"…He really is dead."
The man didn't even bother checking for a pulse. Instead, he gave the boy's limp body one final kick. When Ryan showed no sign of life, the man let out a cold snort, completely unmoved by the idea that a life had just been extinguished. In fact, there was even a trace of satisfaction in his voice.
"Trash will always be trash. Just kicked him a little harder than usual and he croaked? Couldn't train, couldn't work… nothing but a mouth to feed. He was a waste of food anyway—good riddance." The short, heavyset man muttered with contempt, his words as heartless as his tone.
"Burying this good-for-nothing would be too much effort… and cost too much. I'll just dump his body outside the village. Let the wild wolves deal with it." Muttering to himself, the man turned and walked out, likely going to fetch a sack or rope to dispose of the body.
But before he returned, Ryan's eyes slowly opened.
"Chakra… Star Hidden Village?"
He whispered to himself as consciousness returned, his voice low and a little hoarse. The stabbing pain that had once filled his body was gone now, and he could move freely. His gaze scanned the crude sack that held him, then drifted to his surroundings. There was no shock in his expression, only a bitter smile.
Because Ryan had inherited the memories of the boy whose body he now possessed.
—
"I can't believe I gave birth to such useless garbage! Even your little brother, who's a year younger than you, is ten times stronger. Your meridians are blocked, you can't refine chakra, and you dare call yourself my son? Disgrace!"
Smack!
A pudgy hand slammed across the boy's head, knocking him to the floor. He was only four years old that year. His face swelled immediately, dark bruises blooming on his tender skin.
—
"Useless thing! Can't even carry a bucket of water?! What's the point of keeping you alive?"
Thud!
A bucket splashed to the ground as the boy, now five, was kicked straight in the chest. Water soaked the floor. No one cared.
—
"Lazy worm! Sleeping again? Might as well beat you to death and save the rice!"
The same drunken, raging man kicked the boy repeatedly while swigging wine. The child had only fainted from hunger. That was just yesterday.
Back in the present, Ryan sat still in silence, his expression complicated. "They say even a tiger doesn't eat its cubs…"
He laughed at the irony.
In his old life, Ryan's parents had loved him dearly. He used to brush off news of child abuse as exaggerated or misunderstood "strict parenting." But now, after absorbing the memories of this boy…
He finally understood what it truly meant to be abused.
All of this had started when the boy was three years old. A routine chakra examination revealed that his meridians were blocked—he couldn't refine chakra at all. From that moment on, his life became hell.
Every morning, before the sun rose, he was forced to wake and work. His daily rations? Two dry, tasteless buns. He worked until midnight before being allowed to sleep.
At five or six years old, the boy was tasked with carrying buckets heavier than himself, chopping piles of firewood, washing all the family's clothes, and cooking meals for the entire household… yet he was never allowed a single bite.
It was inhuman.
The boy had long grown numb to it all. All he ever wanted was one good night's sleep. Just one. But even that small dream never came true.
When Ryan absorbed the boy's memories, what shocked him most was this—
The boy had wished for death.
Yes. At only six years old… he saw death as liberation.
He had been starved and beaten until he collapsed unconscious. That night, after suffering in silence for hours, his frail body gave out. And his soul finally slipped away.
"…I hope you're resting peacefully now."
Ryan closed his eyes, took a breath, then opened them again. His gaze had changed—no longer soft, but sharp and cold.
"And that man… that thing who called himself your father… As long as I live, I will make him pay."
After a while, Ryan shook off the heavy emotional fog from the boy's memories. He looked down at the sack wrapped around him, then slowly pushed himself free.
"Star Hidden Village? So… I really did end up in the Naruto world…"
His surroundings were bleak—barren rocks, lifeless hills. Ryan let out a bitter smile. There was no time to be excited about crossing into a familiar world. Right now, he had to face a much more pressing concern—
Survival.
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T/N:
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