Chapter 200: The Reckless Fool
The mechanical voice of the system chimed in her mind, catching the distinct edge of irritation in Stelle's silence.
[Host, please calm down. Although the persona is strange, according to the system's algorithm, this is the optimal choice. You are too strong and always ahead of others; in fact, that doesn't help much in farming mood values.]
[If you are beautiful and strong but exceptionally miserable in other aspects, it will actually touch people's hearts more. Everyone will feel sorry for you. Why don't we just make do for now? If it really doesn't work, we can change it later.]
Optimal choice, her foot. This was just a blatant excuse to force her into playing the ultimate victim.
Stelle kept her mouth shut. Instead, she leaned down, gripping the frail arms of the woman slumped on the dirt floor. She hoisted her up, gently dusting the thick layer of grime off her tattered clothes. Guiding the vacant-eyed woman into a rickety wooden chair, Stelle pressed a worn cloth doll into her hands to give her fingers something to fidget with.
The system was not ready to drop the subject.
[Don't forget that in this generation of Konoha, there are two super-smart guys, Orochimaru and Minato Namikaze. With this poor little thing persona and a weaker personality, they will definitely never associate you with the powerful, arrogant, and prideful Fourth Hokage. This is the safest way.]
Stelle tapped a finger against her own cheek.
[Do you think my original face looks like a poor little thing?]
The system lagged for a split second, its processing humming quietly.
[Do you want the truth?]
[Speak!]
[The truth is, Host, your original face is super soft, cute, and beautiful. At first glance, you look like the soft and sweet type that is easy to bully. However, your aura is too powerful and your gaze is too sharp. If you completely restrain them, you would be a perfect fit for the Beautiful, Strong, and Tragic trope.]
[Host, just try it. What if it works well? You don't want to have your identity exposed a second time, do you? Even if it's just an alias, you're afraid it will affect your plan.]
Stelle exhaled a long, slow breath. Her shoulders dropped a fraction. Although she possessed an endless supply of aliases, and no matter how many layers were peeled away she always had another mask waiting beneath, the stupid machine actually had a valid point.
That night, within the drafty confines of the dilapidated house, Stelle cleared out a small space in the storage room to serve as her bedroom, sweeping away years of accumulated cobwebs.
She took the last meager handful of edible rice from the kitchen and boiled it down into a thin, watery porridge, splitting the meager meal with the woman named Kikushi.
Afterward, she hauled water from the well and boiled a large pot to scrub the woman clean. The hot water and coarse soap worked wonders. At the very least, Kikushi no longer looked like a feral creature that had spent the last month rolling through muddy ditches.
When morning broke, Stelle scavenged a rusty kitchen knife from the cupboards, grabbed a woven bamboo basket, and headed up the mountain to forage for wild vegetables.
She had planned the layout of this very village herself, and time had not altered its bones. Stelle handled the winding streets with the ease of breathing. Before heading to the tree line, she took a deliberate detour through the central district.
The commercial heart of Konoha was as prosperous as ever. The scent of roasting meats and sweet syrups drifted from the food street, mingling with the sharp tang of hot iron from the weapon shops and the dry scent of paper from the bookstores. The morning crowds were already thick around the most popular storefronts.
A squad from the Military Police Force marched past her on their routine patrol. Two Uchiha, one Hyuga, and one civilian ninja. It was the standard configuration she remembered, designed specifically to handle disputes across all social strata of the village without bias.
She paused across the street from a familiar two-story building. She had lived there for many years in a past life, and from the outside, not a single wooden panel or window frame looked different.
"Kurenai, the dango shop released a new rainbow-colored dango today. They say it's a limited edition. Let's go try it together."
A cute little girl with dark hair and a gentle, yet somewhat distant air walked down the street. Trotting right beside her was a boy in a loose white short-sleeved shirt, his chin tilted up with an unmistakable air of childhood arrogance.
"No thanks, I have to cultivate later!" Kurenai replied, not breaking her stride.
"We can buy the dango and then cultivate together. I've learned a super powerful jutsu recently! I'll practice it for you then."
The boy chattered away, completely unfazed by the rejection, practically vibrating with the desperate need to show off in front of the girl he liked.
Stelle stopped in her tracks, a dry smirk tugging at her lips. Were these really the young Asuma Sarutobi and Kurenai Yuhi?
Asuma was a smooth operator. At barely six years old, he had already locked onto his target and was launching a relentless, head-on offensive toward his future wife.
He was leaps and bounds more capable than his older brother. When his brother was this age, the idiot could only sit in the classroom with a blank stare, scratching his head until his scalp bled while staring at the exam papers she had assigned him.
