Konoha, Year 59
In the shadows behind Ichiraku Ramen, Ruichi lay sprawled on a homemade rocking chair, radiating an unmistakable aura of "stay away—I'm lying flat."
In his previous life, he'd been a full-blown workaholic. By the age of thirty-five, he and his ashes had both ended up on the company's Wall of Honor.
After transmigrating into a high-risk world like Naruto, he'd long since come to terms with reality.
Struggle? Hard work?
What were those—could you eat them?
When he'd first arrived in this world, he'd been overflowing with ambition.
After all, as a transmigrator with memories of a past life, knowledge of future events, and the mindset of a modern adult, reaching the peak should've been easy—even without some cheat-like system, right?
Reality promptly slapped him across the face.
Leaving aside the brutal internal competition within ninja clans and the merciless policies of the Bloody Mist, simply staying alive was already a challenge.
After fleeing Kirigakure, he discovered that most regions of the world were either locked in endless warlord conflicts—like parts of Africa in his previous life—or trapped in something resembling Europe's Dark Ages, completely unfit for living.
Years of wandering crushed his spirit and forced him to accept a cruel truth:
In a world ruled by bloodlines, cheats, and overpowered parents, a transmigrator with no background and no hacks had very few viable paths.
Escaping to Konoha, the village with the best living conditions in the entire ninja world, securing a ninja position, and then peacefully lying flat—that was the best outcome he could imagine.
His current life was already better than that of ninety-nine percent of the people in the ninja world. It was even more comfortable than his previous life.
So what was there to complain about?
As his body and mind relaxed to the extreme, a mysterious energy flowed in from all directions, happily burrowing into his body and nourishing his limbs and bones.
Natural Energy.
This was something he'd only noticed over the past two years.
He didn't know why it happened, nor did he feel like investigating.
It didn't hurt, it didn't itch, and it made him feel great—so why bother?
"Brother Ruichi, stop sleeping! It's time to open the shop—get up and help!"
Wearing a forehead protector and dressed in a neat, practical outfit, Ayame stood with her hands on her hips, cheeks puffed out as she glared at him in annoyance.
From the back kitchen came Teuchi's cheerful voice.
"There's still time. Let him lie down a bit longer—he must be exhausted from the graduation exam today."
"Dad, you spoil him way too much!" Ayame stomped her foot.
Ruichi lazily opened one eye, glanced at the girl he'd grown up with since childhood, and curled his lips.
"Got it, got it. I'm coming."
He headed inside, changed into his work clothes, and briefly tidied himself up in front of the mirror.
White, medium-length hair. A handsome face that was—by his own assessment—about seventy percent as good-looking as the readers'.
Ruichi was extremely popular with young girls and married women alike. Together with Ayame, they were known as the twin signboards of Ichiraku Ramen.
"…My pupils look lighter again."
"Brother Ruichi! Are you done yet?!"
"Coming, coming~"
Stepping into the shop, Ruichi formed hand seals with both hands.
"Wind Release: Dust Absorption."
A small whirlwind appeared out of nowhere, sweeping dust from the corners and blasting it straight out the door.
"Water Release: Wash."
The faucet turned on by itself. Clear streams of water lifted the vegetables, rinsing them spotless in an instant.
Another stream splashed across the floor, washing away grime before gathering together like a snake and slipping neatly into the drain.
"Wind Release: Drying."
A warm breeze—mixed with a hint of Fire Release—swept across the floor, leaving it polished enough to reflect light.
"No matter how many times I see it, Brother Ruichi, you're incredible," Ayame muttered as she carried over a pot of bone broth, her expression a mix of admiration and helplessness.
"If only you had a bit more ambition…"
"That's exactly why I practiced this," Ruichi replied seriously.
"So I could be lazy."
He pretended not to hear her sigh.
The shop opened, customers came and went, and everything proceeded as usual.
…
Night fell, and the shop was still bustling.
"Ruichi."
A calm, cold male voice sounded out.
