Morning in the Akimichi quarter always had a specific smell. It was a mixture of burnt fat, heavy meat broths, and wood smoke. For any other child of the clan, this smell was a symbol of comfort and coming strength. For me, it was a reminder that I was inside a system that architecturally rejected my existence.
I sat on the floor of my room, surrounded by disassembled elements of standard shinobi gear. A familiar system menu hovered before my eyes, dimming and flickering in the pre-dawn twilight.
[CURRENT HOST STATUS] Glycogen: 92% (Stable). Muscle Tone: High (Gravity adaptation complete). WARNING: Deficit of specialized proteins for bone tissue reinforcement detected. Current skeletal density does not match muscle output power. Forecast: Maximum effort may cause tendon avulsion from the periosteum.
"So, I'm a high-powered processor in a plastic case," I whispered, tightening a bolt on a modified kunai mount. "Okay, System. We'll fix that as soon as we get some real resources."
Engineering Survival
In my past life, I hated bad design. When a button wasn't where the finger expected it to be, or when a system required ten clicks instead of one—it drove me insane. Konoha's shinobi gear was the apotheosis of bad design, stuck in the Middle Ages.
The standard Akimichi pouch was a huge leather sack. Everything was thrown in a pile: scrolls, bandages, kunai, dried meat. To get the right item in the heat of battle, a shinobi spent 1.5 to 3 seconds. In a world where Gaara kills with a glance and Minato moves faster than thought, three seconds is an eternity.
I completely rebuilt my pouch. Now it was a rigid modular construction made of lacquered wood and leather, divided into sections.
Magnetic Guides:Kunai were no longer just lying there; they were fixed. With a light press of the pinky on a lever, a spring pushed the handle directly into the palm.
Quick Feed System (UX Optimization): Scrolls were arranged vertically, color-coded. Red for explosion, blue for smoke, black for storage.
Weight Balancing: I moved the pouch closer to the sacrum so as not to disturb the center of gravity during jumps.
"Now it works," I ran my finger along the edge of a kunai.
A standard kunai had a diamond-shaped cross-section and questionable aerodynamics. I spent three nights grinding away extra microns of metal, giving the blade a "wing" profile. Now, when thrown, it didn't just fly; it stabilized itself through the oncoming airflow.
[SYSTEM]: Object: Modified Kunai (Type: Needle). Throwing Efficiency: +18% accuracy. Penetration Power: +12% (Due to reduced air resistance). Comment: Congratulations, you've reinvented the wheel in a world where everyone still rides on square ones.
Training Ground №4: Conflict of Philosophies
When I reached the training ground, the sun was already starting to bake. Choza Akimichi was the center of attention. Surrounded by other clan children, he was demonstrating "The Tank." His body expanded into a massive sphere, and with a dull roar, he swept through a row of wooden posts, turning them into splinters.
"Power!" the children shouted. "That's some strength, Choza! You're a real Akimichi!"
I stood in the shade of an old oak, arms crossed. In my eyes, this wasn't power. It was chaos. An uncontrolled burst of energy, most of which was wasted as heat and sound. The efficiency of this technique was barely 30%. The rest was just flashy noise.
"Oh, Kaien! Come to see a real technique?" Choza deflated, breathing heavily. A wide, good-natured smile shone on his face. "Listen, father said today is our sparring match. Are you sure? You look like... well, like you could be snapped with a finger."
"Breaking something is a question of the applied vector, Choza," I stepped into the center of the circle. "Your 'Tank' is impressive, but it's like trying to drive a nail with a sledgehammer. You waste too much fuel on redundant damage area."
Choza blinked. My words were just noise to him. He was used to Akimichis being mountains of meat. The bigger the mountain, the better.
"Alright, theorist," he smirked, taking a stance. "Let's test your 'physics' in action."
Hitoshi, the Chunin instructor, stepped forward. He looked at me with undisguised disappointment. "Sparring to three touches or admission of defeat. Expansion techniques allowed. Begin!"
Choza didn't waste time. "Partial Expansion Jutsu: Arm!"
His right forearm instantly swelled to the size of a barrel. He swung, and this massive hammer of flesh came crashing down on me.
[SYSTEM: COMBAT MODE ACTIVATED] Target Analysis: Choza Akimichi. Attack Speed: 14 m/s. Design Flaw: Pelvic tilt 7 degrees to the right. The whole structure rests on the left ankle. Recommendation: Do not block. Counterattack the tension node.
I didn't jump back. I took a short, calculated step forward and to the left. Directly under the swing. His elbow was right in front of me. At that moment of expansion, his joint was at its most vulnerable—chakra was stretching the tendons to the limit, turning them into tight strings.
I struck. Not with a fist, but with the heel of my palm, concentrating all my effort into one point.
Pop.
The sound was like a vacuum collapsing. I hit the exact nerve bundle and chakra exhaust point. Choza's system glitched. The energy flow that was supposed to maintain the expansion looped back and hit him internally.
"Gah!" Choza cried out. His massive arm instantly "deflated," and the sudden pressure drop in his vessels yanked him forward. He lost his balance. His huge mass, once his pride, became his enemy.
I didn't stop. As he tumbled forward, I jammed my knee under his thigh and yanked his shirt collar down simultaneously.
Boom.
Choza faceplanted into the dust of the training ground. A cloud of sand rose. The silence was absolute.
"That's one," I said calmly, stepping back. "Choza, your expansion creates massive torque, but your joints lack the structural rigidity to hold it. You're like a glass cannon."
The Verdict
Hitoshi the Chunin finally snapped out of it. He rushed to help Choza. "Kaien Akimichi!" a deep, low bass boomed.
I turned. Torifu Akimichi, the Clan Head, stood at the entrance. He was so massive it seemed the very space around him warped under the weight of his chakra. "To my office. Now," he barked.
In his office, Torifu looked at me for a long time. "The Clan Council is displeased with you, Kaien. Your existence challenges our traditions. They say you are 'defective.' That your body won't survive real battles because you have no reserve."
"Their reserves make them slow. My speed allows me to finish the fight before exhaustion sets in."
"And if it doesn't?" Torifu leaned forward. He threw a mission scroll onto the table. "Tomorrow, a resource-gathering team is heading to the Forest of Death. You will join them. If you are as good at optimization as you say, you will survive and bring us the resources. If not... then the nature will correct the mistake."
[SYSTEM]: New Quest: "First Audit of Nature." Goal: Collect 300 BP in the Forest of Death. Reward: Full unlock of [GLUTTONY].
"I accept the mission," I took the scroll.
I looked at my palm. Soon, it would become my main tool. Not for drawing blueprints, but for deconstructing this world. Konoha thought I was a "kernel error." They didn't realize that when a system produces an error that can't be fixed, it spawns a new process. And this process will consume all the old hardware.