Chapter 1 — I Don't Have Chakra?
Wind Country — Sunagakure — Sand Bathhouse
In the depths of the Wind Country, where scorching gusts howled endlessly across barren dunes, Sunagakure's famed Sand Bathhouse stood like a furnace carved into the desert itself.
The so-called Devil's Bath was notorious even among shinobi.
Most people retreated before they even reached the entrance. The air alone was suffocating—thick with dry heat and scalding steam. The sand inside, constantly churned and heated through special mechanisms, rolled like molten waves beneath the surface. To step into it without preparation was to invite burns and heatstroke.
Shasha… shasha…
The heavy sound of shifting sand echoed within the bath.
Something was moving beneath the surface.
A ripple surged forward like a shark cutting through water. Then another.
"He's doing it again…"
"Idiot. This isn't a swimming pool."
"I'm about to pass out just sitting here. Who's insane enough to swim at this temperature?"
"He's coming! He's actually swimming through the heat wave!"
Several Sunagakure jōnin stared wide-eyed from the edge of the bath. Even battle-hardened veterans rarely challenged the bath at its highest difficulty. Yet someone was cutting through the rolling sand as if it were a summer lake.
Only one among them remained relaxed.
Baki, an elite jōnin known for his iron discipline, leaned casually against the bath's edge. Her arms were crossed, his expression composed as he enjoyed the therapeutic burn of the sand against his back.
With a sharp burst of motion, a figure broke through the surface.
A black-haired boy emerged, sand cascading from his shoulders. His skin was tanned to a healthy wheat color, muscles lean but defined. His dark eyes were steady, unfazed by the heat that had forced grown shinobi into retreat.
He brushed sand from his hair and flashed a bright, easy smile.
"Yo, Baki-san. We meet again."
Baki studied him thoughtfully.
"Seiki… if I remember correctly, your first attempt at hell-level difficulty was only half a month ago."
Seiki nodded, still smiling, as though what he had just done were nothing more than a casual stroll.
"What?!" One of the jōnin nearly slipped back into the sand. "You adapted to this level in just half a month?!"
Another scoffed. "Don't tell me you used chakra to reinforce your body before entering."
Seiki tilted his head slightly.
"Well… if I had chakra, maybe I would've."
The surrounding shinobi exchanged looks.
"Whose crazy kid is this?"
"He's either fearless or brainless."
Seiki simply chuckled and said nothing more. He stepped out of the bath, dried off, and slipped into a light yukata before layering on a heavy windproof coat—necessary armor against the desert's biting nighttime cold.
He gave Baki a small wave and left without further explanation.
One of the jōnin leaned closer to her.
"I've never seen him before. Who is he?"
"Seiki?" Baki answered lazily. "He's been in the village nearly a year."
"Background check?"
Baki shook his head, scooping up a handful of heated sand and pressing it against his chest with a satisfied sigh.
"No need. I tested him personally."
The jōnin frowned. "And?"
"There's no chakra in his body."
Silence fell.
Then—
"A civilian?"
"Hah. For a second, I thought he might be a spy from Konoha."
"Why Konoha?"
The jōnin hesitated, then muttered, "That smile. For a moment… it felt like one of theirs."
They glanced at the endless sea of sand beyond the bathhouse walls. Sunagakure was a harsh village in a harsher land. People did not smile easily here.
Baki closed hi eyes.
It didn't matter where Seiki came from.
What mattered was that the boy had grit.
It was simply a shame… that someone with such determination had no chakra.
---
The temperature plummeted as night fell.
Outside the bathhouse, Seiki fastened his coat tightly and walked into the sparsely populated streets. Patrol routes had doubled in frequency lately. Shinobi moved like shadows across rooftops.
"Security's tightening again…"
He slipped beyond the village perimeter and disappeared into the dunes.
Moments later, he lay prone atop a sandy ridge, telescope in hand, calmly observing the patrol patterns of Sunagakure's outer defense lines. His breathing was steady. His body sank subtly into the sand, minimizing his silhouette against the moonlight.
Then—
Boing.
A toad landed beside him.
Seiki didn't flinch.
"Toad Hidden Technique?"
Before he finished speaking, the toad's mouth split open wider than natural. A hand reached out from within.
A tall man with spiky white hair crawled out, dusting himself off as if emerging from a cramped attic rather than a summoned creature.
"Jiraiya-sensei," Seiki said calmly. "Perfect timing."
"Oh? Seiki… long time no see."
