Power Stone Goals from now on: I always post a minimum of 5 chapters. Henceforth this are the goals:
Every 200 powerstones, I upload an extra chapters.
If we hit top 30 in the 30-90 days power stone rankings, thats 1 more chapter
If we hit top 10 in the 30-90 days power stone rankings, thats 1 more chapter
If we are top 5...well lets get to that first. Happy readings!
Chapter 62: Soon.
Two weeks.
That's how long it had been since I "died."
Officially, Shikomu Senju no longer existed. The village's records listed me as dead, a casualty of the early war.
In reality, I was very much alive—buried deep in Anbu operations under Naido's direct command.
Our missions were brutal.
Every few nights, we struck against the Hidden Mist. Targeted assassinations, silent sabotage, ambushes on supply lines.
Well trained Chunin squads—dozens at a time, armed with silent killing techniques and merciless precision.
The first squad we ambushed had six Chunin. I remember them because they never even saw us.
My Wood Release snapped out of the ground like fangs, dragging them underground before they could scream.
My Squad didn't even see what had happened, since I had moved ahead of them to try out using Wood-Style…
Another squad managed to resist longer, using thick mist to cover their retreat. They didn't make it far.
Each mission was a step closer to making sure Konoha's walls stayed intact.
But the fighting wasn't the only thing I cared about. Every scrap of spare time was spent training.
In the silence of hidden clearings and underground bases, I worked on Fuinjutsu.
Scrolls, tags, ink-stained hands—this was my second life now.
Inside me, Matatabi slumbered—or pretended to.
The giant two-tailed beast said little, but I could feel her chakra leaking into my own coils every time I drew on power too recklessly.
Some nights, I'd sit still for hours, dragging strands of her volatile chakra into seals drawn across my arms and chest.
Each success made me stronger.
Each failure burned like fire under my skin.
But pain was irrelevant.
This was regarding survival, probably for my entire world.
Occasionally, I entered my Inner World—standing before the endless ocean of Matatabi's fire—and spoke to her.
She rarely answered.
Yoru, my ever-watchful black cat companion, found me during these rare pauses.
She'd curl around my ankles or bat at my training supplies with disinterest.
ometimes, she offered advice.
More often, snarky comments about how my "monk training" was making me too bored. She did also want to meet her 'Cat Ancestor,' but I didn't know how to bring Yoru into my mindscape just yet.
It was nice having someone to listen to, even if that someone complained like an old woman.
And when all the training, all the meditation, all the seal work was done, I would retreat deep into Konoha's hidden forests—
—where Nature answered only to me.
There, under thick canopies of untouched green, I unleashed my true weapon.
Every new jutsu I trained—every tree grown from chakra and will—was a step toward me gaining power.
…
Tenz knocked sharply against the battered door of my room deep inside Anbu headquarters, I knew something serious was happening.
They didn't call the dead back to life unless they needed something.
"Come," he ordered simply.
I slipped on my mask, followed him through the twisted underground halls I knew too well, and ended up... back where it had all started.
Except this time, when I entered my quarters, someone unexpected was waiting for me.
Tsunade Senju.
She leaned casually against my desk, arms crossed, golden hair falling over her shoulders in soft waves that somehow made her look both regal and dangerous.
"Hi... cousin? I don't know what you would be since we are unaware of your parents, so we cannot determine your generation..." she said lightly, though there was an undercurrent of curiosity in her voice.
I gave a small smirk, tilting my head.
"Cousin is fine for now," I replied, a teasing lilt in my voice. "Don't want to be calling someone who looks as young as you 'aunty' just yet."
That drew a sharp bark of laughter from her, the heavy mood lifting in an instant. She ruffled her hair a bit as if to hide her pleased smile.
And just like that, something incredible fell into my lap without me even trying.
Tsunade, the last proud heir of the Senju, saw me not as a tool, or a liability.
She saw me as family.
A bridge I hadn't expected to find.
Maybe it was selfish, but I wasn't going to waste the opportunity.
We sat down—or rather, I perched against the edge of the bed while she dragged my only chair closer—and for the first time in my new life here, I actually had a proper conversation with another Senju.
It wasn't all heartfelt reunions though. I wasn't an idiot.
I asked—subtly at first, then more bluntly—about access to the Senju Clan's restricted scrolls.
Specifically, the Fuinjutsu scrolls.The Senju were related to the Uzamaki who were simply broken in the Sealing Arts.
I expected at least a token resistance, some political back-and-forth about privilege or readiness.
Instead, Tsunade just waved a hand casually.
"I'll arrange it," she said simply. "You've earned it more than most idiots running around outside."
I swear, I almost fell off the bed.
I thanked her properly, of course. Didn't want her to start thinking I was too cocky.
But in my mind, plans were already spinning at a thousand miles per second.
That wasn't the only thing that landed in my lap today.
When Tsunade left—promising to send the scrolls through a trusted courier—I checked my system panel.
A new tab had been unlocked.
Contribution Points inside the Anbu Quarters.
Apparently, every successful mission, every target neutralized, every scroll returned, every fragment of intelligence retrieved—it all counted.
And I had stacked quite a bit without even knowing it.
