The evening moon cast beautiful light across the village streets as Kenji emerged from the Hokage Tower, his mind already racing with the practicalities of his situation. The meeting with the Senju brothers had gone better than expected, but now he faced a more immediate concern—finding suitable accommodation before the deadly dawn arrived.
His demon physiology brought many advantages, but the absolute vulnerability to sunlight remained a constant threat hanging over his existence. Every sunrise was a potential death sentence, making proper shelter not just a comfort but a necessity for survival.
The commercial district bustled with activity as merchants closed their shops and residents hurried home for evening meals. Kenji approached a middle-aged shopkeeper who was securing his storefront.
"Excuse me," he called politely. "I'm new to the village and seeking lodging for the night. Could you recommend somewhere appropriate for a person of... particular requirements?"
The man looked him over, taking in his fine clothes and obvious wealth. "Well, sir, there's the Leaf Inn near the center of town. Clean rooms, good food, and they cater to traveling merchants and dignitaries. Should suit someone of your standing."
Kenji thanked him and made his way to the establishment, which proved to be exactly what he needed—a well-maintained building with solid construction and heavy curtains that would block out any unwanted morning light. He secured a room on the interior side of the building, far from any windows that might admit direct sunlight.
As he settled into his temporary quarters, the weight of his situation began to truly sink in. The money he possessed could solve many problems, but finding a permanent residence would require careful consideration. He couldn't simply wander the streets during daylight hours, examining properties like a normal buyer.
*I'll need to find someone who can act on my behalf,* he mused, *but this world seems to lack the concept of real estate brokers entirely.*
The thought of Takeshi brought a pang of regret. His loyal retainer would have handled all these arrangements with quiet efficiency, leaving Kenji free to focus on more important matters. Perhaps it had been a mistake to embark on this venture alone.
*No matter,* he decided. *I can send word to him tomorrow. For now, I have more pressing concerns.*
With the immediate issue of shelter resolved, Kenji finally allowed himself to access something he had been anticipating since his arrival in this world. Sitting cross-legged on the simple bed, he focused inward and activated his system interface.
**TEMPLATE SYSTEM ACTIVATED**
**Host: Kenji Nakamura**
**Template: Muzan Kibutsuchi (13%)**
**Twelve Kizuki: Locked**
**Primary Abilities:**
**1. Biological Manipulation – Can restructure body at will; create weapons, grow limbs, alter organs.**
**2. Cellular Regeneration – Instantly heals from wounds, even decapitation (unless hit by specific weaknesses).**
**Special Traits:**
**Immortality – Cannot age or die naturally.**
**Sunlight Weakness – Incinerated by direct sunlight.**
**Ultimate Technique:**
**"Perfect Demon Physiology" – Full release of body manipulation, enhancing all attributes and spawning countless whip-like appendages capable of shredding enemies instantly.**
Kenji studied the information with growing understanding. The template percentage had increased from his initial 10% to 13% during the journey—a modest improvement that he attributed to the nightly exercises he had performed in his wagon. However, he recalled that the most significant boost had come from eliminating those bandits who had attacked the caravan. A single night of violence had contributed more to his development than weeks of physical conditioning.
*Killing accelerates the template integration,* he realized. *But that option is limited now that I'm under observation in Konoha.*
The dilemma of increasing his power while maintaining his cover identity would require creative solutions. Exercise would have to suffice for now, though he suspected that learning to manipulate chakra might provide another avenue for advancement.
But therein lay his greatest challenge. At his apparent age, formal ninja training was virtually impossible. The concept of private tutoring seemed nonexistent in this militaristic society where combat techniques were closely guarded clan secrets or village resources.
*I need to find a way to learn,* he thought grimly. *But how does one approach such a request without appearing suspicious?*
Sleep, while no longer a biological necessity, provided a respite from these circular worries. When he awoke the next day, Kenji felt no more refreshed but was determined to make progress on his housing situation.
The following nights blended together in a frustrating routine. He would emerge after sunset, explore the village's residential areas, and attempt to locate suitable properties for purchase. The lack of any organized real estate system meant relying on word-of-mouth recommendations and chance encounters with property owners.
During the day, confined to his inn room to avoid the lethal sunlight, Kenji maintained his physical conditioning routine. He performed every modern exercise he could remember—push-ups, sit-ups, squats, and various stretching routines. The limited space was frustrating after the freedom of his wagon, but he persevered.
*Perhaps I could commission custom training equipment from a weapon smith,* he mused during one particularly tedious afternoon. *This world may lack gymnasiums, but the craftsmen are certainly capable of creating what I need.*
His appetite had diminished significantly since the transformation. Food, while still enjoyable, no longer felt like a necessity. He could go entire days consuming nothing but water and feel no ill effects—another advantage of his demonic physiology.
On the third day of this routine, Kenji composed a carefully worded letter to Takeshi, explaining his situation and requesting the man's assistance in Konoha. While he had initially planned this venture as a solo operation, practical concerns were overriding his pride.
It was during the fifth night of his residence at the inn that inspiration finally struck. He had been overthinking the situation, approaching it from the wrong angle entirely. Rather than searching for unconventional solutions, why not go directly to the source of power in the village?
*Hashirama Senju is known for his compassionate nature,* Kenji reasoned. *And I've already established myself as a potential investor in the village's development. Perhaps I can frame my request as a mutually beneficial arrangement.*
The more he considered this approach, the more sensible it seemed. He possessed substantial wealth that the growing village desperately needed. In exchange for development funds, requesting access to basic ninja training hardly seemed unreasonable.
