Ren didn’t wait to see if the Uchiha survived the plunge into the rapids.
In a world full of chakra-enhanced monsters, assuming an enemy was dead was the fastest way to end up in a grave.
He turned away from the river, dragging his bruised, ten-year-old body deeper into the rain-soaked forest.
Every breath tasted like rust and pine.
His body was exhausted, his chakra coils throbbed from the sudden, crude burst of energy he’d forced through them, and his clothes were ruined.
Yet, despite the physical agony, Ren felt a cold sense of clarity.
This body’s original owner had been weak, terrified, and nameless—a helpless war orphan caught in the crossfire of titans.
But now, Ren was in control.
He trudged through the mud for nearly twenty minutes until he found a hidden alcove beneath the roots of a massive, hollowed-out oak tree.
It was dry, cramped, and concealed by thick brambles.
He crawled inside, pulled his knees to his chest, and leaned his head back against the damp wood, gasping for air.
‘System,’ he called out silently.
Nothing happened.
No menu popped up to guide him, no friendly voice broke down his stats, and no shop opened to sell him instant healing potions.
Ren let out a quiet, raspy chuckle.
‘Right.
No tutorials.
I have to figure out everything manually.’
He closed his eyes and focused inward, examining the strange sensation in his gut.
The memories of his host body provided a rough blueprint, but experiencing chakra firsthand was completely different.
It felt like a secondary circulatory system—a hidden river of physical energy mixed with mental focus flowing right alongside his blood.
He focused on his breathing, slowing his heart rate just like he’d read in high-level martial arts concepts back in his past life.
Slowly, deliberately, he began pulling tiny wisps of chakra from his navel, circulating them through his arm and into his hands.
It was agonizingly slow, like pushing thick syrup through narrow glass tubes, but with every cycle, the pathways grew slightly wider.
His fine motor control was already improving.
‘In my real body, I’m six years old with latent Uchiha blood,’ Ren thought, staring at his muddy hands in the dark.
‘If I bring back this exact chakra circulating instinct, opening my coils in Konoha will be effortless.’
Suddenly, the wind shifted.
Through the dense rain outside the hollow tree, Ren heard the faint crunch of wet leaves.
He froze, holding his breath.
His right hand instinctively gripped his chipped kunai.
“Check the tree line,” a harsh voice ordered from outside.
“The Uchiha scout hasn’t returned.
Look for bodies or survivors.”
Ren peered through a gap in the roots.
Three ninja wearing blue-tinted armor decorated with the white tree crest of the Senju Clan were walking through the clearing.
They were scavengers—foot soldiers tasked with clearing the battlefield and looting the dead.
Ren’s heart hammered against his ribs, but his mind remained cold.
He didn’t have clan Jutsu.
He didn’t have a Sharingan yet.
But he had something these Warring States ninja lacked: modern tactical awareness and a total lack of hesitation.
‘I need gear,’ Ren decided, eyeing the steel kunai pouches and chakra paper strapped to the leader’s waist.
‘And I need better weapons if I’m going to survive long enough to alter this era’s timeline.’
He shrank deeper into the shadows of the hollow root, suppressing his breathing, waiting for the leader to step just an inch closer.
Luckly for him this is very weak squad likely a genin squad in future of konoaha and the leader is also genin