Night.
Chiba dragged his tired body home. Even though he had defeated Naruto in the duel space and gained the physique of the Uzumaki clan, that didn't change the reality — he was still a three-year-old child.
No, not exactly.
It was the end of Konoha's Year 51. His birthday was February 19th, and after the new year, he would be four years old.
The Uzumaki physique had fully merged with his body, and it would continue to strengthen as he grew — just like a true child of the Uzumaki.
Even so, a child's body had its limits.
No matter how special the bloodline, fatigue came faster than for an adult.
He opened the door quietly.
"I'm back."
The porch light flickered on — dim, but warm.
It wasn't bright, but it felt like a lighthouse in the dark sea, guiding him home.
No one answered.
Chiba was used to that.
He washed up, then lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
"Still too impatient…" he muttered.
Training and system quests — both moved in order, but today's sudden encounter with Uchiha Itachi had thrown off his rhythm.
That boy… was terrifyingly strong.
Entered the academy at six.
Graduated at seven.
Awakened Sharingan at eight.
Became a Chūnin at ten.
Joined the Anbu at eleven.
Promoted to Anbu Captain at thirteen…
That kind of résumé was beyond reach for ordinary people.
Then Chiba remembered — there was still a task pending.
He called up the panel.
[Hidden Weapon Training]
As a ninja, mastery of throwing is fundamental. Raise proficiency by 3 levels for an unexpected gain.
(Completed)
Throwing (Proficiency): Level 4 (1/100000)
"Level four? Overcompleted?"
He frowned slightly.
Level one needed 100 experience.
Level four, 100,000.
Each level multiplied the requirement tenfold.
"So the higher I go, the harder it gets…"
He didn't dwell too long on it. Overthinking wouldn't change the grind.
Then he looked at the reward section.
[Reward: Talent 'Throwing Grandmaster・MAX']
A new talent.
"Never Forget."
"Flat-Cut Grandmaster."
And now—
"Throwing Grandmaster・MAX."
Chiba could feel it instantly — the new sense of control. Whether it was kunai, shuriken, senbon, or even an ordinary pebble, his fingers moved with perfect precision.
He had become a true Master of Hidden Weapons.
"This talent… is really good." He smiled faintly.
He opened his skill panel.
[Skills]
• Three Body Technique — Lv.3 (1/10000)
• Throwing — MAX
• Chakra Refinement — Lv.3 (1/10000)
• Taijutsu — Lv.4 (1/100000)
The Three Body Technique included Clone, Transformation, and Substitution — all merged into one comprehensive rating.
Chiba practiced it regularly, but most of his time went into chakra control, swordsmanship, and body technique.
With the system, his progress was steady and measurable — yet his life itself wasn't data.
He still bled. He still felt pain. He still got tired.
There was no magical "bloodline unlock" button.
"Under the blessing of Throwing Grandmaster・MAX, my proficiency hit the ceiling. That must be the 'unexpected gain' the quest mentioned."
He chuckled. "Really not bad."
Then something caught his eye on the panel:
[Skill Grade: 10]
"Tenth grade, huh?"
He nodded thoughtfully.
If each level increased tenfold, then reaching the tenth grade would demand astronomical effort.
"So the duel space is my shortcut — like a complementary training dimension."
Defeat projections, earn rewards — from talents and bloodlines to skill experience.
His Taijutsu had already risen to Level 4, partly due to rewards from defeating Naruto and Konohamaru projections.
Each step, slow but certain.
"Let's set a small goal first…" He grinned.
"Kill— no, become Kage-level."
Without the system, the best he could have hoped for was to surpass his father, reach Special Jōnin, maybe even standard Jōnin.
But in the Fourth Ninja World War, even Jōnin were cannon fodder.
Even Kage-level shinobi were sometimes powerless before the gods of chakra.
Now, though—
Kage-level wasn't his end.
It was his starting line.
"One day, I'll stand above them all."
"Even among the gods… I'll fly beside Kaguya herself."
A faint smile crossed his lips as sleep crept in.
Uchiha Compound — Late Night
At the edge of Konoha, far from the village center, stood the relocated Uchiha district.
In a quiet room, Uchiha Itachi lay awake.
He sat up slowly, the dim moonlight catching his face. His eyes opened—
Scarlet.
Three tomoe turned gently within the red glow.
Through the partition, he saw the faint flicker of three flames — the lives of his father, his mother, and little Sasuke.
And then he remembered the silver-haired boy from that afternoon.
"That kid… Chiba, was it? Sasuke and he might get along."
He murmured softly, then his eyes hardened.
"Sharingan…"
Behind his eyelids flashed the masked man — one eye visible through the swirling mask, three tomoe glowing in the darkness.
He remembered his fallen teammate, Chūanma.
The blood. The helplessness. The rage.
His heart clenched.
"Next time," he whispered,
"I won't lose again."