The 37th Year of Konoha. Endless rain.
A curtain of gray drizzle hung over the skies of the Hidden Leaf Village.
The air was thick with the mingled stench of wet earth and rusted iron—the scent of war.
The Second Great Ninja War raged on. Casualty reports returned from the front like falling snow, each bringing with it a new name carved into the memorial stone… and forcing the academy to advance the graduation exams.
In the training field, a line of ten-year-old children waited nervously for their turn.
"Next, Nishikawa Tetsu."
The proctor, a Chūnin named Daikoku, furrowed his brow. He clutched a rain-soaked grading sheet, his voice tinged with fatigue and half-hearted disinterest.
From the crowd stepped a black-haired, dark-eyed boy.
His features were clean-cut, though his frame was slender.
Unlike his peers, who trembled with anxiety, Nishikawa Tetsu's gaze remained eerily calm—like still water. In fact, it carried a maturity that didn't belong on a ten-year-old's face.
"Here."
His voice wasn't loud, but it was clear.
He walked to the throwing line and retrieved three shuriken from his tool pouch.
"This is the graduation exam, and that kid's not even nervous?"
"Yeah, sure, he aced the written test, but everyone knows in combat class his chakra reserves are pathetic."
Whispers rippled through the onlookers.
Tetsu ignored them. His eyes didn't lock onto the bullseye—instead, they lifted slightly, scanning the wind-battered treetops. He let the rhythm and pressure of the raindrops patter against his cheek.
Northwest wind. Force 4. Humidity, 90%. Dense rainfall—higher air resistance. Distance: twenty meters. Considering shuriken mass and shape, adjustments needed for wind drift and drop rate.
His past life's scientific mind stirred into motion.
Even in this world ruled by chakra—a force shaped by will—he insisted on dissecting ninjutsu with science.
He didn't tremble like the others. Nor did he adopt a flashy stance.
Raise the hand. Flick the wrist. Release.
The motion was textbook-perfect—stripped of flair, free of chakra enhancement. Just raw muscle memory and trajectory physics.
The shuriken arced through the air in uncanny curves.
They veered slightly off course due to the sidewind—only to snap back as if guided by invisible strings, picking up rotational velocity with the gust.
"Thud! Thud! Thud!"
Three solid hits. The shuriken landed in a perfect triangular spread, clustered tightly around the bullseye. Not a hair out of place.
"Perfect score."
Daikoku's eyebrows rose. He gave the usually quiet student a second look. "Interesting. He actually used the wind to his advantage. The throws were a little underpowered—couldn't sink them three inches into the stump—but for a Genin candidate? Not bad."
'Scientific calculation,' Tetsu corrected silently, though outwardly he just nodded politely. "Thank you, sensei."
"Don't thank me yet. Next is ninjutsu evaluation." Daikoku pointed toward the testing gear and a wooden substitution stump. "Use the ninjutsu you're best at—offensive or defensive."
This was the real test.
No matter how accurate your throws, without chakra, it meant nothing in this world.
Tetsu inhaled deeply. His fingers flew into hand seals.
Ram–Snake–Tiger.
"Clone Technique!"
A puff of light smoke burst out, revealing two perfect copies of himself.
Well—almost perfect.
Anyone with a trained eye could tell. The clones were faint around the edges, and one had a flickering left leg.
Disappointment flickered across Daikoku's face as he slashed a line across the score sheet.
"Chakra control's decent. Hand seals in 0.8 seconds—standard level. But…" He sighed. "Your chakra reserves are too low. Barely average for your age, if not under. Just keeping two clones active must be your limit, right?"
A wave of emptiness pulsed through Tetsu's body. His chakra network had run dry. He dispelled the clones and nodded, pale-faced. "Yes."
As a transmigrator, he had no Uzumaki vitality, no Uchiha eyes, no Hyūga Byakugan. No system, either.
In this bloodline-worshipping world, Tetsu had drawn the role of a side character.
"Nishikawa Tetsu, you pass."
Daikoku handed him a metal forehead protector, the congratulation in his tone as faint as mercy. Instead, there was something cruel in his pity. "You passed, yes. But remember: on the battlefield, no one waits for you to calculate wind direction. If you don't raise your chakra capacity, you won't last long in a drawn-out fight. You'll die quickly."
"Assessment: Mediocre."
He wrote it down without hesitation.
Tetsu accepted the protector. His thumb traced the cold, engraved Leaf symbol. A faint smirk tugged at the edge of his lips.
Mediocre?
To someone who just wanted to survive this cruel war… that was the highest praise.
The weak die early. The strong attract fire.
Only the mediocre can slip through the cracks—buying time to turn theory into reality.
Scientific theory, to be precise.
"Next! Namikaze Minato!"
The crowd stirred the instant the name was called.
A boy with radiant blond hair and a smile like sunlight stepped forward.
As he passed Tetsu, he gave a friendly nod, flashing a bright smile.
"Your shuriken throws were amazing. How'd you make them curve like that?"
"Instinct," Tetsu lied.
Minato grinned and continued on.
The next two minutes belonged to a genius.
Shuriken thrown in a blink, all on target—even ricocheting off each other mid-air to strike blind spots.
His ninjutsu? Even more jaw-dropping. His Body Flicker Technique was so fast, Daikoku didn't even catch it. His chakra pool wasn't Uzumaki-level, but far beyond the norm.
"A genius! An absolute genius!" Daikoku was practically trembling with excitement.
Meanwhile, in the back, a black-haired boy stood with his arms crossed, eyes cold with disdain.
A red and white fan crest adorned the back of his shirt.
In a quiet corner, Tetsu tied the forehead protector to his arm, already sketching diagrams in his mind.
My low chakra pool is a fatal flaw.
If the 'software' is weak… then I'll have to boost the 'hardware'.
Modified explosive tags… chakra-conductive alloy ratios…
A glint of fanatic light shimmered in his eyes.
Oh Ninja World… are you ready for the age of science?