On Turtle Island, a man with short blond hair and dark sunglasses was in the middle of training.
It was none other than Killer Beeee, the Eight-Tails' jinchūriki, who had suffered a crushing defeat two years ago during the war between Konoha and Kumogakure.
Even now, the memory of that battle remained vivid in his mind.
Even after transforming into the fully manifested Eight-Tails form, he had still been split open and dragged out of Gyūki's body by that terrifying man from the Uchiha clan — the strongest Uchiha he'd ever seen.
That defeat had carved itself into his pride.
Beeee knew it wasn't Gyūki's fault.
He himself hadn't mastered the full power of the complete transformation — it was too raw, too unrefined.
If his control had been tighter, if his fusion with Gyūki had been more precise, he might not have been torn apart so easily.
And even when it came to swordsmanship — his pride and joy — he'd lost too.
It wasn't that his skill was lacking.
The other man's physical strength and technique were simply beyond comprehension.
Beeee had felt then, for the first time, what it meant for raw power to overwhelm style.
So ever since that day, he'd been training in isolation on this island — honing his chakra control, refining his tailed beast chakra to make it sharper, cleaner, and more condensed.
At the same time, he'd been pushing his taijutsu to new extremes.
Over the last two years, his strength had improved drastically.
Beeut deep down, he knew — he still wasn't that man's equal.
That man's mastery of the Eight Gates was monstrous.
So he kept swinging his blades, one after another, sweat flicking off his skin, determination burning in his chest.
His failure had cost the entire Hidden Cloud dearly.
If only he had been strong enough back then — maybe their village wouldn't have fallen so far.
Meanwhile, Ryōsuke Uchiha was using the teleportation ability of his Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan to travel across the ocean after leaving Kumogakure.
After several long-distance jumps, he felt the strain on his right eye.
The ocular power was running low, so he chose to deactivate it for now — he'd need it fresh for his next target, the Eight-Tails.
Among the Uchiha, Madara's greatest pride had been his Eternal Mangekyō.
Its third divine power — Susanoo — coupled with the clan's famed Fire Release made him nearly unstoppable.
Beeut Ryōsuke believed his own flames burned even hotter.
After all, his chakra reserves were immense — and fire techniques scale directly with chakra volume.
In that sense, his Fire Release could even surpass Madara's.
Madara had also possessed terrifying physical prowess.
Even after his resurrection, he had crushed the entire Allied Shinobi Forces singlehandedly.
His combination of Sharingan insight and superhuman taijutsu allowed him to effortlessly defeat Tobirama Senju, who wielded the Flying Thunder God Technique.
That level of strength was legendary.
Yet Ryōsuke couldn't help but smirk.
"If I fought him now, I'd crush him."
He opened his personal status panel to check his current stats:
Host: Uchiha Ryōsuke
Strength: 925 — Training at lightning speed
Speed: 925 — Training at lightning speed
Constitution: 925 — Training at lightning speed
Spirit: 500 — Training at lightning speed
Chakra: 100 K — Training at lightning speed
Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan:In accelerated growth
Clone Technique:In accelerated growth
Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu:In accelerated growth
Eight Gates Released: Seven Gates open
System Evaluation:"Invincible Overlord of the Ninja World."
Looking at the near-thousand stats, Ryōsuke couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction.
This was the result of endless training — day after day, year after year.
In a world as dangerous as the shinobi world, he couldn't afford to slack off.
When he first transmigrated here, he had been a powerless Uchiha destined to be exterminated within a few years.
He had to grow strong — fast.
Otherwise, he wouldn't even survive long enough to keep his eyes.
Now, he finally felt secure.
No matter who came next — he was confident he could tear off their heads with his bare hands.
Even the so-called gods of the Ōtsutsuki clan?
Beey the time they appeared, he thought, he'd be a god himself — or close enough to one.
For now, though, his current stats already placed him beyond human limits.
Even if Madara were resurrected again, Ryōsuke could outmatch him in pure taijutsu alone.
His spirit energy had also soared.
Since spiritual strength and chakra capacity were deeply linked, his chakra pool had now reached a staggering 100 K — rivaling the Nine-Tails itself.
The "Tailed Beeeast without a Tail," Kisame Hoshigaki, couldn't compare anymore.
Kisame's chakra might rival a lesser beast like the Three-Tails or Six-Tails, but the Nine-Tails was in a different league entirely — the apex among all bijū.
Even in the Fourth Shinobi War, the Nine-Tails had fought the other eight alone and still held its ground.
That was why Hashirama had chosen to keep it within Konoha — to protect the balance of the world.
The tales called it a "limitless chakra beast," and while that was an exaggeration, it wasn't far from the truth.
For an ordinary shinobi, such chakra would never run dry.
Even with his constant use of high-cost techniques — Eight Gates, Susanoo, Fire Release — Ryōsuke could fight indefinitely.
His recovery rate and stamina had become practically infinite.
A human army could never wear him down.
That's why the system's title — "Invincible Overlord of the Ninja World" — felt perfectly apt.
Satisfied, Ryōsuke deactivated his panel and stepped forward.
He ran straight across the surface of the sea, feet barely touching the water.
If anyone had been sailing nearby, they would have seen a black blur darting across the waves like a missile — leaving only ripples in his wake.
After several hours of high-speed travel, a massive spherical island came into view on the horizon.
That was Turtle Island — the living fortress on the back of an enormous turtle.
Landing silently on its shore, Ryōsuke closed his eyes and spread his senses.
Almost immediately, he felt a massive, familiar chakra signature pulsing from the center of the island — raw, heavy, and unmistakable.
"That's definitely the Eight-Tails."
He smirked and began walking toward the source.
Beeefore long, he arrived at a clearing in the island's heart.
There, a man wearing sunglasses and surrounded by a crimson cloak of tailed beast chakra was practicing his unique seven-blade sword dance — each blade spinning with deadly precision.
It was him.
Killer Beeee.
The Eight-Tails' jinchūriki.
And Ryōsuke's next target.
From Ryōsuke's perspective, though, those "expert" sword moves looked almost laughably simple.
Ordinary people might find them dazzling, but to him — they were nothing more than child's play.
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