[* 3rd Person POV *] The soul drifted.
It moved through a place that was neither beginning nor end, a vastness so absolute that mortal language collapsed under the weight of trying to name it.
Light and darkness did not oppose each other here, they interwove, folded, and unfolded in patterns that had no edges and no center.
Time did not pass.
It simply existed as a single, endless present that the soul could neither grasp nor escape.
There was beauty of a kind no human eye had ever been meant to witness smooth planes of living color that shifted without movement, distances that felt intimate and infinite at the same time, a silence so complete it seemed to hum with quiet understanding.
Nothing here had been touched by the crude hands of men.
No ambition, no greed, no filth of history had ever marked these currents.
The realm simply was, and the soul wandered through it without memory, without purpose, without even the awareness that it had once been anything else.
It should not have been there.
Souls of its kind were not permitted this far.
The forbidden currents carried it deeper, past thresholds that older, cleaner spirits never crossed.
No alarm sounded.
No guardian rose.
The place remained peaceful, indifferent, eternal.
Then a hand closed around it.
The grip was not physical, yet it was absolute.
In an instant the endless drifting ended.
The surreal beauty of the outer realm vanished as if a curtain had been yanked aside, and the soul found itself elsewhere somewhere smaller, denser, and far more alive with intent.
Colors here were sharper, mischief threaded through every surface like veins of quicksilver.
The air itself seemed to grin.
A presence stood before the soul.
Tall in the way gods are tall when they choose to be noticed, features shifting between handsome and sly depending on the angle of attention.
Eyes bright with the particular amusement of someone who has watched mortals stumble for eons and never grown tired of the show.
He was the god of mischief, and he had decided the drifting thing was interesting enough to interrupt.
With a casual flex of will he restored what the passage had stripped away.
Memory returned in a flood.
Cain.
That had been the name.
In the life just ended he had been a man who lived exactly as he pleased.
Charm without apology, appetite without shame, a player who collected women the way some men collected stories thoroughly, attentively, and with the quiet pride of someone who made certain none of them ever felt used when the night was over.
He was bold enough to take what he wanted and careful enough to keep what he took.
Perversion was not a secret he hid, it was a language he spoke fluently, and the women who answered in kind stayed loyal because he never forgot that loyalty was a two way current.
He had died the way such men often die: abruptly, mid life, with unfinished business and a great many unfinished desires.
Now he stood or rather existed in front of a god who looked at him the way a bored cat looks at a particularly lively mouse.
“You’re awake” The god said.
His voice carried the easy cadence of someone who had never once been hurried.
“Good.
The outer roads are tedious once you’ve seen them a few thousand times.
I pulled you because the alternative was letting you keep floating until something less entertaining found you” “Anyways, I am bored.
You are going to fix that” Cain’s restored mind sorted the situation with the same speed it had once sorted club rooms and bedroom politics.
A god.
A demand for entertainment.
An offer wrapped inside a threat so lightly that it almost felt like friendship.
“Entertainment” Cain repeated.
“You want a show?” “I want a life lived loudly enough that I don’t have to invent new ways to amuse myself” The god gestured, and a swirling window of possibility opened in the air between then worlds layered upon worlds, some familiar, most not.
“You get four wishes.
Use them to shape the stage.
Then you live.
I watch.
If the performance is dull I will grow bored again, and bored gods are not kind.
If it is interesting… well.
Interesting has its own rewards” Cain did not waste time on false humility or moral theater.
He had never pretended to be anything other than what he was.
“First” He said, “the world of Boruto.
Specifically, the body of Naruto Uzumaki.
Adult.
Hokage.
All the power, all the history, all the women already circling that particular life” The god’s smile widened.
“Bold and inconvenient for several existing plotlines.
Done.” “Second wish.
An R18 system.
One that tracks every perverted quest, every conquest, every corruption of the milfs of that world.
Strength for every success.
Loyalty for every woman I turn” “The system itself should be clear, measurable, and hungry.
I want to grow stronger the same way I used to grow a reputation, by taking what I want and making certain they stay mine” The god laughed, a sound like dice rolling across marble.
“Delightfully specific.
And filthy.
I approve.
The system is yours.
It will speak when it has something worth saying.
It will reward when the rewards are earned.
Fail, and it will simply watch you struggle.
That should keep things honest” “Third” Cain’s voice stayed level.
“Kurama’s soul should be gone.
The power stays.
I do not need a nine tailed fox trying to murder me the moment I open my eyes in that body.
Give me the chakra, the reserves, the raw force.
Leave the personality behind” The god tilted his head, considering.
“Practical.
Slightly boring, but practical.
Granted.
The beast’s power will sit in your new body like a loaded weapon with no opinions of its own” Cain paused only a fraction of a second longer.
“And a starter kit.
Something that makes the first steps less of a climb.
The beginning is always the hardest part.
I want tools, advantages, a little head start so the performance doesn’t stall while I’m still learning the stage” The god’s eyes glittered.
“A starter kit it is.
You will find it waiting when the transfer is complete.
Use it well.
Or waste it.
Either way, I will be watching” He raised one hand.
Reality folded.
Cain felt the old life peel away like wet paper.
The god’s realm dissolved.
For a single endless heartbeat there was only the sensation of falling through every possibility at once…
And then he opened his eyes.
Naruto Uzumaki’s body was larger than the one Cain had left behind.
Broad shoulders, dense muscle earned through years of war and leadership, the residual weight of a village on those shoulders even in sleep.
He lay in a wide bed in the Hokage residence, early morning light filtering through the blinds in thin gold bars.
Another day that he hadn’t managed to sleep back at his own home.
The room smelled of clean sheets, distant ink, and the faint residual scent of cleaning solutions still occasionally reaching his nose.
The system activated before he had fully finished taking inventory of the body.
A translucent interface unfolded at the edge of his vision, crisp and private.
Otherwise my updates will still remain consistent so there won’t be any issue if you don’t purchase it either!
So now imma spam this on each chapter] Link is present in the synopsis