!!!
Uchiha Jun froze in terror.
What the hell?! The owner's home?!
The old woman stared straight toward the door. Jun felt a chill creep up his spine like cold iron fingers tracing his back.
Bro… what now? You planning to silence her?!
His thoughts whirled in chaos.
Sure, both he and Obito had been the laughingstocks of the Academy once—the "Three Idiots" of their generation—but they'd never been close.
On purpose.
Jun had always distanced himself from Obito. That kind of extremist attitude… he'd wanted no part of it.
But now? He couldn't just hurt some innocent old lady.
Tap. Tap.
His system-possessed body calmly strode right past the woman.
She didn't move. Just kept staring at the entrance.
Jun blinked.
Wait... is she blind?
He didn't stop. Walked straight into the bedroom, opened a drawer, and pulled out a small box plastered with a girl's photo.
Ding. Soldier pills successfully acquired—free of charge!
Jun: …Of course. "Free."
The box hit the floor. Jun pocketed three pills and turned to leave.
Behind him, the old woman called out:
"Obito? Just got home and already leaving?"
BANG!
Jun's foot slammed the courtyard gate open, his silhouette vanishing into the dark.
"Damn it, he's not even home!"
"Relax, Tekka," said Inaho. "He probably just graduated. Maybe his instructor took him out for dinner—team bonding, you know."
"Hah! Don't make me laugh. That trash actually graduated? Obito I can almost understand, but Jun?"
"Times are different now. With the war, even low-tier shinobi get fast-tracked to the frontlines."
"Well, when that kind gets sent to war, I bet we'll be hearing about their tragic deaths real soon."
"A pathetic end, but still… glory for the clan. Actually, Inaho, I want to go to the battlefield too."
"You're always in a rush," Inaho chuckled. "The clan wants you to grow stronger first. The warzone… that's no playground—wait."
"Huh? What is it?"
"…Isn't that smoke coming from your house?"
Tekka followed his gaze.
His face paled.
"…Crap."
Black smoke billowed into the sky.
By the time they reached it, the fire had already been extinguished, but the wooden structure had gone up fast.
Tekka's house was gone.
A middle-aged shinobi, part of the firefighting team, shook his head and scolded:
"Tekka, what the hell did you leave in your house? Some kind of fire jutsu trap?"
"No—I mean—this can't be happening!" Tekka's voice cracked, eyes wet.
He'd set out to confront someone else—only to come back and find his own place in ashes.
"You better pray your father doesn't kill you when he gets back from the front. Lucky it didn't spread, or I'd have knocked some sense into you myself."
The older shinobi muttered curses as he left.
Inaho sighed and patted Tekka's shoulder.
"Come stay at my place tonight. You'll be alright."
Gulp!
Jun, back on the road, swallowed a soldier pill.
Gulp!
Another.
Two down.
Without a moment's rest, he ran off again.
Step. Step. Step!
This time, at least, the system didn't activate the Eight Gates. Probably because of his chakra depletion.
Still, he had no control—his legs moved on their own, pounding toward the village outskirts.
"Out again, this late?"
A Uchiha guard furrowed his brow as Jun sprinted past without a word.
"Rude little brat."
Step. Step. Step!
Jun popped the final pill while running.
Under system control, even his senses were numbed. He couldn't tell the flavor, texture, or even how well it worked.
Soldier pills—miraculous in early lore, capable of tripling chakra reserves. Later adjusted to "restorative supplements" that varied by recipe and maker.
Judging by the system's rapid consumption of three in a row… Jun figured these were probably low-tier.
That box... was it Rin's?
Did Obito stockpile them and never eat them?
Well, they were his now.
Jun let out a soundless laugh as his body raced toward the riverside.
Time for more hand seals.
Snake → Ram → Monkey → Boar → Horse → Tiger!
"Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu!"
POOF!
The fireball was larger than before, swelling with each repetition.
Ding. Chakra reaching safe limit. Unable to continue training [Great Fireball]. Training automatically switched to [Eight Gates Formation].
Oh come on.
System, please—not taijutsu training! I'm still injured!
"System bro. Can't you show just a little mercy?"
Ding. One-Click Training—always worry-free!
"…You could've just let me eat another soldier pill!"
Jun felt shame creeping into his soul. He was willing to resort to anything—stealing, groveling—just to avoid body-busting workouts with an open wound.
Fine, whatever. Who's the unlucky bastard we're 'stealing from' next? I'll find a way to repay them later…
Ding. [Eight Gates] Training Initiated!
Jun dropped to the ground, supporting himself with his uninjured arm.
Push-ups.
"…Wait. You're telling me no more free pills?"
Was there a daily limit?
Or maybe eating three at once made the system refuse more?
Jun couldn't be sure.
Based on what he remembered about soldier pills, they were dense and slow to digest. Probably not meant to be stacked.
He sighed.
Please. Just… don't use my bad arm.
As if on cue…
His body shifted—putting full weight on the wounded side.
Drip.
Blood soaked through the bandage again.
System… I can't feel pain right now, sure. But are you trying to cripple me?!
Ding. Auto-mode enabled—no worries!
Jun clenched his invisible teeth as he pushed through the reps.
Eventually, it transitioned—
To frog jumps.
Toward the village.
"YOU'RE LITERALLY TRYING TO KILL ME!!"
He screamed inside as blood ran down his arm, dripping onto the dirt path of the Leaf's main road.
—
247, 248, 249…
Uchiha Jun frog-hopped across the streets of Konoha.
Passersby stared.
"Whoa… what's up with that Uchiha kid?"
"Last night I saw him upside-down racing Might Guy around the village. Today, he's full-on jumping like a lunatic."
"He just graduated, didn't he? Must be feeling the pressure."
"Well, with his talent, how much difference can it really make?"
"Hey. C'mon now—look at his shoulder. He's bleeding all over the place. That's… kinda impressive, actually."
"Tch. What if it's fake?"
"Fake?"
"I mean, why isn't he training at the official grounds? Coming out here in public like this—feels like he's trying to show off."
"…Damn. You might have a point."