Uchiha Duan is a time traveler.
It's a bit embarrassing to say.
In his previous life, he was an avid fitness enthusiast and a "great god" figure in the training world. Yet, ironically, he died of sudden heart failure during an extreme high-intensity workout.
When death came, he didn't feel regret — just a deep unwillingness and sorrow:
The limits of human capability are ultimately insurmountable.
Who would've thought?
After death, Duan actually transmigrated into the Naruto world, reborn as a member of the Uchiha clan — the younger brother of Uchiha Mikoto.
He knew this world. Even as a child, he understood:
He'd eventually have a brother-in-law named Fugaku, the Uchiha patriarch, and two genius nephews: Itachi and Sasuke.
The Uchiha were the most powerful and prestigious clan in Konoha Village.
Fugaku's household stood at the clan's core.
Yet despite knowing all that, Duan felt no emotional ripple about his new identity.
What truly thrilled him — down to the depths of his soul — was something else:
In this world, humans possess over 130 trillion cells — nearly three times that of his Earth counterpart — and could extract chakra from their cells through training to evolve into beings far beyond natural limits.
The powerful could fly through the skies, vanish into the earth, move mountains, and split oceans.
No limits.
Duan firmly believed that some divine Muscle God had given him a second life.
So, he didn't hesitate.
He set forth on the path of physical cultivation from the moment he gained awareness in this new world.
---
It's worth mentioning:
Duan had zero interest in becoming a Konoha ninja, despite his pursuit of strength.
Why?
Because he understood clearly:
Konoha Village was essentially a military state that trained children — as young as five or six — to become living weapons, only to send them into warzones.
"The Will of Fire?" Please.
Duan felt no attachment to the village. There was no way he'd ever lay down his life for this kind of system.
So he made his choice at age six.
Relying on the powerful body he had honed from infancy, Duan found a clever excuse, then pummeled his Chūnin instructor to the ground in front of the entire academy.
The result:
His ninja license was revoked. He was disqualified from becoming a shinobi — but more importantly, he successfully escaped the fate of being a war dog.
From then on, he immersed himself in solitary training, living quietly outside clan politics, untouched by the chaos of the shinobi world.
Years passed.
And finally, at age 24, something unexpected happened.
---
Half a month ago, after an intense training day that pushed his body beyond its previous peak…
He awakened a Stand.
After 24 years in this world, his long-overdue cheat had finally arrived.
---
Now, turning off the shower, he dried himself with a towel.
As he shifted his body, Duan caught a glimpse of his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
On his left shoulder, just beneath the collarbone — a faint purple five-pointed star birthmark.
He'd had it since childhood, but had always dismissed it as just a quirk of genetics.
That is, until he awakened his Stand: The World.
That birthmark?
It was the ancestral crest of the Joestar bloodline from the JoJo's Bizarre Adventure series.
And now, it marked him too.
The World is the Stand awakened after the villain DIO forcibly seized the body of Jonathan Joestar.
Turns out—
The God of Muscle had long left him a revelation.
Bang.
Duan pushed open the bathroom door, changed into a large black kimono, and went straight into the kitchen.
Opening the refrigerator, he found the ingredients running low.
He added some fast carbohydrates and vegetables, ate another 20 egg whites, and finished with a bottle of chicken breast juice.
"Excuse me, curator, I'll go shopping right away."
Samui walked in, bowed slightly to Duan, and apologized.
In addition to working the front desk, she was something of a half-nanny—handling laundry, cleaning, groceries, and cooking.
But Duan's appetite was enormous. Sometimes, Samui found the refrigerator empty again just hours after stocking it.
"I'll go with you. I was planning to pick up some extra beef today," Duan said.
So—
The two locked the door of the gym and headed out of the alley together, making their way to the market.
…
Uchiha Itachi walked through the streets of Konoha Village, face pale.
He could feel the stares of countless passers-by. In their eyes were curiosity, disgust, and fear.
All because of the Uchiha crest on his back.
Ever since the Nine-Tails Attack a few years ago, villagers had grown increasingly hostile toward the Uchiha clan.
The clan itself had been forcibly relocated to the edge of the village, isolated by Konoha's high command.
Usually, Itachi's thoughts were occupied by the rift between the clan and the village. But today, something else troubled him:
His uncle—Uchiha Duan.
