Ninja Academy, practical class—Transformation Technique.
The classroom was in utter chaos, brimming with noise and excitement.
Poof, poof, poof!
White smoke erupted again and again as a collection of bizarre “results” piled up in front of the podium.
One student tried to transform into a teacup, only to produce a warped lump of clay that looked more like dried mud.
Another aimed for a shuriken, but what appeared resembled a misshapen starfish instead.
“Next—Kakashi Hatake.” The instructor called the name with visible fatigue, having long since given up hope on this batch of so-called “geniuses.” Kakashi walked forward calmly, silver hair catching the light.
His expression remained composed as he formed hand seals with textbook precision.
“Transformation Technique!” Poof!
When the smoke dispersed, a figure identical to the teacher stood in its place—perfect height, hairstyle, posture, even the folds of the clothing were flawless.
“Perfect!” The teacher’s eyes finally lit up.
Without hesitation, he awarded full marks.
The class erupted into cheers.
This was what a genius looked like—everything came effortlessly.
Next was Asuma Sarutobi.
He stepped forward and completed the transformation just as cleanly, even going so far as to casually flick an imaginary beard, earning quiet gasps from Kurenai Yuhi and several of the other girls.
“Next—Ryū.” Ryū’s turn.
He walked up slowly, his face carefully maintaining a trace of lingering melancholy and timidity from his father’s death—perfectly measured and entirely convincing.
Hand seals formed.
Chakra circulated.
Poof!
The smoke cleared, revealing the teacher’s appearance.
But this version had a noticeably thicker waist and slightly puffed cheeks, as if he’d indulged in two extra bowls of ramen late at night—a middle-aged man who had clearly let himself go.
“Pfft—” Laughter burst out across the classroom.
“Chakra control is insufficient.
Keep working,” the teacher said flatly, already accustomed to such results.
Ryū lowered his head in apparent embarrassment and hurried back to his seat, blending seamlessly into the crowd of “poor performers,” unnoticed and unremarkable.
Hidden in the shadows, he listened to the laughter echoing around him, his heart perfectly calm.
Laugh all you want.
The more you think I’m weak, the safer I am.
When night fell over Konoha once more, the daytime disguise faded away—and the lone wolf bared its fangs.
Backyard.
Kazama Ryū shut out all distractions and poured every ounce of focus into a single Ninjutsu.
Transformation Technique.
As a former corporate slave, he understood one truth better than anyone: trying to do everything at once only led to failure.
Instead of spreading himself thin, it was better to concentrate everything into one breakthrough point.
“Transform!” Poof!
Transformation Technique proficiency +5!
With his Chakra depleted, he sat down cross-legged and immediately activated the Chakra Extraction Technique, now at Lv.1.
The recovery speed was clearly faster than before.
The moment his Chakra replenished even slightly, he stood up and threw himself back into training.
Once.
Twice.
Ten times.
A hundred times.
Like a tireless machine, he pushed the cycle of extraction → consumption → extraction to its absolute limit.
Sweat drenched his clothes.
His head throbbed from intense concentration.
Finally—at the darkest moment before dawn—he performed the Transformation Technique once more, nearly draining his last drop of Chakra.
[Ding!] The system’s crisp notification rang out like heavenly music.
Transformation Technique leveled up!
Lv.1 (1/300) A wave of clarity flooded Ryū’s mind.
All the hidden intricacies of the Transformation Technique—the subtle, difficult methods of Chakra manipulation—became instantly clear.
He straightened and formed hand seals again.
“Transform!” The target was still the same teacher from earlier that day.
Poof!
This time, the result was completely different.
Ryū walked over to the water vat in the yard and looked at his reflection under the pale moonlight.
The figure staring back at him was indistinguishable from the teacher in his memory.
No—if anything, it was even more vivid.
The faintly furrowed brow formed by years of dealing with underperforming students.
The subtle wrinkles at the corners of the eyes, carved by time.
Even the barely perceptible exhaustion and resignation unique to a middle-aged man.
Everything was reproduced perfectly.
“This…” Ryū stared in disbelief.
This was no longer simple imitation.
This was replication.
A Lv.1 Transformation Technique possessed this level of terrifying detail and expressiveness!
Having tasted success, Ryū went all in.
Over the following weeks, he used the same method to conquer the other two basic techniques.
Clone Technique leveled up!
Lv.1 (1/300) Poof!
The clone beside him was no longer a blurry phantom that vanished at a touch.
It was solid enough to stand on its own for over ten seconds.
Substitution Technique leveled up!
Lv.1 (1/300) Practicing against a wooden post, the moment he activated the technique in his mind, his body swapped places with it so fast that only an afterimage remained.
What once took nearly a full second of reaction time was now compressed to less than half a second.
Late into the night.
Ryū stood before a mirror, staring at his own reflection—still young, yet carrying an unshakable resolve in his eyes.
Only now did he truly understand one thing.
Who said E-rank Ninjutsu was trash?
That was only because no one had ever pushed these fundamentals to their limit.
A perfected E-rank technique was no longer just E-rank.
They were god-tier skills—the lowest cost, the fastest cooldowns, and the greatest potential to create miracles.
A bold—perhaps even arrogant—idea slowly took shape in his mind.
What he possessed now was invisible potential.
But in this world, potential meant nothing.
He needed an opportunity.
A stage.
A way to turn these despised “basics” into something visible, tangible… into real currency.
Something that would force Konoha to take him seriously.