After wandering through the commercial district a bit longer, Stelle drifted toward the usual hangouts favored by the village's academy students.
In the open plaza, she spotted a young Genma Shiranui already chewing on his trademark senbon, standing near a fiercely scowling Ibiki Morino.
Over at the public training grounds, a bowl-cut kid who could only be Might Guy was doing laps around the perimeter entirely on his hands, his face red with exertion.
She took a cheerful lap around the area, soaking in the sights.
[System, I have finally made it to this era. This is simply paradise. I can see famous people just by taking a few steps.]
[Keep it up, Host. Establish your persona well. After school starts, try your best to become friends with them.]
[Can you not pour cold water on me when I am happy?]
Stelle adjusted the strap of her basket and walked toward the dense woods on the east side of the village.
Truthfully, digging for wild vegetables was a completely new experience for her. However, as a seasoned ninja, wilderness survival and botany were ingrained into her very instincts. Picking out edible greens from a sea of toxic weeds was child's play.
She wandered through the underbrush for a while, her basket slowly filling with fresh greens. She was just mentally calculating how to stretch these limited ingredients into a nutritious meal for Kikushi when a faint, high-pitched cry drifted through the trees.
The voice was intermittent, gasping for air every two seconds.
It was the distinct, cracking pitch of a young boy.
If it were an ordinary civilian or even a low-ranking Genin, the sound would have been completely swallowed by the rustling leaves. Stelle only caught it because her baseline senses were monstrously sharp. Otherwise, she would have walked right past it.
She pivoted, tracking the sound toward the deeper edge of the forest, right up to the boundary line of an exclusive Jonin training ground.
Peering through the gaps in the high, heavy-gauge wire fence, Stelle immediately spotted a boy sinking into a pit of thick, bubbling mud.
He had a stubborn, spiky mop of dark hair and wore bright orange goggles strapped securely over his eyes. The mud was already up to his chest, and his frantic struggles had clearly exhausted him. He looked entirely listless, his breathing shallow.
Yet, one of his hands was held high above the muck, carefully cradling his palm. Resting inside was a tiny, shivering fledgling bird with underdeveloped wings. The poor creature was splattered with mud, just like its savior.
It was painfully obvious what had happened. The idiot had waded into a lethal trap just to fish a fallen baby bird out of the muck.
Good heavens, was this really Uchiha Obito?
Stelle felt a headache building behind her eyes as she gained a brand new appreciation for the sheer, unadulterated recklessness of this boy.
The last person she knew who was this aggressively suicidal was Jiraiya, the fool who had dared to use the Reverse Summoning Jutsu to drag her—while she was fully encased in her Susanoo—straight to Mount Myoboku.
This was a restricted Jonin training ground. An artificial swamp created by Earth Release was the absolute least of the dangers here. The surrounding soil was undoubtedly laced with untriggered explosive tags.
In the canopy above, she could already spot the glint of tripwires connected to massive kunai and shuriken arrays designed for indiscriminate, omnidirectional attacks. These zones were specifically engineered to push a Jonin's reaction speed to the absolute limit.
She didn't know which Jonin had slacked off and left their jutsu active halfway through training, but they had clearly cordoned off the area with the wire fence and hung a bright red sign reading 'In Use' right on the gate.
Any sane ninja would see the sign and consciously detour around the perimeter. However, Obito was not a Jonin, nor was he particularly sane. He had somehow squeezed through the wire fence, completely ignored the warning markers, and marched straight into the center of the death trap.
Honestly, it was a statistical miracle he had even made it to the swamp alive without turning himself into a bloody mist on the explosive tag arrays.
"This is bad, this is really bad. I don't know when a Jonin will come to the forest to train. If I sink any further, the mud is going to get into my nose."
Obito held the little bird up high, forcing his body to remain perfectly still. He was terrified that if he thrashed around, the suction would drag him under faster, or worse, he would accidentally crush the chirping fledgling in his hand.
"Don't be afraid, little bird. Just wait a bit longer and someone will come to save me. Then I will be able to take you out."
The young Uchiha was like a walking, talking ball of sunshine. Despite the mud creeping up his neck, his dark eyes sparkled with an optimistic, fiercely persistent light. He did not show a single ounce of despair.
His entire being radiated a restless, exuberant vitality that even the swamp could not smother.
After whispering a few more comforting words to the bird, he tilted his head back, took a deep breath, and screamed at the top of his lungs. "Help! Is anyone there? Someone save me!"
Stelle sighed, dropping her bamboo basket onto the grass. She walked right up to the wire fence, resting her hands on the metal links, and waved at the reckless boy.
"Don't move around. Wait a moment."
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