The next few days passed quicker than expected.
Arthur couldn't afford to appear rusty or underestimate his opponents, even the ones he deemed weaker. So he had diligently practiced for the upcoming tournament, training alone to perfect his basic skills.
This also involved him refining his other techniques.
He focused heavily on perfecting the chakra flow required to execute stronger ninjutsu and escape illusions. He also spent hours practicing hand signs and meditating, learning the intricate flow of natural energy within his own body.
Throughout that time, no one was aware of his true acts.
On his last night, as he sat cross-legged under the shade of a large oak tree, concentrating on a complex natural energy flow pattern, a thought struck him.
'The curse mark…'
Alex had mentioned trying to convert Orochimaru's chakra and make it his own. If Arthur could learn how to do that with other people's chakras, would he be able to orchestrate something new with the Reanimation technique?
The possibility seemed plausible, but not something that could help him grow in power immediately.
When he stood up, he let the black sclera fade from his eyes. He still had a lot to learn, as well as a lot of dangerous options to consider. But one thing was certain: he was still going to destroy this village one day.
His need for vengeance hadn't consumed him because, somewhere in the light, he would return to his home on earth.
Allies, even unlikely ones, might cross him, but he mused that perhaps more broken bridges would form and test whatever bonds of friendship they all thought they could withstand.
Arthur soon crept through the deserted streets. His destination this time was a place far beyond the village walls: the Fire Temple.
The Fire Temple was in the Land of Fire, a renowned ninja monastery overflowing with nature. Led by Chiriku, the temple itself housed ninja monks who trained in the Gift of the Hermit Group.
Arthur sought to harness their special chakra at their grounds.
The grounds themselves were known for their impregnable, sealed iron walls, breached only twice before the Akatsuki's devastating attack that will destroy the temple and kill most of its inhabitants three years from now.
On Arthur's person was a worn-out map in his bag with its exact location.
Just as he turned a corner, a figure materialized from the shadows. Jada, bathed in the soft glow of a nearby lamppost, stood there with a wide grin on her face.
"Arthur!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing out so late?"
Arthur's heart almost pounded. Where had she come from? Or rather, why was she, of all people, awake at this hour? He should have just snuck out in his smoke form.
"Jada," he said, trying not to sound irritated. "What a surprise."
Before he could explain himself, Jada gave him a sudden hug. He stiffened momentarily but found himself reciprocating the embrace so as not to seem odd.
It had been a while since he felt the warmth and embrace of another person. There was Koko, but her fur didn't compare to a woman's soft touch.
"Arthur!" she announced, pulling back a little. "You're really cold!"
It had been weeks since he'd seen her. Her eyes brightened as she said, "Sorry I haven't come by sooner. Marge and I have been training intensely for the finals."
Arthur vaguely nodded, thinking quickly for a plausible explanation for his midnight excursion. "That makes sense, I guess."
"You guess? Haha." Jada's smile faltered slightly. "Everything okay? You seem a little tense."
Since when did she become proficient at reading people?
He forced a smile. "Everything's fine. Just getting prepped for the tournament myself."
She looked a tad doubtful, but she didn't press the issue. "Well, you'd better get some rest then." Those matches in the finals aren't gonna be like what we remembered."
"Probably," he agreed, offering a noncommittal reply.
Jada's gaze seemed to linger on him for a beat longer. But then, her smile returned. "How about we hang out sometime before the finals? Maybe grab some ramen at Ichiraku's? You know you're like the only one who hasn't tried it with me yet."
Arthur found himself considering it. There was a part of him that craved normalcy. It felt like a lifeline, a fragile connection to his time on earth.
"Sure," he finally agreed, surprising even himself. In hindsight, it was really just to gauge her advancement. "We could do that."
Jada's smile widened, genuine and warm. "Great! Then let's make it a plan. See you around, okay?"
With a final wave, she disappeared back into the night, leaving him standing alone. He watched her go, aware that his carefully constructed plan to leave for the Fire Temple had been thrown into disarray.
He couldn't risk going now that Jada had seen him here. So he decided to stroll home instead.
The next day.
Arthur found himself gazing out at the marketplace alongside Jada. She bounced from stall to stall as her eyes sparkled with excitement. Then she stopped at a stall overflowing with hand-painted masks, picking up a vibrant dog mask and holding it playfully against her face.
"Look, Arthur!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with childish glee. "Doesn't this remind you of Kakashi-sensei?"
Arthur faked a chuckle. "Haha. It kinda does if you cover the bottom half."
As the laughter settled, she placed the mask back on the stall.
"Hey, Arthur," she began, her voice softening. "I wanted to thank you."
"Thank me for what exactly?"
"For helping me awaken the Sharingan… I know it wouldn't have happened without you. You believed in me when I didn't believe in myself."