Contribution Points could be traded for items, restricted jutsu, chakra-enhancing medicines, even unique crafting materials.
But when I looked over the available items…
Almost everything I chose went straight back into Fuinjutsu supplies.
Sealing inks, chakra-sensitive brushes, rare chakra threads—things no one else cared about because they didn't blow up buildings or set fields on fire.
Fuinjutsu was a gluttonous profession.
A black hole that devoured both time and money.
And I was neck-deep already.
Still, no regrets. I had a plan after all.
…
Two months since the war had started.
Outside, the killing field raged hotter than ever.
Whole squads of professional players—real humans behind the screens—had finally clawed their way to Peak-Chunin levelsNaruto Online.
It was insane.
EXP rates had skyrocketed because of the bloodbath.
Villages were constantly at war, quests flooded with assassination orders, siege missions, infiltration ops.
The strong grew stronger by stacking corpses under their feet.
The weak... Well, they logged off.
I was technically ahead of the curve—way ahead.
Between my bloodlines, my specialized training, my Wood Release mastery, my Anbu assignments—I had advantages normal players could only dream of.
And yet... even I struggled now.
My EXP bar was a monster.
It demanded dozens, sometimes hundreds of missions to inch forward.
The higher my stats climbed, the heavier the climb became.
It didn't matter that I could destroy squads of enemy Chunin with Wood Release now.
The system didn't reward overkill.
It demanded more.
I couldn't even imagine what casual players were feeling.
No—scratch that.
They weren't feeling anything anymore.
They were giving up and playing the game as business men and simply enjoying life…I wouldn't blame them if they were in conditions like I used to be in.
There was no way a casual player could survive long enough to even touch mid-Chunin level now.
And Peak-Chunin?
Forget it.
Not unless they sold their souls to a guild, or took contracts doing the absolute worst missions for dirty EXP scraps.
I didn't know how to fix it either.
Grinding mindlessly would just burn me out.
But waiting patiently?
Letting other players surpass me?
There wasn't much I could do about the situation right now.
Every day that passed, I could feel it — the invisible walls tightening around me.
I knew Danzo was digging.The Body of the Jincuriki disappeared and he didn't know how the Council had reacted yet.
But they must have flipped like crazy.
But my chance was coming.
And a month later... it finally came.
It had been almost 1.5 months since I first donned the mask and stepped into the black corridors of the Anbu.
Nearly every mission I accepted was an elimination op.
I built trust.
Mission after mission, body after body.
I had become the perfect weapon they needed.
Which meant... It was also time to break that trust.
Because I had finally achieved my first goals.
…
Inside my cramped Anbu quarters, the knock on my door was softer than usual. I didn't even have to ask who it was.
The chakra signature alone told me everything.
"Come in," I said.
Tsunade entered, casual as you like, carrying a thick scroll under one arm and a smaller, worn one in the other.
"Here, cousin," she said, tossing the larger one toward me.
I caught it easily, but my mind had already jumped ahead.
The title was burned into the scroll cover:
Theory of the Strength of a Hundred Seal.
I stared at her.
Before I could even thank her, she shoved the smaller scroll against my chest.
"And this too," she added, almost lazily.
"Some of the Uzumaki bloodline stuff you were curious about. And...," she grinned, "an S-rank Hashirama Wood Style technique."
I blinked.
"I just asked about it casually," I muttered.
Tsunade laughed, genuinely amused.
"And you thought I wouldn't deliver?"
I couldn't help the small sigh that escaped.
This... felt too easy.
Way too easy.
A growing, gnawing guilt started chewing at the edge of my stomach.
I was manipulating her kindness — even if not directly.
She trusted me. Saw me as family.
And here I was, plotting my escape routes.
Still... I wasn't going to waste the opportunity.
Not when I knew Danzo's grip was tightening by the day.
Every mission, every step outside the village, I felt it.
Stronger shadows following me.
Chakra signatures that didn't quite belong to my assigned squads.
Elite-Jonin, every single time.
I hadn't fully unlocked the abilities of my Uzumaki bloodline yet, but even a little glimpse with their sensory prowess made it obvious.
They were tracking me.
They were waiting for me to slip.
Waiting for me to give them an excuse.
And today... whichever unfortunate soul they sent after me would die.
I had decided that long ago.
…
I stored the scrolls carefully inside my personal seal array — invisible to the naked eye, layered into the threads of my Anbu uniform.
And I prepared.
Methodically.
Because today wasn't just another elimination mission.
Today was a declaration of independence.
I strapped on the standard Anbu gear, tucked the wooden mask into place, and slipped into the dark alleys of Konoha.
I didn't need an escort.
But one was assigned anyway.
Even if they masked their chakra down to nothing, I could feel it.
Trailing me like a ghost.
Close enough to strike me down at a moment's notice.
The mission itself was simple.
A rogue Chunin group from Hidden Mist was setting up hidden relay points in the forests near the border.
Destroy the relay.
Eliminate witnesses.
The kind of mission I'd completed a dozen times already…and my team was already waiting for me at the exit of where we were going to move to.
Except today, the Mist Ninja weren't the real threat.
It was the Leaf ninja behind me.
...
Authors note:
You can read some chapters ahead if you want to on my p#treon.com/Fat_Cultivator