(Robbery, give me your brains!)
"Hey, Uncle Owner! Why are you still sleeping?!"
Sleeping in? Of course I'm sleeping in! If you hadn't been scribbling on the Hokage Rock a few days ago, would I have stayed up chasing you around until midnight? Do you know how much effort it takes to recover from an all-nighter? Sleep is sacred! Without it, how's a man supposed to survive the day?
Kazane Arata rolled over, dragged the blanket over his head, and ignored the loudmouth kid outside his door.
When shouting didn't work, the brat switched to pounding the door, rattling it like a woodpecker on crack. Today was clearly a big day for him. Normally he could be late, but not this time.
"Uncle Owner! Today I officially become a ninja! You have to come watch—"
"…What?"
Arata only heard buzzing in his ears. The rest of the kid's words blurred into white noise. By the time silence returned, he was already back in dreamland.
"Mmm~"
Arata stretched, letting out a groan that sounded… questionable. "Ah, nothing beats waking up naturally without an alarm clock."
After a wash, a yawn, and a very unglamorous session of toxin expulsion on the toilet, he shuffled downstairs to start his "business."
Arata ran a convenience store. On the surface, it sold ordinary goods. The catch? The store happened to be in Konoha Village. His only employee? A scruffy blond kid with whisker marks—Uzumaki Naruto.
Yeah. That Naruto.
Arata, being half an anime nerd, had obviously heard of the series Naruto. (Or as the meme-lords online sometimes call it, "Black Zetsu Saves His Mom.") But he'd never actually watched it. He was more of an anime-binger than a manga-reader, and unless a series was fully aired or finished, he couldn't be bothered. He'd heard of Naruto's legendary run, sure, but he kept putting it off. Saving it for later. And later. And later.
Until one day, browsing his favorite anime forum, he noticed everyone losing their minds over "non-combustible trash." Confused, he clicked the thread. Turns out they were raging about Boruto.
At first, he thought: Relax, it's just the new generation thing. Old MCs step down, new MCs rise up. It's the classic shōnen cycle. What's the big deal?
But the sheer meltdown from netizens hinted there was more to Naruto's legacy than he'd realized. Curious, he finally resolved: Fine, I'll watch it. See what all the fuss is about.
Except… before he could hit play, he woke up here.
In a place where everyone spoke Japanese—yet somehow, he understood.
And the kicker? He wasn't just in Konoha. He owned a two-story convenience store smack in the middle of the village. A hundred square meters: shop on the ground floor, housing upstairs. Pretty standard… except for one minor, tiny problem.
He couldn't leave.
An invisible barrier trapped him within a meter of the door. Jumping out the window? Didn't work—he'd respawn back inside. Yelling for help? No one could see or hear him. His store was a bubble, sealed off from the world outside.
So, he explored. Upstairs had neatly labeled rooms: Owner's Bedroom, Employee's Bedroom, Bathroom, Utility. Full kitchen, comfy living room, even a giant 100-inch TV… except it was a useless prop. No power, no games, no internet. Just decoration.
The first floor had shelves of snacks, fridges full of drinks, and an oddly huge lounge area—forty square meters of sofa and table like it was meant for a party. And the snacks? All familiar brands from his world. Chips, instant noodles, cigarettes… all labeled in Chinese. Perfect for him, but utterly out of place in Konoha.
He tested the stock. No matter how much he ate, the shelves refilled the next day. At first, heaven. After a week of instant noodles, chips, and soda—pure hell. He'd rather starve than eat another damn pack of shrimp-flavored crackers.
And every time he sat at the door, slurping noodles, the smell of Ichiraku's fresh ramen wafted over, taunting him. That was when it finally hit him.
This wasn't just any random anime world.
This was Naruto.
And Kazane Arata, the laziest man alive, was stuck here as Konoha's most reluctant shopkeeper.