Ever since Yui Amagiri had been brought to this massive basin, she finally understood what living hell truly meant.
Each day she was allowed only three hours of sleep—no more, not even a minute. Another hour was reserved for meals, bathroom breaks, and a brief rest. The remaining twenty hours? Pushed beyond her limits in brutal, relentless training.
That one hour of free time each day was the only part of her schedule she had control over. The rest was a soul-crushing routine that left her utterly exhausted. In her previous life, even during overtime workdays, she never experienced this kind of intensity. Twelve-hour shifts had been her worst—yet now, at just five years old, she was expected to be active for twenty hours a day, every single day. She admitted to herself that she regretted refining her chakra. She had practically signed herself up for torture.
If there was one redeeming feature, it might have been that single hour of freedom.
Unlike the previous training camps filled with children, this basin only had her and the ninja responsible for training her—Sachiko Yamamura. The headband tied around Sachiko's arm bore the symbol of Kirigakure, the Hidden Mist Village—but it had a deep scratch across it, the unmistakable mark of a rogue ninja.
And not just any rogue ninja. Becoming a rogue was difficult enough; surviving the inevitable pursuit from the assassination squads was nearly impossible. That meant she wasn't just a regular genin or chunin—Sachiko Yamamura had to be a jonin-level ninja.
Sachiko didn't concern herself with anything other than Yui's training. Whether Yui spent her limited free time resting, playing, or plotting escape, Sachiko simply didn't care.
The basin was surrounded on all sides by slick, nearly vertical rock walls. They were so steep and wet that climbing was nearly impossible. Even for a trained ninja, without exceptional chakra control and agility, scaling the thirty-meter-high cliffs was out of the question.
So running away wasn't an option. That left only one path forward—obey Sachiko Yamamura's every command and train like her life depended on it. Because it did.
To be fair, the food was quite good—three full meals a day, always nutritious and even delicious. And if Yui happened to get a scrape or a muscle pull during training, Sachiko would personally bring medicine. She never applied it herself, though—she would instruct Yui on what to do, and that was that.
Yui often wondered where she was. What country was this? A major one or some forgotten corner of the world? Why was a rogue ninja from the Hidden Mist doing this here?
She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being raised like livestock. Like a pig being fattened up for slaughter. Once she was strong enough, she'd be "harvested."
The training included all the foundational elements—physical endurance, balance, the mechanics of throwing weapons, and eventually live combat drills. To avoid getting injured, Yui had to learn how to dodge, parry, and make quick, accurate decisions. If she couldn't fully evade a blow, she had to minimize the damage however possible.
Sachiko also used every opportunity to teach her reading, various dialects, and regional accents. Gradually, Yui realized—she was being groomed to be a jack-of-all-trades.
Half a year passed in this brutal hell.
During that time, Yui suffered two high fevers, got sick from mosquito-borne disease, and was poisoned by a venomous insect. Each time, she was dangerously close to death. But Sachiko's medical knowledge was exceptional—she always treated Yui in time, making it impossible for her to even use illness as an excuse to slack off.
"A five-year-old genin. At this pace, if you survive until the end, you might become the one," Sachiko had once remarked after a combat assessment.
After half a year of hellish training, Yui had been forcefully molded into a genin, and not just any genin—an elite one with balanced skills in every area. Even kids from the major ninja villages didn't always receive this level of one-on-one instruction. Twenty hours of hands-on, high-intensity training from a jonin every single day? It was a miracle she was even alive.
Apparently pleased with Yui's progress, Sachiko granted her a rare privilege after assessing her current abilities—a half-day off. From the afternoon until evening, she didn't have to train.
As soon as Sachiko left, Yui collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. After a moment, she forced herself to her feet and staggered toward the well. She drew water to rinse off, then leaned over and stared into the inky black depths below.
She had once thought about jumping into the well to escape. But it had never gone beyond a thought. Who knew what lurked in that water? Or where it led? As terrible as her current situation was, at least part of it was known. The unknown inside the well was far more terrifying.
Back in her little hut, she flopped onto the tatami mat. Sachiko never cared about her personal space or belongings. She only controlled Yui's training and nothing else. Because of that, Yui didn't need to constantly pretend to be something she wasn't.
She pulled a blanket over herself, even covering her head. Even if Sachiko said she'd left, what if she was secretly watching from the shadows? Yui never let her guard down. It was a basic rule of survival.
For the past six months, there had been one thing Yui did every single day without fail—besides training and plotting escape.
That was examining the strange card she had with her since the day she'd arrived in this world.
If she was going to survive, she couldn't rely solely on herself. This card, which had been with her since her reincarnation, was her only hope. She'd always dreamed it might be her salvation—maybe it would reveal some secret power or give her an edge.
But day after day, it disappointed her.
The card had one function: it could go invisible. And that invisibility applied only to the card itself—not to her. Beyond that, it was just a blank piece of nothing.
She'd gone from hopeful to numb. Still, no matter how tired or miserable she felt, she never skipped her daily check. It had become a ritual.
Today, something was different.
When Yui focused her thoughts, the card appeared in her right hand. But instead of the usual black screen, color bloomed across its surface.
Her heart pounded. Her body trembled. She checked over and over, making sure she wasn't imagining things. The card had really changed.
It flashed with light, then vibrated, then stilled. Then went black again. A moment later, it lit up once more.
Yui was on edge, heart thudding in her chest.
A three-dimensional image of a little girl appeared on the card. It was her—a perfect model of herself.
She could rotate the figure with her finger. Small annotations hovered beside it.
Strength: E
Endurance: E
Agility: E
Mana: E
Luck: ??
Noble Phantasm: ??
In the upper-left corner was a label: Elite Genin
Yui held back her shock and studied it carefully. This had to be her personal status screen.
In the upper-right corner was an option labeled "Deck." She tapped it.
The image shifted. Her 3D model disappeared, replaced by another girl—wearing a standard Tokiwadai Middle School uniform, with light brown shoulder-length hair. Sparks of lightning flickered around her. She was bold, elegant, and powerful.
It was Mikoto Misaka.
"…!"
Yui clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming.