1: Crossing Worlds Just by Sleeping
(The protagonist is male, CP Uchiha Madara. Those who wandered in by mistake, please stop losses in time. Thank you.)
Masahiro rubbed his eyes. The little white-haired girl on the desk, flashing a peace sign, was looking at him with a playful smile.
The scene he had just witnessed felt like an illusion.
Was it really an illusion?
He swore that Paimon's eyes had really moved just now. If he was lying, his guaranteed small pity roll would be ruined!
But after staring until his eyes were sore and tearing up, Masahiro reluctantly confirmed that it had indeed been an illusion.
"Maybe I've been working too much overtime recently."
Masahiro habitually double-clicked the Paimon icon. Normally, he would stop playing if he encountered something this strange, but he couldn't now. He still had over a hundred days left on his employment contract, so he had to keep playing, even through tears.
Just then, a few risk warnings popped up on the screen as usual, as if everything was normal.
Subsequently, a long, ethereal female chant emanated from the screen, and several floating, broken cylindrical stone pillars slowly appeared, followed by a marble floating bridge that continuously extended forward.
Until a semi-circular archway appeared at the end of the bridge.
Masahiro impatiently clicked on the door. A sudden burst of blinding white light exploded, and he lost consciousness.
Cold, shaking---well, no.
Masahiro slowly opened his eyes and looked at the familiar, old wooden ceiling, sighing silently.
The Tatami mat beneath him was hard and prickly; the terrible sensation constantly reminded him that he was no longer on Earth.
All told, this was Masahiro's sixth year in the Naruto World, the reason for his transmigration still unknown.
He only remembered that after finishing work that day, he dragged his exhausted body home, quickly took a shower, and prepared to force himself to quickly complete the allogene daily tasks before sleeping.
Unexpectedly, he fainted just as he opened the game.
When he opened his eyes again, he had replaced the owner of this body and became Hagoromo Masahiro, an ordinary war orphan in the Naruto World.
Bang, bang, bang.
Suddenly, a knock on the door interrupted Masahiro's memories: "Masahiro, if you don't get up soon, you'll be late! Today is the first day of Clan Academy."
Late? Clan Academy? Ah, there was such a thing.
Masahiro rubbed his cheeks, trying to wake himself up.
The Clan Academy mentioned by the person outside was roughly equivalent to the Ninja Academy in the original work, established by the clan specifically to provide Ninjutsu enlightenment for children of the appropriate age.
Today was exactly the day he became eligible. He had overslept because he was so excited about finally getting to learn the miraculous Ninjutsu that he hadn't fallen asleep until early morning.
While thinking about various random things, Masahiro quickly got dressed and washed up.
The voice outside the door sounded again: "How much longer?"
"Coming, coming, don't rush me."
Hagoromo Takashi had been waiting outside the door for a long time. Looking at the unhurried Masahiro, he sighed and said, "Zensuke said he wants to rest today and go to Clan Academy tomorrow."
"Alright, let's go see him tonight."
Takashi nodded: "Yes, he listens to you. You need to find a way to make him—"
Masahiro's eyes darkened. He waved his hand, interrupting Takashi: "I know. Leave this matter to me."
The morning sun gently shone on the two of them. Although their bodies felt warm, their hearts were heavy.
Because today was the seventh day of Zensuke's father's passing.
To put it inappropriately, Hagoromo Zensuke, Hagoromo Takashi, and Hagoromo masahiro combined couldn't make up a single complete set of parents.
Hagoromo Zensuke was slightly better off; although his mother had died of illness long ago, at least his father was still alive.
But Takashi and Masahiro were the same—they had been orphans since they could remember. Although they received relief funds from the clan, they were growing and desperately needed nutrition, and that little money was far from enough.
So Zensuke's father often invited them to eat together. It wasn't extravagant, but the nutrition was barely sufficient. Therefore, although the three of them were physically thin, none of them were short.
When bored, the three of them would play Ninja games together. Although life was tough, it was manageable.
