Ethan slept for exactly three hours.
Not because he needed to wake up.
Because his brain simply refused to calm down.
He lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, hands folded on his chest, grinning like an idiot.
"I'm in the MCU," he whispered to himself for the tenth time. "In 2008. With two Sharingan. And Kakashi's entire kit."
He rolled onto his side.
"And I'm wasting time sleeping."
He sat up.
"Alright. New plan. We do something productive before I go insane."
The first thing he did was turn on his Sharingan.
The world snapped into that hyper-sharp clarity again—edges cleaner, motion smoother, details suddenly loud.
He looked around his apartment.
And for the first time, he didn't just see it.
He saw structure.
The way the lightbulb's filament glowed. The subtle vibration of the refrigerator motor. The imperfect alignment of the window frame.
"…That's new."
He focused on the outlet near the wall.
And his brain started doing something strange.
He wasn't just seeing the outlet.
He was seeing how it worked.
Not in a mystical way. In a mechanical, logical way. The current flow. The contact points. The wear patterns on the metal.
"…Oh. Oh that's not fair."
He stood up and walked to his old, battered laptop on the table.
It was slow. Loud. Held together by hope and tape.
He turned on the Sharingan and stared at it.
And suddenly—
He could track the heat. The data flow. The bottlenecks in the processor. The inefficiencies in the cooling. The slight delay in the RAM access.
His brain started building a mental blueprint.
"…This is like X-ray vision for engineering."
He laughed.
"No. This is worse. This is like cheating on reality."
He grabbed a screwdriver.
Two hours later, his laptop was in pieces on the table.
Not broken.
Disassembled.
Every screw in a neat row.
Every component laid out like a diagram.
He stared at the motherboard, Sharingan active.
He could see how signals traveled across it.
Where they slowed.
Where they crossed.
Where design compromises had been made to save money.
"…I could fix this," he murmured.
He paused.
"…No. I could make this better."
That thought hit him like a truck.
He sat back in his chair.
"…I'm in 2008."
He looked at the parts again.
"This is pre-smartphone boom. Pre-tablet boom. Pre-everything."
His heart started to race.
"I'm not just in the MCU," he whispered.
"I'm in the past."
He stood up and started pacing.
"Okay. Think. Think like a responsible time traveler with anime powers."
He held up a finger.
"Stark exists. Which means ultra-high-end tech exists."
Another finger.
"But consumer tech?"
He gestured at the laptop.
"This stuff is still clunky. Slow. Inefficient."
Another finger.
"And I have a pair of eyes that can analyze, copy, and optimize anything I look at."
He stopped.
"…I don't need to be a superhero."
He slowly smiled.
"I can be worse."
He spent the rest of the day in a library and electronics stores.
He didn't steal anything.
He didn't need to.
He just looked.
Phones.
Laptops.
Routers.
Televisions.
MP3 players.
Every time he turned on the Sharingan, the same thing happened:
His brain broke them down into systems.
Not just parts.
Design philosophy.
Manufacturing shortcuts.
Cost-saving measures.
"…This is like reading the thought process of the engineers who built these."
He took notes.
A lot of notes.
By the time he got back to his apartment, his notebook was half full of sketches, arrows, and increasingly aggressive circles around words like:
THERMAL BOTTLENECK
POWER INEFFICIENCY
BAD LAYOUT
THIS IS DUMB
He collapsed into his chair.
"…I could build a better phone than this. In 2008."
He blinked.
"…I could build a better everything than this."
He didn't just have Kakashi's combat skills.
He had Kakashi's analysis ability.
The same talent that let Kakashi copy jutsu on sight was now being applied to:
Circuit design
Architecture
Software flow
Manufacturing processes
"…This is horrifying," he said with awe. "I am a walking research and development department."
He turned on his old desktop PC.
Slow boot.
He watched it with the Sharingan active.
And saw the inefficiencies in the OS itself.
"…You're kidding me."
He leaned closer.
"…I can see the logic flow."
Not code.
Behavior.
Which meant…
He opened a basic programming tutorial.
He read one page.
Then turned on the Sharingan.
And suddenly the structure clicked.
"…Oh. That's how that's supposed to work."
He laughed.
"This is beyond broken."
That night, he didn't sleep.
He planned.
He filled page after page.
The PlanStep 1: Money.
He needed capital.
Not millions.
Just enough to start prototyping.
He circled a few legal options.
Freelance tech repair (with Sharingan, he could fix anything)
Consulting (anonymous)
Small-scale hardware optimization
"Stay small. Stay invisible."
Step 2: Infrastructure.
He needed:
A workshop
Tools
Components
And time
He looked at rental spaces.
Found a cheap storage unit.
"…Perfect."
Step 3: The Product.
Not a supercomputer.
Not a weapon.
Not anything that would get attention.
He underlined the words:
CONSUMER TECH
"Phones. Laptops. Tablets. Routers."
He wrote:
Make them thinner
Make them faster
Make them cooler
Make them cheaper
"…And most importantly," he added, "make them reliable."
Step 4: The Company.
He stared at the page.
"…I need a name."
He tapped the pen.
"…Later."
He leaned back and looked at the ceiling.
"If I do this right…"
He smiled slowly.
"I don't just get rich."
"I shape the baseline of human technology before aliens ever show up."
He looked at his hands.
White hair fell into his eyes.
He turned on the Sharingan and watched the city lights through the window.
"…Stark builds miracles."
He turned them off.
"I build the world everyone else lives in."
Near dawn, he finally lay down.
"…I was reincarnated with god-tier combat abilities," he murmured.
"And my first move is to become a tech CEO."
He smiled.
"Life is weird."
Somewhere in the city, a man in a cave once built a suit of armor.
Somewhere else—
A white-haired man was about to quietly rewrite the future of consumer technology.