"Oh, Itachi. The usual?"
"Yes." Itachi Uchiha entered and took a seat. "Congratulations on graduating."
"Huh? Brother Ruichi graduated today?"
Nearby, Hinata Hyuga, quietly eating her ramen, blushed as she spoke up.
"C-Congratulations, Brother Ruichi."
"It feels strange," Ruichi said while deftly adding two thick slices of chashu to his own bowl,
"for a genius who graduated at seven and joined ANBU at eleven to congratulate someone like me, who barely scraped by on time."
"But thanks anyway—this one's on me."
He turned to Hinata and smiled.
"And you too, Hinata. Here, have some chashu."
He added meat to her bowl as well.
Itachi glanced at the chashu, his gaze softening slightly.
"Your talent goes far beyond this. If you wanted to—"
He stopped.
Itachi had never been able to see through this former classmate.
Ruichi's performance at the Ninja Academy had always been average—never outstanding, never poor.
Yet Itachi had personally witnessed the Wind Release Ruichi developed just to avoid cleaning, and the level of chakra control involved was something even he felt inferior to.
He couldn't understand why someone like that would be content hiding away in a ramen shop.
"Talent just brings trouble," Ruichi interrupted calmly, casually washing bowls with Water Release.
"I just want a peaceful life."
Itachi silently slurped his noodles.
A peaceful life…
What an extravagant phrase.
The conflict between the Uchiha Clan and the village was intensifying by the day, and he was caught in the middle, crushed beneath its weight.
Only here—inside Ruichi's small ramen shop—could he briefly set aside his masks and find a moment of rest.
"Be careful during the survival exercise," Itachi said before leaving.
"Though with your talent, it shouldn't be a problem."
"Passing doesn't depend on talent alone…"
Ruichi smiled faintly as he watched Itachi disappear into the night.
The night of the Uchiha Clan's massacre should be next year, right…
What a world—one where it's impossible to laugh.
He gazed at the retreating figure, sensing the storm brewing beneath that calm exterior.
"Brother Ruichi will definitely be fine!" Hinata said earnestly.
"Then I'll take your word for it." Ruichi chuckled.
"But Hinata, it's getting late. Shouldn't you head home? You'll get scolded if you're out too long."
"U-Um… y-yes!"
"Goodbye, Brother Ruichi!"
"Yeah. Take care on the way."
"She ate five bowls again today…" Ruichi muttered while cleaning up.
"That four-dimensional stomach is terrifying."
Just then, a drunk reeking of alcohol staggered into the shop and immediately locked onto Ayame.
"Hehe… little sister, how about having a drink with me?" he said, reaching out a greasy hand.
Ayame showed no fear at all.
"Don't be too rough, okay?"
The drunk's excitement skyrocketed.
"Hehe, I'll take real good care of you—"
"She's talking to me."
Ruichi, who'd been leaning lazily against the counter a moment ago, was suddenly behind the drunk.
Before the man could react, his neck was seized like it had been caught in an iron vise. His entire body was lifted effortlessly off the ground and dragged out of the shop like a dead dog.
A dull thud soon echoed from the alley, followed by desperate, muffled whimpering—like someone drowning.
"Since Ayame said not to be too rough," Ruichi said calmly,
"I'll be a little gentler this time."
He pressed a hand against the drunk's face.
A sphere of water formed instantly, completely enveloping the man's head. The water churned violently, reenacting every stage of drowning—suffocation, struggle, despair.
Waterboarding.
Simple. Efficient. Clean.
And devastating to the psyche.
Only when the drunk's body began twitching uncontrollably did Ruichi disperse the water and toss him aside like trash.
"Drink less in the future," Ruichi said coldly, crouching down.
"Not everyone is as easygoing as I am."
With that, he turned and walked back into the shop, as if he'd merely stepped outside to take out the trash.
"Next time, drag him farther away," Teuchi said while wiping a cup, not even looking up.
"Don't scare the customers."
Ruichi shrugged.
"Next time, for sure."