The graduation exam was set for March.
Spring sunlight lazily spilled onto the Ninja Academy playground.
The school hallways were packed with students; some were nervously flipping through notes, some were leaning against walls staring blankly, and others were pacing back and forth.
The air was filled with an atmosphere of anxiety and anticipation.
Sato Fan leaned against the corridor window, staring outside.
Six years.
From enrollment until now, a full six years.
He enrolled at six, and now he was twelve—a perfect age, neither too old nor too young, and not attention-grabbing.
Over these six years, he had perfected the art of “hiding his true ability.” His shuriken never hit the bullseye, his taijutsu was always a beat slow, and he always performed the hand seals for his Ninjutsu incorrectly.
Iruka had gone from his initial “frustration at his lack of potential” to his current “this kid isn’t great, but at least his attitude is correct.”
No one suspected him.
What was there to suspect about a “dead last” who had been at the bottom since enrollment?
“Group Seven, enter the exam room.”
The examiner’s voice came from the classroom.
There was a commotion in the hallway as several people hurried inside.
Sato Fan continued to look out the window.
A few lower-grade students were chasing each other on the playground, their laughter drifting in through the glass, muffled.
In a few hours, he would be an official Ninja.
A Genin, of course—the lowest level.
“Hey, Sato!”
Someone patted him on the shoulder.
He turned to see Ishida, a classmate, a civilian student who also lacked any presence.
“Are you nervous?”
“I’m alright.”
“I’m nervous to death,” Ishida said, rubbing his hands.
“I’ve been practicing the Clone Technique for three months and it’s still shaky.
What if I fail during the exam?”
“You won’t.
You practice well enough.”
“Really?” Ishida’s eyes lit up.
“Do you think I can pass?”
“Yes.”
Sato Fan wasn’t just comforting him.
Ishida’s Clone Technique was actually quite good, at least much better than his own as a “dead last.” It was just that the guy lacked confidence and his hands always shook from nerves during exams.
“Group Nine, Uzumaki Naruto.”
Sato Fan’s gaze followed the voice.
Naruto was squatting in the corner of the hallway, muttering something.
Upon hearing his name, he jumped up, but his legs had fallen asleep, and he stumbled, nearly falling.
“Idiot,” Sasuke said coldly, walking into the classroom first.
“Who are you calling an idiot!” Naruto jumped up and chased after him, limping.
Sato Fan watched this scene, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly.
No matter how many times he saw it, the image of these three together was always interesting.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t in that class—though, of course, he didn’t want to be either.
Iruka’s voice drifted from the classroom.
“Uzumaki Naruto, Clone Technique.”
Then came Naruto’s loud voice: “Clone Technique!”
A few seconds of silence.
“Failed.” Iruka’s voice carried obvious helplessness.
“What?!” Naruto’s scream pierced the wall.
“Give me another chance!
I definitely—”
“Quiet.
Next, Uchiha Sasuke.”
There was whispering in the hallway.
Some were gloating, some showed sympathy, but most people just listened, unconcerned.
Sato Fan didn’t turn back.
He knew what would happen—Naruto would fail the graduation exam, then be manipulated by Mizuki to steal the scroll of seals, learn the Shadow Clone, and finally pass the make-up exam using Shadow Clones.
That was the turning point in Naruto’s destiny.
It had nothing to do with him.
“Group Fourteen, Sato Fan, Ishida Ken, Inoue Takehiko.”
It was his turn.
Sato Fan took a deep breath and pushed the door open to enter the classroom.
Only Iruka was in the room.
A stack of report cards was spread out on the table, and the grading sheet beside it was densely filled with writing.
Sunlight streamed in from the window, making the dust in the air clearly visible.
“Sato Fan,” Iruka looked at him.
“You’re here.”
“Yes.”
“In recent years, your theoretical scores have always been good, but your practical combat…” Iruka paused.
“How should I put it?
Very consistent.”
Sato Fan knew what “consistent” meant—consistently keeping to the edge of the passing line.
“Today, as long as you pass the Clone Technique, you can graduate.”
“Yes.”
Sato Fan stood in the center of the classroom, raised his hands, and began to weave hand seals.
Ram – Snake – Tiger—
He deliberately slowed his fingers by half a beat, looking as if he had hesitated.
Chakra surged from his body, condensing into a human shape beside him.
The figure was crooked, like a low-quality product kneaded from dough.
