The soft blue glow of the system pulsed gently in the darkness, casting ripples of faint light across the walls of Haruko's small room. It felt alive—but not intrusive. Present, yet quiet.
A new string of prompts bloomed before his eyes:
[ Hero Alignment Required ] [ Choose Initial Integration Template ]
Three silhouettes shimmered into view—statuesque and unmoving, yet brimming with barely-contained power.
Juggernaut – Master of swordplay and survival, a whirlwind of resilience.
Riki – Trickster and shadow, built for deception and sudden death.
Phantom Assassin – Focused, silent, precise—a dagger in the dark.
Haruko studied them carefully.
Juggernaut was bold and open, spinning chaos and unstoppable fury. Riki was chaotic, playful, but erratic. But Phantom Assassin—her stance was still, almost meditative. Her eyes were veiled. She didn't demand attention. She erased herself from it.
"Strike unseen. Leave no echo."
The message wasn't written. It wasn't spoken. It was simply there.
Haruko reached out and made his choice.
[ Hero Selected: Phantom Assassin ] [ Integration Initiated – 1.0% ] [ Passive Skill Acquired: Blur (Tier 0) – Reduces user's visibility when idle or non-hostile ]
"A blade remembers no name—only the silence before the cut."
A subtle chill passed through him, like air flowing over cold steel.
His body didn't change, but his presence did. Or rather, it began to unfold. His breathing slowed. His weight on the floor felt softer, more spread out. Even the ticking of the small wall clock seemed to quiet.
He stood slowly, testing the sensation. No flare of chakra. No rush of power. Just… less. Less presence. Less disturbance. Like he'd been wrapped in soft fog.
He stepped past a mirror and caught the faintest blur in the edges. A distortion. He could still see himself—but he wouldn't have noticed himself, had he not been looking.
Blur.
It wasn't invisibility. It was forgettability. Was this the system tapping into chakra, or something entirely beyond it? He didn't know—but it felt more natural than any energy he'd ever imagined.
It was working.
And just the beginning.
He tested the ability that very night. As Ayaka moved through the kitchen preparing tea, Haruko remained motionless behind the doorway. Her footsteps neared, paused, and passed. She hadn't seen him.
He crept out later, staying close to the walls, matching his movements to the creaks in the floorboards. A patrol ninja passed the window—Haruko froze—and the system blinked faintly.
[ Blur Active ] [ Evasion Milestone Logged – 1/10 ]
His heart pounded—not from fear, but from a creeping awe. Something in him had changed. Something was growing. It worked. Not invisibility, but suggestion—he wasn't important enough to notice.
The next morning, he tried again. Sitting still beside the open shop door, he watched as two customers entered. Neither acknowledged him, even when their eyes passed over his form.
[ Blur Passive Enhanced in Ambient Crowd Conditions ] [ Integration Progress: 1.2% ]
It was subtle, but growing. The system didn't hand him strength. It asked for effort. Rewarded understanding. Every test was logged. Every movement mattered.
And still, no one around him knew a thing.
It was working.
The following week became a personal experiment. Each day, Haruko created small games for himself. How long could he remain unseen in the shop? Could he sneak through the tool storage without dislodging a single nail? How far could he walk behind a patrolling genin before they noticed?
[ Blur Duration Milestone Achieved – 3/10 ] [ Integration Progress: 1.65% ]
His senses were sharpening. He started noticing the sound of sandals over gravel, the sigh of worn doors before they creaked. When a bird landed near him in the alley and didn't immediately fly away, he smiled faintly.
Some nights, he would practice crawling silently across the roof. The tiles weren't uniform—some loose, some tight—and he mapped them mentally like a puzzle. It took a week, but he eventually learned a full silent path from his window to the chimney.
One evening, he nearly tripped when Ayaka came upstairs unexpectedly. His foot caught the edge of a mat—he froze instinctively.
[ Passive Blur Engagement – Success Registered ] [ Evasion Milestone: 4/10 ]
She paused at the doorway, eyes drifting toward him.
Then turned away.
He exhaled quietly and smiled again.
It was working.
But outside this quiet cocoon, something new waited—the Academy.
And just the beginning.