Chapter 1: Me, an Uchiha, and the System Wants Me to Revive the Senju?!
Konoha, Year 50.
Inside a mountain bandit's den in the Land of Fire, Uchiha Yujiro swung his blade, cutting down the last enemy before letting out a deep breath.
The Third Great Ninja War had ended not long ago.
There were still eight years before the Night of the Uchiha Massacre.
One year before the Nine-Tails' Rampage—the death of the Fourth Hokage, the Yellow Flash, Namikaze Minato.
And only seconds away from something far stranger:
5… 4… 3… 2… 1…
[The Senju Restoration System is now at your service.]
Yujiro blinked. "Wait, the hell did you just say?"
[The Senju Restoration System is now at your service.]
The system repeated itself, almost as if afraid he hadn't heard it the first time.
Yujiro rubbed his temples. "No, no, no. You've got it wrong. Look at my Sharingan. Look at this Uchiha fan crest on my back. Look at my chakra—pure fire attribute. I'll give you one more chance to fix your wording. Which family are you supposed to restore again?"
[Bloodline detected: Senju clan. Activating Senju Restoration System! Main objective, Stage One: Rise from the ashes—rebuild the Senju clan!]
"…You've gotta be kidding me," Yujiro muttered. "I'm an Uchiha! And you want me to rebuild the Senju? What kind of cosmic joke is this?"
The Senju were practically extinct—most had hidden their identities or vanished entirely. The only active Senju left was that drunkard, gambler, and notorious bad debtor: Lady Tsunade.
And this so-called "system" wanted him to bring the clan back? Impossible. He waited eighteen years for a cheat, only to get… this?
[Stage Rewards: Mangekyō Sharingan, Free Attribute Points, Yang Release Chakra]
Yujiro paused, lips twitching. "Well, if we put it like that… The Senju did contribute greatly to Konoha. And they were on good terms with us Uchiha. Carrying on a fallen clan's legacy is… the righteous thing to do."
Of course, it wasn't about the rewards. Definitely not. It was about principle.
Still, he couldn't help comparing himself with his peers. In a few years, Itachi would massacre the Uchiha clan despite the clan having three Mangekyō Sharingan users and an army of jōnin. Their "god-tier" hand turned into a tragedy of cosmic proportions.
Yujiro was a transmigrator, yes, but after his parents' deaths, it was the clan that raised him. They taught him ninjutsu, genjutsu, taijutsu, even strategy. They weren't especially kind, but they weren't cruel either. He owed them. If there was even a chance to save the clan, he'd try.
The problem was… how?
Right now, he was just a modest jōnin with a two-tomoe Sharingan, some decent Fire Release, and swordsmanship he'd picked up from Sakumo Hatake before the White Fang's death. Against monsters like Itachi or Obito, he was barely above cannon fodder.
To change the future… he needed power. Overwhelming power.
He smirked. "Maybe I'll talk to Lady Tsunade once I return to the village. Wonder if she's into younger guys…"
As he sighed, he noticed a hidden door in the bandit's den. Behind it was a grimy dungeon, filled with the stench of blood.
On the floor lay a boy, mangled and half-dead from torture. Yujiro's brows furrowed.
"Hey, kid. Can you move? You're safe now. The bandits are gone. Head home."
The boy's eyes lit up with desperate hope. "Saved… I'm saved? They're all dead? You—"
"No need for thanks. I—"
But before Yujiro could finish, the boy's expression twisted into fury.
"Why didn't you come sooner?! If you had, my parents wouldn't have—"
The next second, Yujiro's kunai pierced the boy's throat.
"Damn bandits," Yujiro spat, watching the corpse dissolve into smoke. "Even disguising themselves as humans to trick me. Disgusting."
He burned the remains with a Great Fireball to erase all traces, then sheathed his blade and left the hideout.
Just another C-rank mission, worth a handful of ryo—barely enough to cover his meals. Even looting the place hadn't turned up anything valuable.
But his mind was elsewhere.
He had a system. He had a chance.
And whether he liked it or not, the path forward meant restoring the Senju.
Originally, Yujiro could eat for himself and his whole family wouldn't go hungry. Not anymore. Now he had to work his ass off—for Tsunade, and for her hypothetical one million wives.
"Making money needs to be a top priority," he muttered. "And finding lost relatives… ugh, so much trouble. Maybe I should talk to the clan chief: change the fan emblem into some abstract tree-branch, rename 'Uchiha of Love' to 'Senju of the Forest'—round the math a bit and call it a successful restoration, hah."
He only thought the joke. He wouldn't actually propose it—otherwise he'd be mobbed by the elders and beat to death long before the Night of the Massacre arrived.
"So… what's the plan?" Yujiro asked himself.
Yujiro wasn't dumb. Before transmigrating he'd read and analyzed countless fanfics and came away with a few feasible routes to shake up the ninja world. But theory is easy—being inside the game is different. When you're the one living in the mess, entrenched interests and tangled relationships make real change difficult.
Most importantly: even if your plan is right, why should anyone follow you? Why should people accept your strategy and put their lives on the line for it?
Yujiro admitted he didn't have Naruto's gift of gab, nor Yahiko-style charisma to inspire masses.
Which meant—
Power.
The key to solving everything, as usual, was power.
Could he, by just smiling like a prototypical Uchiha, push his Sharingan to three tomoe? He thought about it—and knew the answer was no.
He'd worked hard—no one could call him lazy. In the clan he'd been the notorious training maniac. But talent is talent: some things you can't outwork.
The Sharingan the Uchiha prized—his stalled at two tomoe. His Fire Release was decent but limited by chakra reserves. In short: not game-breaking.
But Yujiro was flexible. If ninjutsu and genjutsu weren't his strongest suits, he could compensate with taijutsu.
The Uchiha lacked a legendary taijutsu master? Fine—ask someone who knows taijutsu. The Hyūga won't teach Uchiha? So what—ask lesser shinobi, even outsiders or civilians.
Would it hurt the clan's face? Face doesn't matter if you're dead.
So that's how the one called White Fang of Konoha, Hatake Sakumo, ended up taking an Uchiha pupil. And the Uchiha acquired a blade master known across the village as the Flame-Claw.
Every drop of sweat Yujiro shed counted.
Have you seen Konoha at four in the morning? Yujiro had—more than once.
After eighteen years of Rock Lee–level grind, it was time to taste a little OP feeling.
He sighed, then checked the system's available tasks.
[Sub-Task Stage One: +1 clan member — Reward: Eye Power Increase]
The "added clan member" was Yujiro himself. The system's logic was simple to the point of adorable—if it helped him, he'd take it.
[Sub-Task Stage One — Completed. Reward issued.]
The instant he hit submit, his vision flooded with strength—surging, explosive, uncontrollable.
With the influx of ocular power, his Sharingan flared a crimson light and began to whirl. From two tomoe it upgraded—reinforced into three.
Yujiro felt the overwhelming power course through him and grinned, hand flying to his eye as he could no longer contain a true, standard Uchiha laugh:
"Ha—ha—ha—hahahahah—kekeke—"
He felt lightheaded—ecstatic.
He jumped up in a burst of childish glee, as if dancing on air.
For a moment the whole world felt different.