IGNORE (WORD COUNTS) - Naruto: The Only Player, Ruining The Shinobi World

Konoha, Spring.

The spring rain soaked the tender sprouts in the cracks of the stone slabs. The wind chime at the eaves was muted by the drizzle, and the Uchiha Clan's compound was quiet and heavy, like cotton soaked with water, pressing down until it was hard to breathe.

Konoha, Spring.

The Uchiha Clan's fan emblem on the main house's entrance was damp with moisture. The setting sun cut diagonally through the crack of the door, casting a few dark red lights on the floor, like bloodstains not yet dry.

By the low table in the living room, three children sat together… one older and two younger.

In the middle, Makoto's gaze first swept over the filial son on his left, the Clan-Slayer Itachi. The faint smile on the other party's lips, in Makoto's eyes, was like ice chips at the bottom of a cold pond, exuding a bone-chilling horror.

Then he looked to his right, at the proud and tsundere Legendary Stress King of the Uchiha… Uchiha Sasuke.

The two-and-a-half-year-old Sasuke noticed Makoto staring at him and retorted in a childish voice, "What are you looking at me for?"

Makoto didn't answer directly. Instead, he pulled out a bag of sunflower seeds and handed it over: "I bought these sunflower seeds especially for you. Go ahead."

He was thinking… use the sunflower seeds to shut Sasuke up, so he wouldn't interrupt the serious business to follow.

Sasuke snorted lightly, his small nose wrinkling, but his little hand quickly took the bag, and his mouth immediately started clicking away at the seeds, his extremely tsundere demeanor tinged with a childish simplicity.

Looking at the carefree Sasuke before him, Makoto couldn't help but sigh inwardly, thinking to himself, 'Sasuke before the clan massacre was like a clingy, tsundere kitten, completely different from the person he became after the massacre night.'

He was a transmigrator, not a soul transmigration, but born into this world from the start.

Before the age of two and a half, his memories of his previous life were like a jammed videotape, blurry and unclear. It wasn't until a day ago that those memory fragments pieced themselves together completely. After sorting out his situation, he just wanted to say, 'New account, don't mess with me...'

He was Uchiha Itachi's younger brother, Sasuke's twin brother. The three of them had lived together since childhood.

Having watched Naruto countless times, he knew full well that being brothers with the filial son, Clan-Slayer Itachi, was purely like using an explosive tag as a heating pad.

At worst, an early death, and at best, tortured until you're the only one left in the clan, becoming a Konoha's orphan.

Thinking of this, Makoto's gaze fell on Itachi's hands.

Itachi was lowering his head, shelling sunflower seeds for his two younger brothers. His fingertips pinched the shells, his movements occasionally pausing, as if burdened by heavy thoughts.

The setting sun slid down his hair, his profile as gentle as a painting. But in Makoto's eyes, this gentleness was a knife wrapped in cotton, the blade plated with a bloody glow, especially piercing.

For every two sunflower seeds Itachi shelled, he placed one in front of Makoto and pushed one in front of Sasuke, exuding the aura of a doting older brother, keeping the balance at perfect level.

The pile of white sunflower seed kernels on the plate gleamed with a cold light under the sunset, eerily similar to the brains that would soon be splattered on the ground during the clan massacre night.

'An absolutely hellish start. It seemed even breathing was wrapped in a thick, bloody smell.'

After struggling for a moment, Makoto clenched his fists and decided to ask Itachi to 'tell his fortune'… to sound him out, to see just how extreme he had become now.

Asking a future murderer to tell his fortune... the accuracy rate should be quite high. Once he knew the result, he could better plan for the future. Waiting for death wasn't his style.

Although this move was a bit ridiculous, abstract, it wasn't a big problem. Because in the first two and a half years, memories from his previous life had popped up from time to time.

Since infancy, he had often done things that were relatively abstract, even absurd.

In another place, he might have been mistaken for a freak, but in the Uchiha Clan, the clansmen all said he had the bearing of a strong individual.

As everyone knew, the more abstract an Uchiha was, the stronger they were, and the stronger they were, the more abstract they became. Compared to the Legendary Stress King Sasuke, some of his previous actions were especially like those of a pure-blooded Uchiha.