It only existed for less than two seconds before dissipating, but in those two seconds, it did indeed “move”—a leg stepped forward, an arm lifted slightly.
This was proof of having “substance.”
Iruka stared at him for a few seconds, then wrote a character on the grading sheet.
“Pass.”
Sato Fan felt relieved, but on the surface, he showed an expression of “finally relieved,” with a hint of shame as if “I know I only got lucky.”
“Thank you, Iruka.”
“You are the most…” Iruka considered his wording, “the student who best understands how to measure their limits that I have ever seen.”
Sato Fan’s heart skipped a beat.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” Iruka waved his hand.
“Go back and wait for the class assignment notification.”
Sato Fan bowed and turned to leave the classroom.
The moment he stepped out the door, he heard Iruka sigh softly.
He felt a bit guilty.
Iruka was a good teacher, serious and responsible with every student.
But he couldn’t help it—he couldn’t let anyone have “expectations” of him.
In the hallway, Ishida was waiting for him.
“How was it?” Ishida asked nervously.
“Passed.”
“Great!” Ishida breathed a sigh of relief.
“I was so close just now, I almost lost control, but luckily I made it at the last second…”
Sato Fan’s mouth twitched.
Was this kind of humblebrag present in every world?
The two walked toward the playground while talking.
When passing the classroom door, Sato Fan saw Naruto squatting alone in the corner, arms hugging his knees, face buried in his knees.
No one paid attention to him.
Sato Fan paused, then walked over.
“Naruto.”
Naruto lifted his head, his eyes red, but he wasn’t crying.
This stubborn kid probably wouldn’t cry in front of anyone.
“Sato…” His voice was a bit hoarse.
“Did you pass?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s good…” Naruto managed a forced smile.
“I didn’t pass.
Iruka said my Clone Technique was no good.”
“What are you going to do then?”
“I don’t know…” Naruto buried his face back into his knees and said gloomily, “Maybe I’ll have to take a make-up exam.
Anyway, I’ll definitely pass!
I’m going to become Hokage, how can I fall here!”
Sato Fan looked at him, a wave of complex emotions surging in his heart.
He wanted to say something, but didn’t know what to say.
He couldn’t tell Naruto, “You’re going to steal the scroll of seals and learn a forbidden technique,” nor could he tell him, “Mizuki is a bad guy.” He knew these things, but he couldn’t say them.
“Good luck.” In the end, he only said those two words.
Naruto lifted his head, looked at him, and then revealed a smile—not the forced smile from before, but a real, grateful smile.
“Yeah!
When I learn a cool Ninjutsu, I’ll show it to you first!”
Sato Fan nodded and turned to walk toward the school gate.
When he reached the edge of the playground, he looked back.
Naruto was still squatting in the corner, but he was no longer hanging his head.
He stood up, patted the dust off his pants, and walked to the other side of the school building.
Standing there was a person—Mizuki, smiling and waving at him.
Sato Fan withdrew his gaze and quickened his pace.
When he walked out of the school gate, the sunset was hanging in the western sky, dyeing the whole street orange-red.
Sato Fan took a deep breath and smelled the aroma of ramen broth—Ichiraku Ramen was not far ahead.
He hesitated for a moment, then walked over.
“Boss, one bowl of miso ramen.”
“Coming right up!”
Sitting in front of the counter, Sato Fan ate the noodles slowly, his mind thinking about what to do next.
Graduated.
A Genin.
Then class assignments, then a Jonin team leader, then missions.
He knew his grades would likely land him in a background character team, assigned to a background Jonin.
This was exactly what he wanted.
But the problem was, in the next few years, one major event after another would happen.
Chunin Exams, Orochimaru’s invasion, Sasuke’s defection, Shippuden, Pain’s assault, the Fourth Great Ninja War.
He had to find a path to live a safe and stable life amidst these events.
“Hiding his true ability” alone wasn’t enough.
He needed more—more resources, more trump cards, more ways to save his life.
And all of this required money.
A Genin’s salary was pitifully low; relying on that money, let alone buying a sealing scroll, wouldn’t even be enough to eat ramen every day.
He had to find a way to make money.
After all, he wasn’t a genius Ninja.
As for the path to becoming stronger, he shouldn’t even think about Ninjutsu for now; good Ninjutsu either came from family heritage or was rewarded by the Village for completing a large number of missions, which didn’t align with his low profile.
