This looks like a solid introductory chapter! You've established a protagonist who is cautious and pragmatic—traits that are essential for a "smart" survivalist in the Naruto world.
I've processed your translation and refined the prose to align with the high-quality webnovel standards you're looking for. I ensured Evan (Kamiyo Qian Yu) feels distinct from the "child" persona he projects, and I've kept the focus strictly on the game-like mechanics and his personal growth.
Chapter 1: The Golden Child and the System
The Land of Fire was aptly named. Even as the sun dipped toward the horizon, the air held a lingering, dry warmth that clung to the skin like a humid veil.
In the heart of this great nation lay Konoha, the Hidden Leaf Village. To an outsider, it was a marvel of architecture and nature—a sprawling metropolis cradled by colossal trees and guarded by the stoic faces of the Hokage carved into the mountainside. But to those who lived there, it was a place of ghosts.
Four years had passed since the Nine-Tails Rebellion. Four years since the night the sky turned red and the air grew thick with the scent of ozone and burning cedar. For the survivors, recovery hadn't just been about stone and mortar; it had been about reclaiming a sense of normalcy in a world where disaster could materialize from thin air.
Today, the village hummed with a renewed, vibrant energy. Construction crews had long since finished the primary residential sectors, and the marketplaces were once again choked with the scent of roasted dango, fresh produce, and the rhythmic clack-clack of geta on cobblestone.
Amidst the golden glow of the sunset, a small figure navigated the busy residential streets.
Evan walked with a steady, rhythmic pace. His small chest rose and fell in a controlled breath, his posture straight despite the fatigue pulling at his muscles. Sweat soaked his simple linen shirt, causing it to stick to his back, and a few stray locks of jet-black hair were plastered to his forehead.
By all accounts, he was a beautiful child. His skin was fair, untouched by the scars of war, and his features possessed a delicate symmetry that suggested a noble or refined lineage. His dark eyes were unusually deep for a four-year-old—clear, calm, and lacking the erratic franticness of most children his age.
"Evan! Back from the training grounds already?"
A middle-aged woman with a laundry basket propped on her hip waved at him from a porch.
Evan paused, his face instantly shifting. The neutral, focused expression vanished, replaced by a warm, slightly bashful smile. "Good evening, Mrs. Taka," he said, his voice high-pitched and polite. "I just finished my laps. I didn't want to be out after the streetlights came on."
"Such a diligent boy," she cooed, shaking her head. "If only my Daisuke had half your discipline. That boy is probably hiding behind the Academy again, throwing rocks at crows."
"Daisuke is just energetic," Evan offered gently. "It's a good trait for a future ninja."
As he continued down the street, the "good child" routine repeated itself like a well-rehearsed play. The villagers loved him. In a village that had lost so many, a polite, hardworking orphan was a beacon of hope—a symbol that the next generation was thriving.
"Evan, wait up!" Aunt Asa, a stout woman who ran a local fishmonger stall, bustled toward him. She thrust a paper-wrapped parcel into his hands. "Take this, dear. It's mackerel—fresh from the morning delivery. You're far too thin for a boy who trains that hard. Don't you dare try to pay me, either!"
Evan felt a genuine pang of warmth in his chest, though it was quickly shadowed by his habitual caution. "Thank you, Aunt Asa. Truly," he said, bowing low.
He waited until he turned the corner of his own street before the smile finally slid off his face. By the time he reached the gate of his detached courtyard—a modest but comfortable inheritance from parents he had never truly known—his expression had flattened into one of deep, contemplative exhaustion.
"Being the village's 'Golden Child' is a full-time job," he muttered, rubbing his jaw. His facial muscles actually ached from the hours of maintained pleasantry.
Evan dropped the fish on the kitchen counter and slumped into a chair. In his previous life, he had been a nobody—an office worker who spent his days staring at spreadsheets. He hadn't been a hero or a villain; he'd just been a participant in the slow grind of modern existence.
He had been reborn into a world that, in his previous life, was nothing more than a series of ink drawings and animated frames. He still remembered the paralyzing terror of his first few months: being trapped in a swaddling cloth while a mountain-sized fox with fur like liquid fire roared in the distance.
He had realized then that "survival" in this world wasn't a given. It was a privilege earned through blood, luck, or birthright.
Evan had none of those things. He wasn't an Uchiha with eyes that could rewrite reality. He wasn't a Senju with a monstrous life force. He was just Evan—a kid with a generic surname, Kamiyo, and a house that smelled like old scrolls and dust.
"Bloodline theory," Evan sighed, standing up to clean the fish. "The ultimate slap in the face to anyone who thinks hard work is enough."
He had no intention of being a hero. He didn't want to save the world; he just wanted to be alive when the world was finished being saved. To do that, he had to be smart. Most children in Konoha started refining Chakra as soon as they could sit still, but Evan had waited. He spent his time building a physical vessel that could handle the strain. He knew that extracting Chakra too early caused micro-fractures in the foundation of one's health.
"I'm not going to be a shooting star that burns out before the final act," he murmured.
After dinner, Evan headed to his bedroom and pulled out a scroll wrapped in dark silk—the Kamiyo legacy. It contained five specific techniques: Wind Style: Great Breakthrough, Gale Palm; Fire Style: Fire Bullet, Dragon Fire Technique; and the B-Rank: Fire Dragon Flame Bomb.
Evan sat cross-legged in the center of the room. "Step one," he whispered, closing his eyes. "Find the spark."
He began the breathing exercises. For most, this took weeks. But as Evan focused, he felt something react almost instantly. Perhaps it was because his mind was that of a grown man, possessing a spiritual weight that no four-year-old should have.
Thump.
Deep in his solar plexus, a spark ignited. A wave of warmth flooded his system—liquid sunlight pouring into his veins. It spiraled outward, making his skin tingle and his senses sharpen.
"So fast?" Evan's eyes snapped open. For the first time since his rebirth, he felt connected to the very fabric of this reality. I might actually be a natural, he thought.
Before he could finish the thought, a cold, crystalline chime rang from the center of his skull. It was a sound that belonged to his old world—the sound of an interface booting up.
[Ding!]
The air in front of his eyes shimmered. A translucent, blue-tinted screen manifested in the air.
[Initialization Complete.]
[Host Identity Confirmed: Evan (Kamiyo Qian Yu)]
[God-Tier Extraction System Loading...]
Evan froze, his breath hitching. He had spent four years preparing for a life of mediocrity and careful survival. He looked at the screen, and then at his hands, which were now glowing with a faint, blue aura of raw Chakra.
"Well," Evan whispered, a sharp, dangerous glint finally appearing in his dark eyes. "I guess survival just got a lot more interesting."