In his third year since transmigrating into the Naruto world, Sato Fan finally accepted a cruel reality.
He had no Bloodline Limit, no Tailed Beast sealed within him, and no ancestral secret techniques.
His Chakra reserves were slightly higher due to his adult spiritual energy, but even then, he was only slightly above average at the Ninja Academy.
His Ninjutsu talent was mediocre, and while his Taijutsu wasn’t weak, it certainly wasn’t top-tier.
The only thing he had going for him was his complete memory of the entire Naruto plot from his previous life.
It was now the year 60 of Konoha.
Twelve years had passed since the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox’s Attack.
Minato Namikaze was long gone, and the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, sat firmly on the throne once more.
Konoha appeared prosperous, but undercurrents surged beneath the surface, and the shadows of war had never truly dissipated.
To many transmigrators, the Naruto world was a stage for clearing dungeons, using cheats, and dominating the Ninja World.
But for the ordinary Sato Fan, it was a hell-mode survival quest.
He knew all too well how cruel this world was.
A single Ninjutsu on the battlefield could wipe out scores of lives.
Genin were cannon fodder, Chunin were consumables, and even Jonin could lose their lives at any moment during a mission.
Countless talented Ninjas didn’t survive more than a few missions, and many scions of prestigious clans fell victim to conspiracies and war.
The Konoha Crush Plan, the Fourth Shinobi World War—which one of them didn’t leave fields of corpses in its wake?
Others transmigrated wanting to become the Hokage or sweep across the Ninja World.
Sato Fan also wished he could master extraordinary techniques and enjoy himself—”Beautiful women bring me the most joy…” (Yuen Wah face) Cough!
Wrong scene.
Having received a proper education, he wasn’t about to become a lunatic like Homelander.
Starting a harem wouldn’t be out of the question, but for now, he only wanted to live a stable life, stay away from the battlefield, and avoid becoming cannon fodder.
“Sato Fan: Chakra refinement: Pass.
Ninjutsu training progress: Lagging.
Taijutsu assessment: Grade D.”
Iruka-sensei looked at the assessment sheet in his hand, his brow furrowed deeply.
His voice was full of regret: “You have a steady temperament and you’re not stupid, so why is your Ninjutsu foundation so poor?
If this continues, you’ll struggle even to graduate.
And even if you do, you’ll only be able to handle low-level missions.”
A few snickers came from the surrounding classmates.
Sato Fan kept his head down, his expression unchanged, while he sighed inwardly.
He was an ordinary person in his previous life, and after transmigrating, he remained just as ordinary.
Even his name—Sato was the most common surname in Konoha; if you grabbed ten people off the street, one would likely be a Sato.
And his given name was just “Fan,” meaning “ordinary.”
He also wanted to punch Pain, kick Madara, and slay Kaguya to bring peace to the land, but given his current situation, he might not even survive a few episodes!
Fortunately, his timing was decent.
If he had been born during the Second or Third Shinobi World War, a Genin with his aptitude would have been pure cannon fodder.
It was a time of peace now, but crisis was imminent—three years after Naruto’s graduation, the Shippuden era would begin, followed by Pain’s destruction of Konoha and the Fourth Shinobi World War.
It was all one catastrophe after another!
So the question was: in the world of Ninjas, who doesn’t have to go to the battlefield and can live peacefully until the finale?
Sato Fan quickly calculated in his head.
Prestigious clans?
No, they were bound to be on the front lines during wartime.
Uchiha, Hyuga, Ino–Shika–Chō—every one of them was a main force in battle, carrying extreme risks.
Besides, it had nothing to do with an ordinary Sato like him.
Combat-type Ninjas?
Even worse.
Setting aside his mediocre talent, when the big wars came, even Jonin could be insta-killed by high-end powerhouses.
After all, not every Jonin was a Guy or a Kakashi.
While his mind was racing with these thoughts, a loud shout from nearby interrupted his train of thought.
“What are you guys laughing at!
Sato is just having an off day!”
Looking back, he saw the protagonist of Naruto, Uzumaki Naruto, his face flushed red, loudly questioning those who were mocking him.
But in return, he only received even more heartless laughter.
“Haha, the dead last loser is sticking up for the second-to-last loser.
Have you two failures bonded over your incompetence?”
Seeing things getting a bit out of hand, Sato Fan stepped forward and pulled Naruto back.
“Naruto…
forget it.”
Naruto was still a bit indignant, his face bright red, but after seeing Sato Fan’s calm expression, he had no choice but to drop it.
Seeing Naruto stand up for him, a wave of warmth flowed through Sato Fan’s heart.
He truly was the little sun of the Naruto world.
When he first transmigrated, he saw others bullying Naruto; while he hadn’t participated, he hadn’t stepped in to help either.
After all, who knew how many Anbu were hiding around the Jinchuriki, watching?
There was no need to look for trouble.
Once, while visiting the famous Konoha landmark Ichiraku Ramen, he saw Naruto staring intently at the shop.
In a moment of soft-heartedness, he asked, “Do you want to eat?”
In the next second, Naruto looked like his tail was about to start wagging, yet he awkwardly scratched the back of his head and chuckled sheepishly:
“R-Really?!
You’re willing to treat me to ramen…?
No one has ever offered to treat me before…”
Toward the end, his voice trailed off with a hint of loneliness, but it was quickly overshadowed by immense joy as he nodded vigorously:
“Then I won’t be polite!
I want a super large bowl of Chashu Ramen with extra green onions!”
They sat down at Ichiraku Ramen, and as soon as the bowl was served, Naruto inhaled it like a whirlwind, getting soup all over his face.
After eating and drinking his fill, he patted his belly contentedly, and the look in his eyes when he turned to Sato Fan was significantly warmer.
First, he scooted a little closer, somewhat embarrassed, and asked tentatively in a low voice:
“Um…
Sato Fan, do you…
not hate me?”
Before Sato Fan could answer, he quickly added, fearing rejection:
“I know everyone doesn’t really want to deal with me…
but you were willing to treat me to ramen and talk to me…”
His eyes sparkled as he stared at Sato Fan, his tone sincere and slightly pleading:
“We’re friends from now on, right?!
I’ll protect you from now on!
If anyone bullies you, just say my name!
When I become Hokage, I’ll make everyone acknowledge me—and you too!”
Afraid Sato Fan wouldn’t agree, he hurriedly added another sentence:
“Next time, I’ll treat you to ramen!
I definitely will!
I’ll treat you twice as much!”
With that, Naruto skipped away.
By the time they met again, it was the start of the Ninja Academy.
From then on, he acted like they were old friends and kept sticking to Sato Fan.
But ever since realizing his talent wasn’t nearly as outstanding as he’d imagined, Sato had been deliberately keeping his distance from Naruto.
Are you kidding me?
For a background character like him, who probably wouldn’t even get a clear face shot in the manga, staying by the protagonist’s side was practically a death wish.
Just look at Iruka, the person closest to Naruto in the early stages—he was beaten up and pierced by shuriken.
If Naruto hadn’t powered up, Iruka would have been in the ground long ago.
Although he survived later on, it was definitely in exchange for an incredibly high exposure rate.
Overall, the danger of being near the protagonist was ridiculously high.
Look at the Konoha 11—whenever they teamed up with Naruto, their missions never went smoothly, and all sorts of unexpected incidents kept cropping up.
So for self-preservation, Sato Fan was basically just on nodding terms with everyone in class.
Only Naruto truly considered him a friend.
Perhaps it was because Sato was his first friend, or perhaps because with one being dead last and the other second-to-last, both acting like failures, the boy felt a sense of mutual sympathy.