Although that scene of her awakening didn't happen like he might have remembered, he still considered her kindness. So he forced a smile. "It was nothing, Jada. You always had the potential within you anyways. It's in your chara—"
"I also wanted to tell you..." she cut him off, feeling a tad sad. "How much I love you guys. Marge, Alex, Lee, Naruto, Sakura… even Kakashi-sensei."
Arthur felt unsettled and out of place. He simply couldn't let himself get sucked into it.
So in a careful tone, he said, "Jada, remember that we're just playing a game, right?"
The playfulness in Jada's expression faded slightly. She bit her lip and frowned. Feeling the enthusiasm drain from her voice, she mumbled, "Oh, right... My real body's still back in the pod at Elysium."
"Yeah," Arthur said in a gentle tone. "It can be easy to get lost in everything, but we can't forget who we are."
Jada's gaze fell to the ground as she whispered, "I know. It's just... everything just looks and feels so real. The people, the places... it's like I could stay here forever."
Arthur felt conflicting emotions. Did he just hear her say that? He understood her yearning—the desire for a life filled with friends and camaraderie—to escape whatever troubles the real world kept dealing with. But the truth was a harsh reality they couldn't escape.
Here she was, treating this place as if it were real, as if she would never wake up. What she was seeing was a lie, an illusion carefully crafted to blind others.
Why Arthur hadn't fallen into this deception, like the others might have, was because of his faith in Jesus Christ.
So he reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We'll eventually reach the end. But for now, we need to stay grounded, okay?"
Jada shot him a quick, grateful smile, regaining her usual cheerfulness. "You're right. Sorry for getting caught up in it. Let's just enjoy the rest of the day, shall we?"
"Agreed…"
As they continued through the marketplace, they shared sweet laughter that echoed through the streets. Arthur knew the weight of the situation, but for now, they could exist in this borrowed time, a moment of normalcy amidst the chaos that awaited them.
Moments later.
Silence blanketed Arthur's hotel as he closed the door behind him.
Jada had offered to train with him. It was tempting, but he'd declined, knowing his time would be spent better elsewhere. Besides, he learned enough of what he needed from the other players to know what to do next.
They were the biggest unforeseen obstacles.
William was essentially a walking Naruto with foreknowledge; Jada was like a nicer version of Sasuke (only female); Margaret was a younger and stronger, yet prideful Tsunade; Alice was a sensor; Jasper was an Ōtsutsuki with the Eight Gates; and Alexander, the most suspicious of them all, was this world's cheat code.
Arthur felt frustrated at the thought. But even in his frustration, he knew how to control his emotions. His limitations had gotten him this far, so he wouldn't stop trying to define those boundaries that separated him from them.
So what if he had more than one Kekkei Genkai? So what if he was proficient in medical ninjutsu? So what if he had a Sage Mode? He was still, by no means, the strongest.
But there was one thing he was that no one else claimed to be: a Christian who walked by faith.
In his room, Arthur removed his shirt, revealing his near-zero body fat and muscular physique. While impressive, yes, it was his chakra that truly mattered.
After rummaging through his belongings, he carefully placed the contents on the floor. They were a meager collection of assorted tools: a handful of kunai, a pouch of shuriken, wrapped-up metallic wires, a small roll of thin needles, and an array of medical tools for emergencies.
Despite never having the luxury of living comfortably like some of the other players, he managed his money to have been able to afford all of these items. All while paying his bills on time.
Arthur soon unearthed a small pouch hidden in the closet. It held his remaining ryō, a small sum of ten coins. It was all he had after making purchases to fill his bag.
"Hmph…" he scoffed as he began organizing his equipment.
He sharpened all the kunai, checked the integrity of the shuriken, and unfurled the roll of needles to inspect them for any nicks or bends.
Each action had a quiet purpose that allowed him to stay prepared should anything happen tomorrow.
The sharpening of the blades mirrored the sharpening of his tenacity. The inspection of the shuriken symbolized the scrutiny he would need. The careful handling of the needles reflected the planning he always employed.
As the night wore on, the room remained utterly quiet.
Arthur had finished checking the last of his tools. He moved on to the rest of his supplies: blank scrolls and an empty weapon pouch.
Why he was going through this trouble was because the finals were tomorrow. Anything was bound to happen, so he had no choice but to prepare. All the players kept stating that Orochimaru wouldn't attack.
He was starting to believe it.
Ever since their last encounter at the Forest of Death, not once had he heard anything major about that Sannin. Players like Alex chased him off. And regarding Sasuke, he still had the curse mark, but not even Kabuto was intermingling in the village like before.
The Sand shinobi were no longer present, having withdrawn, and everything was going according to the player's plans.
Things looked bleak, out of his favour. So what was a true Christian to do in times like these? Pray.
Arthur therefore went into his closet, like he was instructed to do, and he prayed. When he came out, he understood that virtually anything could happen. Whether Orochimaru would or wouldn't attack, he knew he had to eventually leave the village one day.
With a final glance at his equipment, he shut off the lights, plunging the room into darkness.
No one was going to stop him from achieving his goal of shaking this world's core. No one.