After the duel mission ended, Chiba's consciousness withdrew from the duel space — the "dungeon" faded, and reality returned.
When he opened his eyes, it was already past midnight.
At home, silence.
Chiba sat up, breathing out a long, turbid sigh. He could feel it — the difference running through every inch of his body.
The Uzumaki clan physique wasn't just a simple power-up.
Once integrated, it would continue to evolve as his body grew, strengthening him bit by bit.
"This isn't even close to the final form…"
Chiba's lips curved faintly.
The Next Morning
He woke before dawn, as usual.
But this time, the fatigue that had lingered in his limbs for weeks was completely gone. His body felt light, his chakra steady.
The Uzumaki physique was living up to its name.
In the world of shinobi, bloodline and talent ruled all.
The Uzumaki and Senju clans — descendants of the Sage's body — were blessed with immense chakra and vitality.
Now, Chiba finally had that foundation too.
He ate a quick breakfast and headed to his usual forest training ground.
The system chimed softly.
[Daily Quests Refreshed]
[Swing the sword 1,500 times: Reward — Kendo EXP +10]
[Refine Chakra: Reward — Chakra +1]
The required swings had increased again, from one thousand to fifteen hundred.
But Chiba's body was ready for it.
Steel flashed in the air.
Chiba swung his sword with mechanical precision — each motion clean, consistent, and full of controlled power.
Sweat rolled down his temples, but his focus never wavered.
"1498, 1499… 1500."
[Ding! Daily Task Complete]
He didn't even pause at the notification. He was used to the rhythm by now.
"Next up… throwing practice."
He sheathed the sword and pulled out a set of kunai.
[Temporary Task Released]
[Hidden Weapon Training]: As a ninja, mastery of throwing is fundamental. Raise your proficiency by 3 levels to unlock a special reward.
Throwing (Proficiency): Level 0 (1/100)
[Accept?]
"Yes."
Chiba accepted instantly.
More skills never hurt — and with his "Unforgettable" talent, every ability could be honed indefinitely.
The first kunai left his hand.
Thud.
The sound echoed through the forest, startling a few birds from the branches.
He retrieved it. Threw again.
Over and over, the rhythm continued — the dull thuds marking progress.
At first, his throws were scattered. But as his proficiency rose, his grip, angle, and timing subtly refined themselves.
He could feel each successful throw feed back into his mind — a quiet +1 ringing somewhere deep inside.
Practice begets progress.
By the time the sun hung high above, the once-smooth tree trunk was riddled with small craters, one spot at the center driven deep from countless direct hits.
Whssht—THUD!
Another throw struck the same hole perfectly.
Chiba exhaled.
"The motion's smoother… same strength, farther flight. I can even adjust for wind and resistance now."
He analyzed calmly — even his reasoning felt sharper.
Hours passed.
His proficiency climbed toward completion — 90%, then higher.
His throws were fluid now; kunai, shuriken, even senbon — all felt natural.
Compared to shuriken or senbon, kunai were harder to master due to weight and drag.
But Chiba had reached a balance.
"Impressive," a voice said softly behind him.
Chiba froze. His hand tightened on the next kunai as he turned.
A boy stood a few paces away — dark hair, calm eyes, a forehead protector gleaming on his brow.
Uchiha crest.
Itachi.
Chiba's pulse skipped.
The boy couldn't be older than eight — yet his aura was heavy, quiet, and sharp, like a drawn blade.
Itachi smiled slightly. "How old are you?"
For a moment, Chiba was silent. He didn't like this feeling.
In the anime, Itachi was painted as a hero — a tragic savior.
But in this world, where every breath carried real consequence, Chiba couldn't afford that blind trust.
He finally answered, voice calm.
"Three. Chiba."
Itachi nodded. "Three years old… you're the same age as my little brother. Maybe you'll become friends one day."
He smiled — soft, genuine, almost warm.
Then turned, and disappeared into the trees.
Only when Itachi's presence faded did Chiba exhale, shoulders easing.
"Knowing the face doesn't mean knowing the heart…"
This was the ninja world — a place where kindness could hide a blade.
He looked down at his calloused hands, still holding a kunai.
"I have to get stronger."
The quiet resolve returned to his eyes.
And in the stillness of the forest, the sound of steel striking wood began again.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Chiba's training continued — relentless as ever.