Until seven days ago, when the clan's Ninja brought back the corpse of Zensuke's father. The Ninja said that Zensuke's father had died on the battlefield fighting the Shimura Clan.
Masahiro clearly remembered that on the day of the burial, Zensuke hugged his father's cold body and cried until his voice was hoarse.
Since that day, whenever he was awake, Zensuke would sit blankly in their cold house, staring at his father's portrait, neither crying nor causing trouble, sitting there for the entire day.
Every day, Masahiro and Takashi had to force him to eat a little food.
"Takashi, I always feel that I came into this world bearing a certain historical mission."
Otherwise, why would he be the one to cross worlds among so many people on earth?
In his previous life, when Masahiro watched anime, he always felt that the dreams of Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara were too naive. With such immense power, why did they constantly dream of world peace?
If that power were given to him, he would prioritize satisfying his own selfish desires. After all, wasn't the point of training desperately to make one's own life better?
He maintained this thought until seven days ago.
It wasn't until he saw Zensuke's grief after losing his father that he truly realized how desperate this Sengoku Era, where human lives were cheaper than grass, must be for ordinary people!
Masahiro stopped walking, grabbed Takashi's shoulders, and his bright, crimson eyes shone with unwavering determination: "I didn't know what that mission was before, but now I do."
Takashi stared blankly at Masahiro: "What is it?"
The morning sun gently shone on Masahiro, illuminating his face with unusual clarity, yet also casting a soft glow. His skin, smooth and fair like silk, dazzled the eye in the sunlight.
"My mission must be to end this chaotic era!"
Even if his talent was mediocre and he might never even reach the rank of Jonin in his lifetime, he would still try his best to change this world!
Besides, he still had a system!
It was just that the system loading screen had been stuck on the final golden diamond block for six years.
Masahiro, speaking these words, appeared even more dazzling than the morning sun in Takashi's eyes.
Takashi composed himself, a smile curving on his lips: "Okay, I believe you!"
————
Looking down from the sky, the Hagoromo Clan's territory was a massive circular area surrounded by high walls.
In the center of the circle stood a very conspicuous four-story tower. That was the Mission Center, where the clan's high-ranking officials usually worked, making it the heart of the Hagoromo Clan.
Concentric rings of detached Japanese-style houses, including many luxurious residences with courtyards, spread out from this tower.
Therefore, the closer one was to the tower, the more exquisite and spacious the houses were, and the higher the status of the residents.
People of Masahiro and Takashi's status lived in the remote areas near the outer high walls.
And the Clan Academy they were heading to was also in the remote area because it required a lot of open space. Thus, the two arrived at the Clan Academy grounds in just fifteen minutes.
At this moment, dozens of young-faced children were scattered across the open training ground. Not far from them stood a scruffy-bearded uncle.
Seeing Masahiro and Takashi approach, the uncle slightly raised his chin, signaling them to quickly go and stand properly.
"I am Hagoromo Jūzaburō. Starting today, I will be your Ninjutsu enlightenment teacher."
Hagoromo Jūzaburō wore a grayish-white clan robe, his arms crossed over his chest, and his stern gaze scrutinized everyone present:
"I know some of you have already done some basic Ninja training with your elders, and some have even managed to extract Chakra."
Before Hagoromo Jūzaburō could finish speaking, the children began whispering amongst themselves, seemingly curious about which peer had progressed so quickly.
"Huh? Who is Teacher Jūzaburō talking about?"
"I don't know, it's definitely not me."
"Although my father taught me how to extract Chakra, I haven't succeeded yet."
Masahiro, meanwhile, was silently observing the expressions of the children present.
Children of this age generally don't have deep reserves of cunning; in a situation where everyone is envious, they shouldn't be able to hide their emotions.
Sure enough, Masahiro quickly spotted a child among the group of young faces who was not only tall and big but also had an unmissable and unconcealed arrogance on his face.
.
.
.