The next evening, Kenji made his way to the Hokage Tower with renewed confidence. His identity was already well-established with the guards, who waved him through with respectful nods. The security measures, while extensive, seemed designed more to monitor than to obstruct his movements.
*Hashirama's overwhelming power makes most conventional security redundant,* he reflected as he climbed the familiar stairs. *Few threats could reach him that ordinary guards could handle.*
He knocked on the office door and received permission to enter, but immediately noticed an unexpected change in the room's occupants. While Hashirama sat behind his desk as usual, Tobirama was nowhere to be seen. Instead, standing near the window with his arms crossed, was a figure that made Kenji's pulse quicken despite his supernatural composure.
Madara Uchiha stood silhouetted against the evening light, his distinctive wild hair and imposing presence unmistakable. The legendary Uchiha's dark eyes fixed on Kenji with an intensity that seemed to pierce through all pretense.
Maintaining his carefully practiced demeanor, Kenji offered appropriate greetings to both men. Hashirama responded with his characteristic enthusiasm, rising from his chair with a welcoming smile.
"Lord Kibutsuchi! How good to see you again. I hope you're finding Konoha to your liking?"
Madara merely nodded acknowledgment, his expression unreadable but somehow radiating disapproval. The tension in the room was palpable, suggesting Kenji had interrupted something significant.
"Lord Hokage, Lord Madara," Kenji replied formally. "I apologize if I'm intruding on important village business. I can certainly return at a more convenient time."
"Nonsense," Hashirama waved away the concern, though Kenji noticed the slight strain in his voice. "Please, what can we do for you?"
Kenji had rehearsed this moment carefully, but Madara's unexpected presence required adjusting his approach. The Uchiha leader's reputation for directness suggested that elaborate politeness would be poorly received.
"Lord Hashirama," he began, "I've spent these past days exploring your remarkable village, and I find myself increasingly impressed by what you've accomplished here. However, I've also come to realize something about myself."
He paused, allowing appropriate emotion to enter his voice. "My brush with death has left me feeling... inadequate. Helpless. During my illness, I was completely dependent on others for my survival, and the experience has made me determined never to be so vulnerable again."
Hashirama's expression softened with understanding, but Madara's eyes narrowed with what might have been contempt.
"I would like to learn the ninja arts," Kenji continued. "Not to become a warrior, but to gain the knowledge and skills necessary to protect myself and those I care about."
The words hung in the air for a moment before Madara spoke for the first time since Kenji's arrival.
"You?" The Uchiha's voice dripped with disdain. "Someone who has lived like a pampered doll wants to become a ninja? Do you have any idea what that path entails?"
Kenji had expected skepticism, but the raw hostility in Madara's tone suggested deeper issues at play. The timing of this meeting, combined with the absence of Tobirama, hinted at ongoing political tensions within the village leadership.
*He's angry about something else entirely,* Kenji realized. *I'm just a convenient target for his frustration.*
Rather than backing down, Kenji met Madara's gaze steadily. "Lord Madara, I don't claim to understand the full extent of what I'm asking. But I believe determination and proper resources can overcome many obstacles."
"Am I interrupting something important?" he asked, turning to Hashirama with genuine concern. "I would hate to add to any existing tensions."
Hashirama stood quickly, moving between his friend and their guest with practiced diplomacy. "Madara, please. Lord Kibutsuchi is our guest."
The First Hokage turned back to Kenji with an expression mixing sympathy and regret. "Lord Kibutsuchi, I appreciate your desire to learn, but you must understand the difficulties involved. Ninja training typically begins in childhood, and the physical demands alone..."
"Furthermore," Hashirama continued more seriously, "if you wish to learn our techniques, you would need to become a sworn shinobi of Konohagakure. Our arts are not taught to outsiders, regardless of their intentions."
Kenji had anticipated this response and was prepared with his counter-offer. "Lord Hashirama, I understand the sensitivity involved. However, I'm not asking for access to your village's secret techniques or military strategies. Basic chakra manipulation, fundamental physical conditioning, perhaps some elementary defensive techniques—surely these could be taught without compromising village security?"
He paused, allowing the next words to carry appropriate weight. "In exchange, I would be prepared to make a substantial financial contribution to Konoha's development fund. Not as payment for services, but as an investment in the village's future."
The offer hung in the air between them. Hashirama's eyes widened slightly at the implications—Konoha's rapid growth had strained their resources to the breaking point, and substantial funding could solve numerous critical problems.
Even Madara seemed to reconsider his dismissive attitude, though his expression remained skeptical. Money might not impress the proud Uchiha personally, but he understood its importance to the village's survival.
"That's..." Hashirama began, then stopped himself. "Lord Kibutsuchi, such an arrangement would be unprecedented. I would need to discuss this matter with the village council and other senior leaders before making any commitments."
"Of course," Kenji replied smoothly. "I wouldn't expect an immediate decision on such an important matter. Please, take all the time you need for proper consideration."
Madara snorted quietly, but said nothing more. The dynamics in the room had shifted, and Kenji sensed that his offer had achieved its primary objective—creating a foundation for serious negotiation.
As he prepared to take his leave, Kenji added one final element to his proposal. "I should mention that I'm currently seeking a permanent residence in the village. Perhaps the council's deliberations could include recommendations for suitable properties? Someone of my particular... schedule requirements might benefit from guidance in such matters."
With appropriate bows and expressions of gratitude, Kenji departed, leaving the two founders to contemplate an offer that could reshape both his future and the village's resources.
The game had become more complex with Madara's involvement, but Kenji remained confident in his ability to navigate these political waters. Money, after all, spoke a universal language that even proud shinobi could understand.