It was none other than Jiraiya of the Legendary Sannin of Konoha.
For a brief moment, the wind howled between them.
"One year, exactly…"
Suddenly, five shuriken suddenly flashed toward him.
They came from all angles—high, low, left, right, center—cutting off every line of retreat.
Seiki's pupils sharpened.
His leg swept outward.
The sand at his feet surged up like a blade, forming a dense crescent that intercepted every incoming shuriken midair.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Metal scattered harmlessly across the dunes.
He didn't pause.
Switching seamlessly from defense to offense, Seiki lunged forward.
"Konoha Great Whirlwind!"
His lower kick swept toward Jiraiya's legs, followed by a fluid spin. His body rotated midair, momentum transferring upward as his heel snapped toward Jiraiya's temple.
"Your speed's improved," Jiraiya commented lightly.
He blocked with his left arm and counterpunched with his right.
But Seiki had already shifted.
"Not done yet… Steel Whirlwind!"
His waist twisted sharply. The previously retracted leg shot backward in a spinning kick aimed at Jiraiya's neck—
Crack!
Wood splintered.
"A substitution jutsu…"
Seiki pivoted instantly, his left leg snapping forward again—stopping a hair's breadth from the real Jiraiya's face, where the Sannin stood holding another shuriken.
They locked eyes.
"Not bad," Jiraiya admitted, lowering his weapon. "You've grown a lot this year."
He dropped onto the sand, sitting casually as though the ambush had been nothing more than a greeting ritual.
Seiki sighed. Being unexpectedly transported into the Naruto world, he knew Jiraiya had held back. His system was locked: without chakra to boost his vitality, without Eight Gates, relying solely raw muscle, refined technique, and relentless discipline. Without chakra, even taijutsu had a ceiling. No matter how far he pushed himself, he could only brush against the edge of second-tier shinobi.
Jiraiya studied him.
His thoughts drifted back five years.
---
"Jiraiya," Hiruzen Sarutobi had said quietly, "Seiki is my grandson."
For the first time, the Third Hokage bowed to his own disciple.
"I don't have the time to train him properly. Take him on a journey. Help him grow."
Jiraiya had been stunned. He had never seen his teacher bow like that.
He couldn't refuse.
But what he discovered afterward left him speechless.
Seiki—heir of the Sarutobi clan—had no chakra.
None.
In a world where even civilians possessed faint traces, the boy was a complete anomaly.
"No wonder you kept his birth a secret," Jiraiya had muttered. "During tensions with Kumogakure, a chakra-less heir would crush morale…"
He crouched before the timid nine-year-old boy.
"What can you do?"
Seiki spoke softly.
"Basic taijutsu. Disguise techniques. Surveillance. Assassination fundamentals. Shurikenjutsu."
Jiraiya blinked.
No ninjutsu or genjutsu. Just fundamentals.
He later suggested to Hiruzen, "If it's taijutsu you want, give him to Might Guy."
"I already did," Hiruzen replied bitterly. "He refused."
"Without chakra, even taijutsu won't go far."
Those words nearly cost Jiraiya his life.
Hiruzen had smashed a fist into the wall beside Jiraiya's head, cracks spiderwebbing outward.
His voice dropped to a chilling whisper.
"I didn't ask you to take him as a student. I asked you to find a path for him. I am his teacher. That makes him your junior. So tell me, Jiraiya… will you help?"
Jiraiya laughed nervously, sweat dripping down his neck.
"Haha! Of course! Junior or not, he's family! If we can't find a method for him… I won't return to the village!"
And so they left.
Five years passed.
The Third Great Ninja War erupted.
Seiki grew taller, stronger, sharper—but the problem remained.
There was no chakra.
To protect him, Hiruzen never recalled Jiraiya to the front lines. Instead, they operated in the shadows, gathering intelligence that could shift battlefields without direct confrontation.
Upon entering the Wind Country, Seiki suggested that Sunagakure's environment was ideal for taijutsu training and requested to operate alone.
Jiraiya secretly protected him for a month. Realizing Seiki's disguises were flawless, he allowed him to train independently.
Seiki's growth exceeded Jiraiya's expectations. Not only had he strengthened himself, but he seemed to have uncovered information critical enough to stop the war…
Jiraiya asked seriously, "Seiki, is your intel accurate?"
Seiki nodded firmly. "The Third Kazekage is confirmed dead. The culprit is Akasuna no Sasori!"
The war was about to change.