(A/N: Sorry for the delay—overtime drained me, but hey, I couldn't say no to some extra cash.)
Day 3 — 1st day of vacation,
I rolled out of bed with a groan, hair sticking out in every direction. After freshening up, I stepped into the small kitchen. Dust motes danced in the morning light filtering through the window.
Cooking again after so long felt… nostalgic. Back on Earth, I'd last touched a frying pan in college. After becoming a billionaire, I had chefs, assistants, and delivery apps at my command. The most I did was lift a fork.
"Let's see if I've forgotten everything."
The results? Let's just say it didn't poison me. The eggs were a little burnt, but edible.
After that, I strapped on my ninja pouch and headed out.
The streets of Konoha were vibrant—vendors shouting over the sizzle of food stalls, kids darting around laughing, the smell of grilled fish and ink from calligraphy shops mingling in the air. It was the same village I'd watched on screen all my life… yet so alive and warm now. No Nine-Tails scars, no war tension—just peace.
At Training Ground Three, a familiar figure waved.
"Morning, Ryo!" Minato called, all sunshine and confidence.
"Morning, Minato," I greeted back.
He smiled, "Want to train together?"
"Sure. I'll try not to embarrass myself too much."
Minato corrected my stance as I practiced kunai throws, each flick of his wrist graceful and precise.
"Don't muscle it," he said, tapping my elbow. "Flow with it."
"Easy for you to say," I grumbled, throwing again.
The kunai hit dead center.
He grinned. "See? You've got talent."
I clicked my tongue but couldn't hide a small smile.
By noon, I was landing almost every hit.
We parted ways after a quick spar—Minato's reflexes were insane—but he was generous with advice.
Afternoon brought my usual training circuit: push-ups, sit-ups, squats, a ten-kilometer run. Sweat drenched me, lungs burned, and then—click—Full Recovery kicked in. Every ache vanished. It still amazed me.
After a shower and dinner, I sat cross-legged and drew in chakra. Each cycle of extraction felt denser, smoother, more obedient. It was like breathing energy itself.
The next weeks fell into rhythm.
Mornings with Minato or classmates.
Afternoons with sweat, bruises, and training.
Evenings spent meditating until I could feel my chakra hum in rhythm with my heartbeat.
Mikoto often joined us; she was quiet but sharp, always analyzing every movement. Tsume was her polar opposite—loud, confident, sometimes dragging her ninken pup along. And Nawaki… Nawaki was pure chaos.
"Come on, Ryo! Loser buys lunch!" he'd shout during spars.
He lost. A lot.
Between laughs, bruises, and meals, I stopped feeling like the odd orphan. I was part of something—friends, a routine, a world that didn't reject me.
Then came the surprise.
While cleaning one lazy afternoon, I found a dusty wooden box buried in the closet. Inside were old coins, a few trinkets, and two scrolls tied neatly with faded red string.
I sat there for a long time, running my fingers over the worn parchment.
"Father… Mother…" I murmured. Although I haven't met my parents in this life, somewhere deep in my blood, I still longed for them.
The first scroll was Wind Release: Gale Palm (C-Rank)—a fast, flexible ninjutsu that boosted strikes and deflected attacks. The second was Mystical Palm Technique (A-Rank)—a fundamental medical ninjutsu that required near-perfect chakra control.
The moment I saw them, I knew—this was my inheritance.
Learning them, however, was hell.
The Gale Palm kept blowing dirt in my face for the first week.
"Okay, maybe a little less chakra next time—" BAM!
My own wind blast slammed me into a tree.
Mystical Palm was worse.
Trying to stabilize healing chakra was like threading a needle with shaking hands. One slip and it'd just fizzle out.
So I doubled down.
I climbed trees until I could sprint up them. I ran across water until I could dance on it.
I practiced cutting leaves with pure wind chakra—then thin stones, and finally, solid wood.
Slowly, painfully, my chakra control soared.
And one night, after weeks of trial and error, the green glow of Mystical Palm shimmered perfectly in my hands, warm and steady.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror—hands glowing like emerald flame—and couldn't help a grin.
"Turns out I'm a genius too."
July 31st — The Final Day of Vacation
My final workout ended with me drenched in sweat but smiling.
One last round of chakra extraction and a flick of the panel later
--------------------------
Ryo's Status Panel
Physique: 1259
Mind: 1259
Chakra: 46.6 Kakashi (young Kakashi, without Sharingan)
Taijutsu: 78 (Kunai/Shuriken: 82/100, Basic Combat: 74/100)
Ninjutsu: 100
• Wind Release: Gale Palm (C-Rank) – 100/100
• Mystical Palm Technique (A-Rank) – 100/100
• Three Body Technique (E-Rank) – 100/100
Nature Transformation: Fire: 1/100,
Water: 1/100, Earth: 1/100, Wind: 100/100, Lightning: 1/100, Yin: 1/100, Yang: 40/100)
Hand Seals: 4/sec
Classification: Jonin
---------------------------
I fell back on the bed, chest heaving, staring up at the ceiling. Two months ago, I was just a random guy dropped here by some cosmic troll. Now? A Jonin-level freak with no diploma, no mission record, and way too much free time.
Still, despite the numbers, training didn't feel easier. Every push-up still burned, every breath still hurt. Maybe effort never scaled with power. Maybe it wasn't supposed to.
I chuckled softly. "Vacation over, huh?"
Tomorrow was August 1st. Academy resumed.
Back to class—with friends, rivals, and a head full of secrets.
(A/N): Quite the boost, huh? Don't worry, this is only the warm-up arc! Just wait till the three-year time skip—our overpowered MC with his slightly suspicious moral compass is going to wreak glorious havoc. And yes, I can already hear you all saying "He's broken!"… but hey, you clicked on this story, didn't you?