Chapter One: Sharik — I Will Take Revenge One Day
(Third-Person Perspective)
The halls of "Sharik Academy" had transformed into a theater of grief that choked the chest. The night was cold; the torchlights had dimmed, and the sky above the gate, instead of granting hope, seemed as harsh as shattered glass. There, on a stone pavement slick with cold blood, lay a boy no older than thirteen or fifteen. His small body flowed slowly across the ground, as if he had lost everything—bleeding from every joint, from his head, his hands, and his heart that throbbed with difficulty, as if the blood itself were reading the death sentence on his silence.
He shouted with a voice that cut through the night, a cry not merely of physical pain but of a soul devastated by betrayals: "I will have my revenge… I will take revenge on Sharik Academy… If I get the chance in this life, I will destroy you!" The words came out choked, broken like mercury on his lips, yet within each letter was a dark resolve. His tears were absent—there was no strength to form them; what was present was the ink of pain and refusal that splattered over everything around him.
Because of the "Tang Wutong Incident," as they claimed—or at least that's how he understood it—he was nothing more than an ordinary person from a distant world called the "Blue Star." He had arrived here carrying a treasure trove of knowledge about the future and a great hope charged with a childlike innocence without limits. In this world, life was entirely different; there were combat spirits of legendary caliber, powers beyond ordinary humans, and heroes born as myths. As for him, he possessed no combat spirit, no golden finger, no supernatural talent. All he had was a sincere desire to be more than just a janitor at the academy, to not be a fleeting shadow beneath the feet of the powerful.
On his first day, he built high expectations in his chest—youthful illusions often construct palaces on ashes. But he collided with a reality harsher than stone: he was neither a Spirit Master nor pure water, nor someone worth remembering. In this world, he owned nothing but his silent determination.
Yet, driven by a strange force he still could not explain, he decided to cling to the place, to leverage his knowledge of the future, and to work diligently—even if the path ahead seemed blocked.
He joined "Sharik" as a simple worker. He swept the halls, gathered the ashes of shattered dreams, and dusted off the shoes of the proud. Yet, he did not settle easily; being a traveler through time made him cling to goals far beyond ordinary people. Holding onto Tang Wutong's side became his silent aim—he wanted to get close, to hint at a thread of trust, to find a foothold for himself in a world that showed no mercy to the weak.
It was not easy. For nearly a month, he tread cautiously through a complicated relationship: drawing near to Tang Wutong, flattering, restraining, earning a tiny measure of her understanding. At the same time, he tried to gain the trust of He Yuhao, to make him feel he could be relied upon even in his weakest moments. Then, without warning, what seemed impossible—or perhaps inevitable from hardened hearts—happened: they attacked him under the pretext that he was disturbing them during training. The blows were more than mere physical force; they carried a clear message: "Your place here is beneath our feet."
Afterward, he was sent to "Mo An," where no one spared his body. Bones shattered under the strikes of Mo An's aura, and his dignity crumbled before eyes that knew no mercy. In the end, he was expelled from "Sharik" like a damaged being of no value; a seal of rejection was stamped onto his body, a mark that would not be erased easily.
And as he writhed on the academy's stone pavement, broken by pain, only a single trembling word escaped his lips: "I will not forget… I will never forget." It was not merely a threat; it was a dark vow, the birth of an unquenchable desire. In the darkness of that night, to the rhythm of blood dripping and soaking the stones, his heart accepted a solemn oath: if life would not give him a place, he would take it himself—even if the price was turning his own soul into an unrelenting ember.
And so, amid the remnants of shattered hope and the scent of iron and ash, childhood pain transformed into a dark promise. The academy had seen a body, had seen a wound, yet it did not realize that what it had planted in the boy's heart was a seed of revenge—one that would grow in silence, swelling with the flow of pain until it filled the sky above all its halls.
(First-Person Perspective)
I remember him in his original work… He Yuhao didn't even acknowledge his own son. Everything was a deception; not even the tamed beast was spared from his trickery.
Heh… what irony.
This is his true nature: a contradictory man, extravagant, cowardly, loving himself above all else. Everything he does may look beautiful on the outside, but inside, it's merely an echo of his selfish desires, nothing more.
Ha ha ha…
I finally managed to get away…
I crawled… crawled for more than ten kilometers.
My leg is broken, my spine shattered…
I am now a cripple… I can't even stand. All I can do is crawl…
I never imagined all this would happen to me over something so trivial…
At this moment, I remembered that I still had an envelope of a letter… I hadn't been able to open it all this time, futilely turning it over and over…
I finally took it out, closed my eyes, and began to open it…
And to my surprise… it opened.
The moment I opened my eyes, I found myself transported to a strange void…
In front of me hung a lottery wheel, with the words: You have only 4 attempts.
Without a second thought, I began to spin it…
After it turned, it stopped at the name of the Naruto world…
Suddenly, a box appeared before me…
Without hesitation, I opened it…
I had found it!
The Forbidden Seals Scroll!
And a card bearing the crest of the Senju clan and the Uchiha clan, inscribed with: Mangekyo Sharingan Tsukuyomi, Kotoamatsukami, Kamui, and Wood Release.
There was another card, the last one, with the name Itachi Uchiha written on it.
The moment I touched that card, it vanished… and I felt something refreshing coursing through my veins. Suddenly, it struck me… I had obtained a new bloodline!
Then I touched the other card, and an enormous flow of knowledge poured into my mind… all of Itachi Uchiha's skills and techniques were now at my disposal.
After that, I touched the Forbidden Seals Scroll once again… and countless techniques and skills streamed into my mind all at once…