"Crafty little gremlin," Ren deadpanned, giving Kurenai a flat look. "Do I look that gullible to you?"
Her tactical gambit was sound, he had to admit. But he'd just coaxed a wisp of chakra into existence. What could he possibly do with it? Victory was the probable outcome, but the humiliation of even a remote chance of losing to a six-year-old was unthinkable. Being bested by a little girl would be a more profound indignity than losing to a monkey.
However, just as he opened his mouth to deliver a firm refusal, the familiar, sterile chime resonated in his mind.
[Ding. As the future sovereign destined to govern the Three Realms, your legendary path will be paved with challenges. The Host must not shrink from any contest, from any Soul Reaper who dares stand in your way!]
[Mission Issued: Defeat the challenger, Ochiai Rumi.]
[Mission Reward: Bakudō #1: Sai (Restraint)!]
Ren: "…"
Good news: the system is generating missions.Bad news: the system's database is a scrambled, cross-dimensional mess.
Who the hell is Ochiai Rumi?
He had no idea… though, given that the system equated the Ninja Academy with the Shino Academy and Kurenai with… whatever this was, it was probably some minor, forgettable character from the Bleach roster. The system was clearly pattern-matching based on the most superficial parallels: 'young female academy student' = 'Ochiai Rumi.'
Shrugging off the irrelevant name, Ren executed a flawless conversational pivot, as if his previous reluctance had never existed. "Then again…" he began, his tone shifting to one of magnanimous consideration. He looked at Kurenai with an expression of grave fairness. "Uncle Shinku said refining chakra in a few days marks a genius. I did it in ten seconds. By that metric, I'm a genius among geniuses."
"If I delay too long, it really would be an unfair disadvantage to Kurenai. She might even accuse me of stalling to avoid the fight. So, I accept! We spar tonight!"
Well, when the system dangled a carrot—even a small, first-level kido carrot—could he really say no? A tiny little girl, however ridiculous. So what if she had a six-month head start? She was still, fundamentally, a tiny little girl.
He could handle this.
"Really?!" Kurenai didn't care about his condescending tone. The priority was locking in the match. She placed her hands on her hips, striking a deal-sealing pose. "Then it's settled! No backing out! Father, you're the witness!"
Shinku glanced at Ren, a knowing smile playing on his lips, and gave a slow nod. "Very well. I shall officiate."
Ren reached over and ruffled Kurenai's hair, a patronizing gesture. "Just accept your role as the cute imouto, Kurenai. Your big brother will look after you."
Kurenai slapped his hand away with a smack. "Hmph! It's not decided yet! We'll see!"
xXx
Afternoon.
The post-lunch hours found Ren back in the quiet of the backyard, seated cross-legged on the sun-warmed grass. He was diligently cycling the nascent energy within him, feeling the thin but steady stream of chakra replenish and slowly expand his reserves.
'As expected,' he mused internally, stroking his chin. 'Talent is just the entry ticket. It determines your ceiling, not your starting floor. Realizing that potential requires time and grinding. I might have a faster engine, but the fuel tank is still small.'
His extraction speed, fueled by his enhanced aptitude, was undeniably rapid. However, his young body had its limits, and this was his first day actively cultivating. The total volume of chakra he could hold and generate was… paltry. He estimated it wouldn't be enough to perform even the most basic E-rank ninjutsu a single time.
'My body needs to adapt and grow,' he concluded. 'In the original story, Kakashi graduated at five with genuine genin-level capacity. He couldn't have had this little. It's a developmental bottleneck.'
The realization was grounding, not discouraging. The system was active and its rewards tangible—that was the monumental win. He hadn't expected it to catapult him to godhood overnight. The very name, Achievement: Spirit King System, implied a journey, a step-by-step ascension. It wouldn't hand him invincibility; it would provide the tools to build it.
His thoughts now turned to the practical matter at hand: securing victory in tonight's spar.
This was non-negotiable. The psychic damage of calling a six-year-old 'nee-chan' was too horrific to contemplate.
Over the past two months, he'd observed Kurenai's routine. Shinku hadn't taught her any ninjutsu or formal combat taijutsu katas. Her training focused on age-appropriate physical conditioning and chakra accumulation—laying a solid, if unspectacular, foundation.
Therefore, her advantages were clear: superior chakra volume and slightly better physical conditioning due to her longer, more consistent training.
But they were also her only advantages.
She lacked any technical skills to leverage that superior energy or strength effectively.
Ren, on the other hand, had a few cards to play. Boredom in his previous life had led him to a local martial arts dojo for a year. He was no Bruce Lee, but he understood basic principles of balance, leverage, and striking. More crucially, he possessed an intuitive, fine-grained control over his chakra from the moment of its birth.
This round was winnable. He just had to be smart about it.
Just then, Shinku approached, leaning against the doorframe with an amused expression. "I've never seen you apply yourself so diligently. A commendable change, but remember: moderation. You've only just begun. Overtaxing your nascent chakra network can cause more harm than good."
Ren spread his hands innocently. "I can't very well lose to Kurenai, can I? As her esteemed older brother, I have a reputation to uphold."
"Then why agree to spar her tonight?" Shinku countered, a teasing glint in his eye. "She's in her room right now, plotting your defeat with terrifying seriousness."
"Pressure fosters growth," Ren stated sagely. "It's motivational for her. Strategic for me."
Shinku chuckled. "I'd actually pay to see you lose and have to call her 'nee-chan.' The spectacle would be priceless."
Ren's eye twitched. "The probability of that is statistically negligible."
Pausing, Ren decided to probe for an edge. "Speaking of which, Uncle Shinku, I had a thought about chakra application. I wanted to see if it's feasible."
"Oh?" Shinku's eyebrows rose with interest. "What's your idea?"
"Besides shaping it into ninjutsu," Ren began, "chakra should be usable as a direct force amplifier, right? For instance, upon impact during a strike, if you instantaneously release a burst of chakra from the specific point of contact… could it dramatically increase the power?"
Shinku's expression shifted from curiosity to genuine surprise. "You conceived of this yourself?"
It was, of course, possible. Tsunade-hime, one of the Legendary Sannin, had perfected this very art into her monstrously powerful Senjutsu: Chakra Enhanced Strength. For a child to independently theorize this application was… remarkable.
Ren nodded with fabricated nonchalance. "A sudden flash of insight, I suppose."
It was, of course, stolen knowledge. As a transmigrator, his "imagination" was conveniently stocked with concepts proven viable in the source material. Both Tsunade's destructive strikes and the Hyūga's gentle fist relied on this principle, differing only in the chakra's intent—external concussive force versus internal disruption.
The reason he asked was that his own fumbling attempts had yielded pathetic results—little more than a faint tingle. He was hoping for a nugget of actionable advice from the jōnin, a hint to bridge the gap between theory and practice. Mastering even a crude version of this could seal his victory tonight. Ren believed in leaving nothing to chance.
'This boy… he really is a once-in-a-generation find,' Shinku thought, taking a moment to process it. He nodded slowly. "It is not only possible, it is the foundation of a highly advanced combat style. Lady Tsunade's legendary strength is built upon that precise technique."
"However," he cautioned, his tone turning serious, "executing it is exceedingly difficult. It demands perfect chakra control, split-second timing, and the precise modulation of output. It is a skill even I have not mastered."
Knowing the theory and wielding the practice were universes apart. It was like the Rasengan. The principle was simple: form chakra in your palm, spin it in multiple directions simultaneously, and compress it into a dense, rotating sphere. Sounded easy. Yet without a teacher, you could practice for years and produce nothing but a faint glow and a sore hand.