Taijutsu had the Eight Gates, but putting aside the intensity of training until you die—which he, a transmigrator from a peaceful era, might not have the willpower for—just those two bowl cuts were very eye-catching.
However, it could be considered an option; after all, Might Guy was such an oddball that even the Third Hokage’s Anbu and Danzo’s Root explicitly refused him.
That left “pay-to-win”…
cough cough, the Ninja Tool Style.
Tenten among the Konoha 12 was a model for this.
In the early stages, she relied on sealing scrolls to carry a large amount of hidden weapons, pure firepower coverage.
Later, she picked up the Sage of Six Paths’ artifacts, and her combat power skyrocketed.
Konan’s 600 billion explosive tags could be called a small nuclear weapon of the Ninja world.
This path was the easiest to replicate, but it was expensive.
The total population of Konoha was about 100,000, and Ninjas only accounted for one-tenth.
During the Allied Shinobi Forces, there were 80,000 Ninjas in total, and Konoha accounted for 15,000 to 20,000.
This definitely included logistical Ninjas, so the source of Ninjas must be in short supply.
After all, it was a profession with a high mortality rate; it was impossible to “go back and redo it” like Kakashi said, that was too extravagant.
Basically, after being sent back by the team leader Jonin, those deemed unable to be trained as combat Ninjas would be arranged to enter medical or administrative departments to serve the Village’s logistics based on personal preferences and specialties.
Medical Ninja work required precise Chakra control and extensive professional knowledge, and crucially, they often needed to cooperate with missions for rescue—pass.
The administrative department was managed by the two Hokage Advisors, Homura Mitokado and Utatane Koharu, the “chief stewards” of Konoha.
Their work included:
· Financial management: Accepting financial appropriations from the Daimyo of the Land of Fire and allocating the Village budget.
· Material procurement: Unified procurement of Ninja tools, food, medicine, and other military supplies.
· Warehouse management: Managing material warehouses and distributing equipment.
· Infrastructure maintenance: Maintenance of buildings and facilities within the Village.
When Pain invaded, those two old guys still needed Tsunade to carry them to a safe location one by one, which showed that their strength wasn’t high.
This was the target template for him!
The two veterans who saw off the Second, Third, and Fourth Hokage and lived safely to the end.
What’s the use of being strong?
Can you live as long as I can?
After finishing the ramen, he paid and walked out of the shop.
The sky had completely darkened, and the streetlights were lighting up one by one.
Back home, his parents had already finished dinner.
Mom was washing dishes in the kitchen, and Dad was sitting in the living room reading the newspaper.
“You’re back?” Sato Michi looked up.
“How was the exam?”
“Passed.”
“Good!” Sato Michi laughed and patted the sofa.
“I knew you could do it!
My son is a Ninja now!”
Sato Umeko poked her head out of the kitchen, her eyes a little red.
“Fan is amazing…”
Sato Fan looked at his parents’ happy expressions, feeling a bit upset.
His parents were the most ordinary civilians in Konoha.
His dad worked at a grocery store in the Village, and his mom helped people mend clothes.
The two worked hard to save money to send him to the Ninja Academy, just hoping he could “succeed.”
“I’m going back to my room,” he said.
“Get some rest early,” Sato Umeko urged.
“You have to go to school tomorrow to check the class assignments.”
“Yeah.”
Back in his room, he closed the door and opened the hidden compartment under the bed.
Seven Kunai, three shuriken, two blank sealing scrolls, one small bag of food pill.
This was his entire savings from the past six years.
Pathetically little.
But he knew this was just the beginning.
Once he was assigned to a logistics position, once he came into contact with the real material system…
He lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
Outside the window, the moon slowly rose, casting a cold, clear light.
Sato Fan closed his eyes, the image of Naruto squatting in the corner flashing through his mind.
That kid was probably going to steal the scroll of seals tonight.
Should he get involved?
That was the scroll of seals, after all; reading just one thing from it would be a huge boost to his strength.
This thought flashed through his mind and was immediately rejected.
He estimated there wouldn’t be few spectators for this big drama.
How could such an important thing as the scroll of seals be stolen by a student who just graduated from the Ninja Academy and a Chunin?
He’d better not get involved in this muddy water.
He said silently in his heart, then drifted off into a dream.
Tomorrow was the day of class assignments.