The moment she said it, she regretted it.
Phrasing it like that…
sounded as if she were implying something.
But Makoto smiled.
[Ding!
Kurenai Yuhi’s trust in your lie—”May become your wife in the future.” Trust Level: 20%.
Manifestation Degree: 6%.] It worked.
Although it was only 20% trust, and because her plot weight wasn’t heavily weighted, her base manifestation cap was only 30%.
This meant that even if Kurenai believed him 100%, the System could only manifest a 30% effect.
But it didn’t matter.
A trickling stream lasts long.
20% today, 30% tomorrow, 50% the day after…
sooner or later, he could max it out.
Plus, her favorability had increased too.
Although 6% manifestation wasn’t much, it was better than nothing.
“Thank you,” Makoto smiled at Kurenai.
“That’s high praise.” Then he turned around to face Asuma, who was still glaring at him.
“Did you hear that, Asuma?
Kurenai said she might choose someone like me.
Keep trying your best.” Having said his piece, he casually strolled back to his seat.
Asuma stood rooted to the spot, his knuckles popping from clenching his fists so tightly.
But Kurenai pulled him back.
“Asuma, stop making a scene,” Kurenai said softly.
“Makoto was just joking.” “Joking?” Asuma gritted his teeth.
“Is that what you call a joke?
He clearly meant it!” “Enough,” Kurenai interrupted him.
“Class is starting.” The teacher walked into the classroom, leaving Asuma with no choice but to swallow his rage and sit down.
For the entire period, he glared at Makoto.
Makoto didn’t care in the slightest.
He was thinking about something else.
Just now, the system prompt showed Kurenai Yuhi only had a narrative weight of 30%.
In the original series, Kurenai didn’t lack screen time.
She was Hinata’s Jonin mentor, and even had a child with Asuma.
In the early story, she was always hanging around Kakashi, Guy, and Asuma.
You could say she was one of Konoha’s poster-child Jonin.
A character like that only had a 30% weight?
*I wonder how this damn System calculates weight values,* Makoto thought.
The bell rang, signaling the end of class.
Kurenai packed her things, preparing to head home.
Asuma followed beside her, still chattering incessantly.
“Kurenai, ignore that Makoto Uchiha.
Everyone in the Uchiha Clan is like that—arrogant, conceited, and looking down on everyone…” Kurenai didn’t speak.
Her mind was still dwelling on what happened earlier.
Makoto asking her whether he’d “make a good husband.” Her answering “I might choose someone like you.” Looking back on it now, those words were far too reckless.
But at that moment…
for some reason she couldn’t explain, she just blurted them out.
And after saying it, the way she viewed Makoto…
felt slightly different.
Before, she thought of Makoto as just a classmate who was strong and good-looking, but nothing special.
Now, whenever she saw Makoto, her heart beat just a little bit faster.
“Kurenai?
Are you listening?” Asuma asked.
“Huh?
Yes, I’m listening,” Kurenai snapped back to reality.
“What did you say?” Asuma sighed.
“I said, tomorrow is the weekend.
Do you want to go up to Hokage Rock to enjoy the view?” “I…” Kurenai hesitated.
“I have plans tomorrow.” “What plans?” “Training,” Kurenai made up an excuse.
“My Chakra control still needs practice.” It was actually an excuse.
She simply didn’t want to hang out alone with Asuma.
Previously, she didn’t think much of it—Asuma was a friend, and hanging out was normal.
But now…
now she felt a bit annoyed.
Annoyed that Asuma was always tagging along, annoyed by his constant possessive attitude of “you belong to me.” She wasn’t anyone’s appendage.
“Then I’ll train with you!” Asuma immediately offered.
“No need,” Kurenai shook her head.
“I want to practice alone.” Saying that, she quickened her pace, leaving Asuma behind.
Asuma stood rooted on the spot, watching Kurenai’s receding back with a completely bewildered expression.
What did he do wrong?
Why was Kurenai suddenly giving him the cold shoulder?
Was it because of Makoto Uchiha?
It must be!
Asuma clenched his fists, fire blazing in his eyes.
Makoto Uchiha…
Just you wait!
Meanwhile, Makoto Uchiha was on his way home.
Carrying freshly bought beef in hand, his mind was still pondering the NPC weight values.
He thought about it for a moment, then chuckled.
Whatever, no use overthinking it.