Moreover, Itachi, being a doting older brother, would pose no danger just for asking him to tell his fortune. After all, they had lived together for a solid two and a half years.

Thinking of this, Makoto pushed the pile of sunflower seed kernels on his plate to the side, put on a stern face and said, "Itachi, I need to ask you something. Answer seriously, don't lie."

Itachi's hands, shelling the seeds, paused. He looked up at him, his black eyes reflecting the bloody sunset. He didn't speak, only nodded slightly.

Sasuke, who had been stuffing sunflower seed kernels into Makoto's plate, stopped his chubby little hands abruptly as the atmosphere changed.

His small eyebrows furrowed into a knot, his little face puffed up like a bun, trying hard to imitate an adult's stern expression.

Makoto's fingertips pressed against the edge of the low table as he asked, word by word, "Do you love your brothers, or do you love the village?"

The air froze with a 'crack'.

The gentleness on Itachi's face stiffened for an instant. The fingertips pinching the sunflower seed shell exerted a little more force, and the shell cracked open a fine seam. He never expected someone as young as Makoto to ask such a question.

But remembering Makoto's previous absurd actions and his current paranoid expression, he didn't overthink it.

This was the effect of reputation. Pure-blooded Uchiha were mostly a bit abnormal and extremely prone to fixating on things.

'Even Makoto has noticed the conflict between the village and the clan?' Itachi sighed inwardly.

"Answer me!" Makoto's voice was tense, his fingertips pressing harder.

Itachi lowered his eyes, his long eyelashes casting shadows under his eyes. The sunflower seed shell in his fingertips completely shattered, the fragments falling onto his lap.

His silence was deafening. Even the sound of the fine rain hitting the window lattice was piercingly clear.

Only Sasuke kept rubbing his legs together, seeming a bit strange. He really needed to pee now... but the tense atmosphere made him embarrassed to interrupt. His little face was flushed red from holding it in.

After a moment of contemplation, Makoto continued to ask, "Then, if Sasuke and I both fell into the water, who would you save?"

"Makoto, you big idiot!" Sasuke suddenly yelled, his small, childish voice breaking through the heaviness. "Nii-san can use Shadow Clones! He can save us both!"

Hearing the wise guy Sasuke's answer, Makoto facepalmed internally, somewhat speechless. 'Well said. Go to the village entrance and collect two Bijudama.'

Ignoring Sasuke, he continued to stare at Itachi. "Answer me, Uchiha Itachi!!"

Sasuke, left out, couldn't quite grasp what the two were talking about. He tugged at Makoto's sleeve, advising in a milky voice, "Don't get excited..."

Makoto shook off his hand and glared with wide eyes. "Am I excited?"

Sasuke, puffing up his cheeks angrily, turned his head away, his little mouth pouted enough to hang an oil bottle, secretly vowing, 'I'm not to talk to Makoto today.'

Itachi, a few years older than Sasuke, seemed to understand what Makoto meant and began pondering the question. After a moment, he even furrowed his brows.

Finally, looking at Makoto's dim expression, he said in a low voice, "I don't know."

Hearing Itachi's response, Makoto's heart, which had been hanging in the air, felt like it had fallen into an ice cellar, completely chilled.

He twitched the corner of his mouth, letting out two light 'Heh heh' laughs. His throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton, the laughter dry and raspy.

He slowly stood up, his legs as heavy as if filled with lead. Stepping on the light spots on the floor that resembled drops of blood, he walked out step by step, mechanically.

Outside, the spring rain continued to fall drip by drip, showing no sign of stopping. The wind chime at the eaves swayed in the wind and rain, emitting a dull, monotonous light sound.

…

On his way back to his room, Makoto's mind raced wildly, searching for a way to break the situation.

Brainwashing Itachi was very difficult. The Uchiha Clan had always revered strength above all. Without strength, even if Itachi was a doting older brother, he wouldn't be easily brainwashed.

Moreover, entrusting his own fate to someone else was not his style.

Man must rely on himself!

