutsu.’

  Summoning was an intermediate step, but an important one. Not because of the jutsu itself — he already knew summoning was more of an “invitation” than “force” — but because it trained connection, the act of “pulling” something across distance safely. In a way, it was a conversation with space itself.

  ‘5 clones to continue chakra control training…’

  Control. The foundation. Without control, any pn became wasted effort. Naruto knew he had an advantage with clones, but he also knew clones didn’t repce discipline. The mind could learn, but the body had to keep up. If he didn’t refine control, his chakra would keep fluctuating, and any complex technique would become unstable.

  ‘And 10 more clones for elemental jutsu, splitting 2 for each element.’

  Fire, wind, water, earth, lightning — even if he wasn’t using all of them at full strength yet, he needed to build a repertoire. It wasn’t about “having” jutsu. It was about being versatile enough not to be trapped in a single solution.

  When he finished pnning, Naruto set the pencil down and stared at the paper for a few seconds. There was a path there. Not perfect, not guaranteed — but still a path.

  He stood and walked to the window. The moon was high and bright, its light carving the vilge into thin shadows.

  ‘There are about two years left until the massacre happens…’

  The thought came like a countdown. A cold reminder. The timeline didn’t forgive.

  ‘If I manage to get some Sharingan… I could trade them for points.’

  He knew the value that would have to the system — and, more importantly, the value it would have to him. The Sharingan was power. It was market. It was currency and weapon at the same time.

  But there was an “if.”

  ‘But if I can’t learn Hiraishin… it’ll be better to just wait and save the monthly interest income.’

  The rational part of him said that without emotion: if you don’t have the right tool, don’t risk it. Grow safely. Accumute. Strengthen the basics.

  But Naruto also knew something else.

  The world didn’t wait.

  He kept looking at the moon for a while longer, as if that piece of sky could answer him. His chest rose and fell in controlled calm.

  “Well… better focus on what I can do right now.”

  And as soon as he said that, he didn’t stay still. Naruto leapt out the window without making a sound and began running, fast and light, toward the Forest of Death.

  ---

  The Forest of Death felt different at night. Even when the wind was the same, even when the leaves swayed, there was a weight there — a kind of presence that reminded the body that this pce wasn’t meant for “strolls.”

  Naruto moved by jumping from branch to branch, his body flowing as if the forest were a familiar corridor. His gaze was sharp, sweeping below and ahead, searching for signs: marks on the ground, scents, movement, silence out of pattern.

  He wasn’t there to hunt out of hunger.

  He was hunting for the future.

  “Isn’t there anything decent?”

  Frustration slipped into his voice before he could stop it. It wasn’t loss of control; just the wear of two hours repeating the same pattern: search, evaluate, discard. Search, evaluate, discard.

  Many of the creatures there were useless for what he wanted. Too small. Too unstable. No potential. Or dangerous in the wrong way: dangerous to him now, without offering any real return.

  Naruto kept moving, but inside he was calcuting. Time spent. Energy spent. The window of opportunity.

  Just as he was about to accept that he’d try again the next day, a sound ahead cut through the forest’s pattern — a short noise, of flesh tearing and bones being crushed in haste.

  Naruto didn’t waste time. He shifted direction midair and advanced.

  He stopped on a thick branch, perfectly still, and locked his gaze on the target.

  A bck-furred wolf.

  It was still a cub, but not a newborn — about five months old, maybe a bit more. Its body was compact, its paws firm, and its eyes… its eyes held something beyond hunger. There was instinct there. Simple calcution, but real. It was eating a rabbit it had apparently hunted itself.

  Naruto evaluated quickly: weight, muscles, reaction. A cub with that kind of efficiency had room to grow. And a wolf — especially one with that color and posture — could become more than just “an animal.”

  A summon needed identity. Spirit. A certain kind of presence.

  Naruto decided.

  Without hesitation, he jumped from the tree and nded on the ground with practiced ease, absorbing the impact through his legs.

  The wolf startled, its whole body turning on reflex, and it growled, baring its teeth. Small, but brave. Ready to die if it had to.

  “Easy, little guy.”

  Naruto spoke in an almost light tone, but his hand was already moving to his pocket. He pulled out a scroll and, with a flick, released a cloud of smoke.

  The wolf lost sight for a moment and braced itself to attack — body low, neck tense, paws firm.

  When the smoke cleared and its vision returned, the sight before it made it freeze.

  Several chunks of meat, scattered across the ground.

  The smell was strong, real, and to a predator, that kind of scent was an order. The wolf couldn’t tell what kind of meat it was — and it didn’t need to. Its eyes gleamed with a simple certainty: it was food, and there was a lot of it.

  “Come on. Don’t be shy. It’s all yours.”

  Naruto looked like a vilin trying to lure a child with candy. The difference was that he wasn’t offering a “lie” — the meat was real. The trap was only in the context.

  The wolf hesitated for a second… but instinct beat pride. It rushed forward and began devouring whatever piece it could find, as if afraid it would all disappear if it took too long.

  Naruto watched without moving. Without hurry.

  The prey had fallen into the trap.

  And now its fate was already sealed.

  ---

  When Naruto finally moved again, he was already leaving the forest. His pace, once fast, was now slower. Not because he was too tired — but because he was satisfied enough to slow down.

  A discreet smile lingered on his face.

  ‘It took a while… but I finally managed to find a promising summoning beast.’

  He didn’t need to say anything else. To him, that was an important piece locking into pce on the board. A summon wasn’t just “an animal that fights.” It was mobility, support, tracking, partnership. Depending on the contract, it could be much more.

  And there was another advantage: a summon could grow with him. It could be shaped. Trained. Raised with loyalty — not bought.

  Naruto held onto that quiet satisfaction for a few more moments.

  Until he noticed.

  The air changed.

  A subtle vibration — that sensation that came before real danger. Not an animal. Not chance. Human intent.

  Something was approaching fast.

  ‘Naruto… there are three people approaching. And they don’t have good intentions.’

  Kurama’s voice surfaced in his mind as a rough presence, without delicacy.

  Over the years, they didn’t talk much. It wasn’t friendship. It was forced coexistence. But the retionship wasn’t as bad as before — not after the promise. Naruto had said he would find a way to free her again. And Kurama, suspicious as she was, had accepted out of ck of options.

  Naruto stopped.

  He didn’t hide. He didn’t run. He simply stood there, waiting, as if he’d scheduled a meeting.

  In a few seconds, three figures emerged and stopped in front of him.

  They looked like ANBU. Masks. Posture. Silence. The kind of presence meant to intimidate just by occupying space.

  But Naruto knew exactly who they were — and he knew who had sent them.

  One of them opened his mouth, maybe to speak, maybe to recite a script.

  Naruto interrupted first, already drawing a kunai and pointing it straight at them, without a tremor.

  “I already know what you’re going to say.”

  His voice wasn’t loud. It was clear.

  “So let’s not waste time talking… let’s just fight.”

  None of them replied. Because, in that instant, there was only one sentence in the air — even without being spoken:

  The battle was about to begin.

  And inside, Naruto felt his body adjust its center of gravity, as if the entire world had shrunk down to the distance between him and those three.

  ‘Three…’ he thought, without taking his eyes off them. ‘This isn’t to scare me. This is to control me. To measure me. Or to eliminate me if I become too much of a “nuisance.”’

  Kurama ughed at her host’s thoughts, a low sound that wasn’t exactly humor — it was something older, crueler.

  She still doubted that Naruto would truly fulfill his promise, but one thing she couldn’t deny:

  ‘This is a very interesting host.’

  (Early access chapters: see the bio.)