Night.
In the middle of a dense forest, several figures were camped at a small site, a crude tent pitched beside a campfire.
Four men sat around the flames, all wearing high-collared robes. In the firelight, their pale, grim faces looked downright eerie.
Each of them bore injuries of varying severity. After a long silence, a black-haired man with a ponytail spoke up.
"If it weren't for that kid dragging us down, we'd have finished already. I'm going to teach him a lesson right now!"
He stood, hand already on the long sword at his hip, clearly ready to spill blood in the next heartbeat.
"Enough. The clan leader will decide on this. Right now is a time of chaotic warfare—every extra hand is one more chance of completing the mission," said the older man in the middle, stopping him.
He didn't personally know the one in the tent, but the kid's background tied his hands. The clan head had specifically told him to watch over the boy. Useless or not, he had to keep him alive.
Hearing that, the ponytailed man could only swallow his anger.
Meanwhile, inside the tent, the man in question was slowly regaining consciousness.
Where the hell am I? I remember drinking myself blackout drunk, walking by the riverside, and then… slipping?
His head throbbed like it was splitting apart, his back felt as if it had been hit by a truck. He forced his eyes open—no familiar ceiling in sight.
Through the darkness, he could just make out the rough cloth of a tent ceiling. He tried to lift his hand, but his body was frozen, as if pinned by sleep paralysis. Then a sharp pain tore through his skull, and he blacked out again.
Some time later, he was roused by shouting outside the tent. Feeling strength return to his limbs, he managed to sit up.
He stared at his unfamiliar hands, his strange clothes, and the samurai sword beside him. As fragments of another man's memories streamed into his mind, he fell silent.
…I actually transmigrated? Into Naruto, no less? Good thing I still remember most of the plot… Naruto, Sasuke, whatever… But this time period feels… off.
The man had been a fresh corporate grunt, working a dead-end job and skirting responsibilities where possible. During a company outing, he'd had too much to drink, wandered alone to the riverbank, lost all sense of direction under the haze of alcohol, and with one misstep, plunged into the water—never to resurface.
And when he next opened his eyes, he'd been in this body.
Uchiha Gin… Uchiha, huh.
From the inherited memories, this was the Warring States Period—long before the founding of Konoha. The ninja world was in constant war. The Uchiha had just signed a "friendly pact" with the Hagoromo clan to face off against the Senju together.
Their current mission? The "Seedling Removal Operation"—small squads sent to assassinate young Senju clan members, cutting off the clan's next generation of fighters.
The original Gin's parents had both fallen in battle.
Because his mother was the elder sister of current clan head Uchiha Tajima, he had been taken in by Tajima himself.
But in the gifted Uchiha clan, Gin was painfully average—maybe even below that.
He was already in his twenties, yet in sparring he had lost miserably to a ten-year-old clansman.
Remembering the humiliation, Gin's new expression twisted.
Yeah, well, that ten-year-old was Madara freakin' Uchiha. If I could've beaten him, I'd brag about it for life.
Now that he had skimmed through the original Gin's memories, the transmigrated Gin began analyzing the situation.
This was the Warring States Period—no laws, only killing fields.
As a freshly dropped-in outsider, survival came first. In this era, living to thirty was already a luxury.
Trying out his chakra, he found it sluggish, almost snail-like, sometimes even vanishing. He muttered in his mind:
System, activate!!!
…Nothing.
Gin sighed.
Trash-tier talent, no system. This is the worst start possible.
Thinking it over, he decided to cling to the biggest thigh available—Uchiha Tajima, the current clan head. As Tajima's distant nephew, as long as he didn't court death, he could probably survive in peace until Konoha was founded.
With that in mind, he stepped out of the tent.
The three around the fire opened their eyes at the sound. The older man's gaze sharpened at the sight of Gin walking out, but he motioned for him to sit. Gin obediently took a spot opposite him.
"Uchiha Gin, for your mistake earlier today, I'll be reporting the loss to the clan head as it happened. For the rest of this mission, no more recklessness. You will follow my orders."
As he spoke, a flash of red spun in his narrow eyes—the pressure from his chakra almost made Gin choke for breath. Still, he nodded stiffly.
Three tomoe… already top-tier for the Uchiha.
Seeing that, Gin figured this mission wouldn't be easy.
From memory, earlier that day the Hagoromo clan had completed a major task before them. Proud as any Uchiha, the original Gin couldn't stand their smugness.
So he'd charged straight into Senju territory to find their target—
Only to be spotted by outer sentries before even crossing the border. A squad of Senju interceptors had descended, and a single punch of raw strength had sent Gin flying dozens of meters, smashing into the ground head-first and knocking him out cold.
He would've died if not for their captain—this older man, Uchiha Fenghuo—who had pulled him back.
No wonder the rest of the team despised him.
Was the original always this brainless? Gin thought.
At that moment, the ponytailed Uchiha appeared in a flicker, having just finished his watch. Seeing Gin up and about, a vein bulged on his forehead.
"Uchiha Gin, if it weren't for the captain protecting you, I'd have burned that curly mop of yours off. If you pull another stunt, I'll take you out before the Senju do."
Gin felt a headache coming on, especially under the hostile stares of the others.
Man… the original owner was seriously hated.
Glancing at the huge shuriken planted in the ground beside him, he caught his reflection in the polished metal.
Messy, fluffy curls. Lifeless dead-fish eyes. Uchiha genes had blessed him with a fairly handsome face, but somehow the overall vibe just screamed "punch me."
"Sorry, everyone. I was reckless today. From here on out, I'll follow all your commands."
When you're under someone else's roof, you bow your head. And without fully mastering the original's abilities, Gin figured it was best to lie low.
"...Huh???????"
The others all stared in shock, as if they'd just seen a ghost.