For Shirō, Magic was the foundation of everything.
As for Ninjutsu, his origins made things complicated. He couldn't learn elemental techniques outside of his innate Wind Release, which put him at a major disadvantage compared to other shinobi.
In the world of Ninjutsu, the gap between those who could use Sage Mode and those who couldn't was enormous. Without it, one risked being sidelined in the great battles to come. But Sage Mode was notoriously difficult—it demanded natural affinity, discipline, and perfect balance. A single mistake could result in petrification or worse.
In contrast, Magic offered Shirō stability. Its path forward was clear, its growth predictable, and its risks manageable. For him, the choice was obvious.
Still, broadening one's knowledge never hurts. Ninjutsu study could sharpen the mind and refine efficiency.
He unrolled the scroll Sakumo had given him. It contained introductory notes on Wind Release. As expected, most of it was material Shirō already knew. Eighty percent was trivial to him, but the remaining details—obscure applications of shape and nature transformation—were worth his time.
After committing those to memory, he set the scroll aside and began experimenting with Wind Release shape transformation.
The key to creating new techniques wasn't power, but imagination. Minato and Kakashi were perfect examples: without their ideas, Rasengan and Chidori would never have existed.
As a modern transmigrant, Shirō's imagination wasn't inferior; if anything, he had access to inspirations from entirely different worlds. He just had to adapt them.
This time, his goal was ambitious: to recreate something akin to Krillin's Destructo Disc—a spiraling wind blade capable of cutting almost anything. After a night of planning, he had a rough concept. But first, he needed to polish his grasp of Wind Release shape transformation to stabilize a condensed wind disc before worrying about its cutting power.
Satisfied with his progress, he switched focus to Magic.
He had temporarily paused Displacement Magic training. With his current understanding, he calculated that by projecting Ruler Breaker he could anchor a small Displacement Space. That level was already sufficient for practical use—further refining it would only drain time and energy.
Instead, he focused on implantation of Magic Crests, knowing that higher mastery would reduce the suffering involved in the process later on. Alongside that, he continued practicing Reinforcement Magic, hoping one day his efficiency could reach at least eighty percent of Medea's standard.
By the time he stopped training, the sun had set. His parents were already asleep when he returned home. He washed, rested, and chose not to push further—sleep, after all, was the best recovery.
---
The next morning, Shirō rose earlier than usual, determined to keep his rhythm steady.
"Mom, is Dad at work?" he asked Keiko, who was preparing breakfast in the kitchen.
"No, he's studying or reading."
"Oh, thanks."
He padded over, slid the door open. "Dad."
Qieshi looked up. "Hmm? Shirō, what is it?"
"Here." Shirō handed him a ledger. "This is for you."
"What's this?"
"The medicinal field Hokage-sama rewarded us last time. I only received the ledger yesterday. Could you check if everything's in order? I don't really understand it."
"A medicinal field, huh?" Qieshi turned the ledger over in his hands. "We can certainly help with the bookkeeping, but your mom and I don't know much about medicinal herbs."
"That's fine. I'll handle the field itself. I just need you to help with the accounts."
"That's simple enough. But listen, you'll need to get a proper grasp of this quickly. You can't afford to let Hokage-sama down."
"I know. For now, can you check how much cash flow we actually have available?"
Qieshi arched his brow. "Are you short on money? What do you need it for?" His hands, however, were already flipping through the pages, cross-checking numbers.
"Heh, nothing serious. I just have a cultivation plan that requires some funds. Don't worry, I've saved most of what I need already. You helping manage the field is more than enough."
"Silly boy," Qieshi said with a faint smile. "That's not 'help.' A father supporting his son is only natural."
Shirō chuckled but fell silent, letting him work.
After a while, Qieshi shut the ledger and frowned. "Not ideal. There's too much stock and not enough cash. After deducting maintenance, seed costs, and necessary reserves, you've only got fifty thousand ryō that can actually be used."
"Only that much? For half a year's work?"
"The field's yield isn't high, and preserving the excess stock eats into profit. That's the main issue. If you could clear out this inventory, you'd have more cash flow. But these herbs are all common varieties. They're not easy to sell."
"That doesn't make sense. If they're common, shouldn't the demand be high?"
"You're forgetting—everyone knows they're common. Merchants already have steady suppliers, and you're offering too little to make them switch. On top of that, your production is small-scale. That makes buyers uninterested."
Shirō exhaled. "I see. So I need to find new sales channels… or boost the field's output."
"Exactly. That'll be up to you, though. Your mother and I can only do so much."
Before Shirō could reply, Keiko's voice came from the kitchen:
"Have you two finished? Come eat!"
"Haha, let's go," Qieshi said as he stood. "Your mom made plenty since you'll be home these two days."
When they entered the kitchen, Keiko was already setting dishes on the table. She shot them a look. "Honestly, what were you whispering about so early in the morning?"
"Hahaha," Qieshi grinned. "Hokage-sama rewarded Shirō with a medicinal field. I was just helping check the accounts. If you've got time later, you can keep an eye on it too, so you don't worry yourself sick."
"Really? As expected of my son!" Keiko's face brightened. "Don't worry, from now on I'll take care of the medicinal field myself!"
"Oh? You will? Since when do you understand medicinal herbs?" Qieshi teased.
Keiko froze, narrowed her eyes, and crossed her arms. "What was that?"
"Ah—nothing, nothing! Let's eat!" His instincts screamed danger, and he immediately dropped the subject.
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