"Shadow Clone No. 1, you handle Water Release training—and catch some extra fish while you're at it."
"Hey, (original), why am I stuck with fishing duty?"
Shadow Clone No. 1 had attitude. It immediately protested Umino Yoru orders.
Yoru raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So you're saying the food you eat metabolizes as efficiently as mine does?"
The clone shut up instantly.
With shared memories, it knew the truth—just like Naruto's shadow clones, it could eat, even piss if it wanted to. But the food only provided a sense of fullness and maybe a sliver of stamina recovery. It couldn't replace the original's flesh-and-blood digestive advantages.
Not even wood clones could match that. The original body's biological edge was irreplaceable.
"Tch." Shadow Clone No. 1 scoffed but didn't argue further. Grudgingly, it trudged off to train Water Release… and fish.
"Finally learned the Shadow Clone Jutsu. Now I can cheat my way through training."
Umino Yoru 's heart raced. This technique was ridiculously useful—scouting traps, gathering intel, extra hands in battle, handling chores…
But the real prize? Accumulated experience.
With enough chakra and endurance, he could spam clones like Naruto and turn training into a cheat code.
"本体, quit stuffing your face and deal with these fish. They'll lose flavor if they sit too long."
Shadow Clone No. 1 dumped nearly a hundred pounds of freshwater catches onto the shore, glaring as the original leisurely snacked on smoked jerky. It felt less like a clone and more like a pack mule.
Yoru , now replenished from his feast, formed another hand seal.
"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"
A second clone materialized.
"Shadow Clone No. 2, practice sword techniques—and process these fish."
He tossed his filleting knife to the new clone and pulled a bucket of salt from a storage scroll.
"Understood."
Unlike No. 1, this one was all business. It caught the blade and immediately began drills—slicing fish with precision, salting the meat for preservation.
"Hah! Another mule joins the team."
No. 1 smirked, soothed by the shared suffering.
"Again!"
After devouring another ten pounds of jerky, Yoru —now fully energized—summoned more clones.
Within minutes, he had nine shadow clones active.
Not that he couldn't make more—but he wasn't Naruto. No freakish stamina, no Nine-Tails chakra battery. For a normal shinobi, nine clones was already pushing the limit.
The backlash of memories and fatigue upon dispelling them? That's why the Multiple Shadow Clone Jutsu was forbidden.
Still, with practice and chakra growth, he could probably scale up to hundreds eventually. (Thousands like Naruto? No shot.)
…Unless I invent some sci-fi helmet to block the fatigue feedback. Then maybe—
For now, nine clones meant multitasking heaven.
Basic ninjutsu, tool manipulation, hand seals, chakra control—everything could be grinded simultaneously.
Currently, most clones focused on Water Release training and shape manipulation.
The original? His job was digestion, stamina recovery… and taijutsu.
"Nothing beats food therapy. Screw Nara stimulants."
Though he hadn't run lab tests, his body felt it—cells saturated, vitality creeping upward. Years of overusing soldier pills? Compensated.
With this diet, his organs would only grow stronger.
"Thank the gods for the Land of Rivers. In Konoha, this lifestyle would bankrupt me."
A quick calculation made him wince.
50 pounds of fish in one hour.
Assuming fish cost 100 ryō per pound (cheaper than Konoha's markup), that's 5,000 ryō per hour.
10 hours a day? 50,000 ryō.
A month? 1.5 million ryō.
"…Holy shit."
A C-rank mission paid 10,000–50,000 ryō. As team leader on border patrol (10-day cycles = 1 C-rank), he earned 20,000+ ryō per rotation.
Yearly income: 720,000 ryō.
Respectable! Enough to buy a house in Konoha.
But compared to 18 million ryō in annual food costs?
No wonder the Akimichi stay low-key. Their strength is literally bought.
Without his Infrasonic Radar enabling free, infinite fishing? He'd be broke in two weeks.
"Still, fish alone won't cut it. Need carbs and veggies—or my body'll rebel."
Wild vegetables were easy—send a clone foraging.
But grains?
Buying was out. Frontline prices were extortionate—double Konoha's rates at minimum.
"Fine. I'll trade smoked fish for supplies."
In wartime, food was currency. His jerky would sell well.
A grin spread.
…Actually, this could be a business.
"All Water Release clones—after training, empty the river. Every. Last. Fish."
If you're gonna exploit nature, exploit it dry.