Anyway, there was plenty of time.
Take it slow.
Humming an out-of-tune melody, he pushed open his front door.
The house was still just as run-down and empty as before.
But at least now, he could afford to eat meat.
And in the future, who knows, maybe he’d even get an exceptionally stunning girlfriend.
“Life,” Makoto put the beef into the pot and lit the fire, “still has plenty to look forward to.” As Makoto ate the meat at the table, he absentmindedly spun his chopsticks between his fingers, deliberating on what skill to manifest next to boost his strength.
First of all, the Ninjutsu path was dead on arrival.
What a joke.
An orphaned child of the Uchiha whose parents were deceased, suddenly demonstrating world-shattering Ninjutsu talent?
His fate would definitely not be getting put on a pedestal, but being secretly eliminated by Danzo, or turned into a prime Sharingan incubator and experimental specimen for Orochimaru down the line.
Power appearing too abruptly and defying logic would be nothing short of a death warrant before having adequate self-defense capabilities.
Therefore, he could only continue to delve deeper into Taijutsu.
Right now, he went through the remaining five techniques of the Marine Six Powers one by one.
After all, the Marine Six Powers were relatively simple and easier to manifest.
Shigan (Finger Pistol) was the first to be eliminated.
Makoto curled his lip.
When reading the manga in his past life, he felt this skill was purely filler.
“Poking people with fingers for no reason?
I have Kunai, Shuriken, and down the road I could even snag a godly weapon like the Kusanagi Sword to mess around with.
Why poke people with my fingers?” In this Ninja World where Kunai, swords, and Explosive Tags flew everywhere, specializing in “finger poking” was practically performance art.
Kami-e (Paper Art) sounded like a “divine dodge skill,” but its cost-effectiveness in the Ninja World was far too low.
Relaxing the body to feel air currents sounded great on paper, but in front of the Substitution technique—one of the most basic Three-Body Techniques—it lost all its prestige instantly.
Instead of wasting effort to manifest that skill, he’d be better off thinking how to use his daily “Lie Made Real” opportunity to become even more proficient with Substitution.
Sori (Shave)—high-speed movement was indeed tempting.
But the problem was that the Ninja World had the Body Flicker Jutsu.
Not to mention the ceiling of space-time Ninjutsu like the Flying Raijin in the future.
If he was going to invest effort into manifesting something, it should be on Body Flicker Jutsu, as having an existing concept made it easier to manifest.
Rankyaku (Tempest Kick) looked pretty cool.
But long-range attacks in the Ninja World were far stronger than that.
Great Fireball Jutsu, Wind Style: Vacuum Wave, Lightning Style: False Darkness, Tailed Beast Ball…
the slicing power of Rankyaku had zero punch compared to those.
Its only merit might be being “hand-seal-less,” so he could wait until he had more opportunities to manifest it later.
Either way, Rankyaku held the same low status as the Great Fireball Jutsu in Makoto’s heart.
Finally, his gaze landed on “Geppo” (Moonwalk).
Aerial mobility in the early-to-mid stages of the Ninja World was practically a strategic-tier advantage.
Thinking carefully about it, there were barely a handful of ninjas in Naruto who could legitimately fly for long periods.
Deidara relied on clay birds, and the Third Tsuchikage relied on the Light-Weight Rock Technique—both were exclusive secret arts.
Everyone else either used summons like Sasuke’s hawk, or had to reach late-game Six Paths level to float freely.
This meant that once he mastered Geppo, he would hold 3D battlefield initiative that the vast majority of ninjas couldn’t hope to match.
On the offensive, he could attack from above; on the defensive, he could take to the air to dodge ground-level Ninjutsu and ambushes.
Reconnaissance, surprise attacks, retreats, maneuvering…
his tactical options would multiply exponentially.
In an encounter, this was a dimensional strike.
“I must get Geppo.” Makoto murmured under his breath, tapping his finger lightly against the table.
This wasn’t just a skill; it was a key ticket to aerial combat.
In a Ninja World where almost every fight took place on the ground, taking the battle into the air first meant grasping the key to victory ahead of everyone else.
As for how to make Obito or Guy believe he had comprehended such an absurd Taijutsu technique that let him step on air to walk into the sky…
Well, he’d have to invent a really good story.
Stroking his chin, Makoto began framing his next “benevolent lie.”