In comparison, finding an opportunity to gouge out Itachi's eyeballs seemed more cost-effective.

Itachi sat by the low table, watching Makoto's retreating back. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but swallowed it back hard. His fingertips unconsciously rubbed the broken sunflower seed shells, his eyes filled with entanglement.

Seeing Makoto leave, Sasuke, like a puppy released from its leash, immediately scampered off to the bathroom. He had almost been suffocated just now.

Back in his room, Makoto was silent for a long time.

As his emotions surged, he suddenly clenched his fists, frantically stimulating his own emotions… attempting to awaken the Sharingan.

During this time, Sasuke peeked at him through the crack in the door several times. Seeing him lying motionless under the covers, he didn't disturb him. Itachi also came a few times, stood at the door watching for a while, then silently left.

Mikoto, having prepared dinner, saw that Makoto hadn't come out for a long time, so she placed a lunch box at the door and called out gently, "Makoto, it's time to eat."

Makoto grunted 'Mm' from under the covers but didn't get up. Seeing this, Mikoto gently closed the door and left.

The night was as dark as ink, thick and impenetrable. Time passed quickly.

Before long, the horizon began to turn fish-belly white. A whole night passed, and Makoto's eyes still showed no change... Drowsiness washed over him in waves, but he stubbornly resisted sleep.

Walking to the mirror, he looked at his bloodshot eyes and raised his hand to tidy his slightly disheveled hair, thinking to himself.

'I won't die this early.'

But the hand suspended in mid-air couldn't stop trembling slightly, like a leaf in the autumn wind.

Waiting for death wasn't his style. He began rummaging through the house, his target only one… the Chakra Refinement Technique.

At his current physical age, refining Chakra would place a great burden on his body. But if he didn't change the status quo, he might not even live long enough to experience poor health...

Coming to the Naruto World, he had dreamed of punching Uchiha Madara, kicking the Sage of Six Paths, and stabbing Otsutsuki Kaguya with his spear.

This entry-level technique shouldn't be hard to find in the house of Uchiha Clan's Clan Head.

But after searching the house for a good while, he surprisingly couldn't find it. He figured it had probably been put away by Mikoto.

Thinking of this, Makoto turned his gaze towards Itachi's room. The latter's room was highly likely to contain the Chakra Refinement Technique.

He walked straight to Itachi's room and pushed the door open with a 'creak'.

Itachi was staring out the window, the morning light outlining a large patch of darkness behind him.

Hearing the noise, Itachi turned his head. Just as he was about to say something, Makoto cut him off: "Itachi, Uchiha Izumi just came looking for you. She said to go find her."

He needed to trick Itachi into leaving so he could search properly. Otherwise, with Itachi's doting older brother nature, he would absolutely never allow him to refine Chakra this early.

Hearing Izumi's name, Itachi didn't even bat an eyelid, his tone extremely flat. "No time."

Hearing this, Makoto frowned and continued, "Uchiha Shisui came looking for you just now too. He said it's urgent."

With a 'whoosh', Itachi almost instantly sprang to his feet, his black eyes gleaming with a rare light as he urgently pressed, "Where is he waiting for me?"

His voice held a barely perceptible excitement and anticipation. Shisui, in Itachi's heart, was his most important close friend, someone who could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him and understand him mutually.

Whenever Shisui invited him, he never refused.

"He said the usual place," Makoto blurted out randomly.

Itachi had never doubted Makoto's words. In a flash, he directly jumped out of the window, the hem of his clothes drawing a sharp arc in the air.

Makoto watched Itachi's disappearing back, curled his lip, and thought to himself, 'In the Naruto World, a good bro is indeed the most important.'

Without time for too much reflection, he quickly began searching Itachi's room.

Finally, in a corner of the room, he found a special scroll… the Chakra Refinement Technique.

Makoto eagerly sat down on the floor, took a deep breath, and attempted to refine Chakra according to the method on the scroll.

He sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and concentrated, striving to perceive the physical energy hidden within the 130 trillion cells of his body, while simultaneously focusing his mind to gather mental energy.

At first, the two energies were like two quarreling children, incompatible as fire and water, refusing to b