Without realizing it, he arrived home.
"Onii-chan!"
Sasuke, playing in the courtyard, rushed toward him with short legs and threw himself into Itachi's arms.
"Hiss." Itachi hissed slightly, feeling pain shoot through his lower abdomen.
"Brother, what's wrong?" Sasuke looked up, puzzled.
"I'm fine, Sasuke."
Itachi forced a smile and patted his brother's head, leading him inside.
In the dining room—
Mikoto Uchiha, wearing a beige apron, her long black hair draped over her shoulder, was busy setting the table with home-cooked dishes.
"Itachi, welcome back," she greeted warmly. "Where's your uncle?"
"Sorry, Mother… Uncle had something to do, so he can't come tonight."
Itachi hesitated, deciding not to tell her the truth. If she found out her cooking wasn't to someone's taste, she'd be heartbroken.
"If he's not coming, then let's not wait."
A deep, magnetic voice came from the hallway. Uchiha Fugaku stepped out from the study and signaled for dinner to begin.
So—
The four of them sat at the table.
Silence.
"Don't speak while eating, don't speak while sleeping." A family rule.
Itachi chewed slowly, eyes drifting to each of his family members.
A dignified father. A gentle mother. A cute little brother. An enviable, peaceful family.
If only…
The only flaw in this picture was their strange, muscle-obsessed uncle.
Thinking of Uchiha Duan made Itachi lose his appetite.
"I'm full."
He set down his chopsticks and bowed slightly. "Father, Mother, I'm tired. I'll rest in my room."
Under his parents' surprised eyes, he excused himself.
"Was the food not good today?" Mikoto muttered, thinking she'd displeased her son. But she glanced at Sasuke—who was eating happily like a piglet.
Fugaku also frowned. Itachi's behavior was clearly off.
Could it be the pressure from joining the Anbu?
He made a mental note to have a proper talk with his son soon.
Squeak.
Itachi quietly closed his door.
Taking off his shirt, he looked down—revealing a dark bruise on his abdomen. Clearly the result of a solid punch, and it still radiated heat.
He applied medicine, then laid down, closing his eyes slowly.
Itachi's mind replayed the moment he lost to Duan.
He couldn't understand how it happened.
Turns out—
He knew nothing about his uncle.
Maybe… he should ask Shisui.
…
"I want that cow."
Uchiha Duan pointed at a massive yellow cattle, easily over 500 kilograms, and told the stall owner, "Same as usual—send the meat to the gym after you slaughter it."
"Yes, yes, of course!"
The vendor smiled eagerly.
Other people bought beef by weight. Duan bought it by the entire cow. Three to five cows per month. A prized customer.
Other customers whispered behind Duan's back:
"No wonder he's so jacked. He probably eats beef every day."
"His body is terrifying. Just standing next to him makes it hard to breathe."
"But the woman beside him is gorgeous. Blonde, big-chested… like a young Lady Tsunade."
…
Samui shook her head faintly.
If only these people knew… The curator ate over a dozen meals a day, and visited the bathroom every hour.
Nearby—
She and Duan left the market, bags in hand. In addition to the beef, they'd bought vegetables, dairy, and eggs, filling several large sacks.
"Hoo~"
Samui exhaled, rolling her shoulders. They ached.
Not just from the bags.
Her chest had been growing rapidly. At 19, her bust had become so exaggerated, loose clothing couldn't even hide it.
Walking through town lately, she constantly felt unwanted stares.
Fortunately, walking next to this "monster" of a man kept other men at bay.
Why must I carry this burden?
She lowered her head. Couldn't even see her toes. Sighed.
"Give it to me."
Duan noticed the sweat on her brow and wordlessly took one of the bags, lightening her load.
"Thank you, curator."
She blushed slightly, speaking softly. Her shy expression was irresistible—any ordinary man would melt.
It looked like she had a crush on Duan.
But truthfully—
She was a spy.
To mask her identity, she pretended to be infatuated with Duan, hoping to lull him into vulnerability.
But Duan never took the bait.
Not once.
Which left Samui feeling strangely defeated. She even doubted her own charm.
Until she realized—
The problem wasn't her.
It was Duan.
This man was all muscles—and zero interest in women.