Five in the morning.
The fog blanketing the garbage dump carried a sour, acidic stench.
Sosuke stood before a shipping container, his hands forming seals.
The movements were smoother than yesterday, yet still stiff.
Ram—Serpent—Tiger.
As his knuckles interlocked, the chakra within his body mobilized.
It was a bizarre sensation. Like forcing water through a pipe into a rigid mold.
"Clone Jutsu!" Sosuke muttered.
Poof.
A dull thud. A plume of white smoke erupted beside him.
The smoke dissipated. On the ground lay a heap of... something.
It held a vaguely humanoid silhouette, but the form was flaccid—like an uninflated balloon. Its facial features were blurred, its limbs twisted. It lasted a mere two seconds before collapsing into thin air.
"Bwahaha!"
Genzo sat on a pile of scrapped tires, laughing so hard he spat out his liquor. "That's your clone? What, are you trying to kill the enemy with laughter?"
Sosuke remained expressionless. He felt no shame.
"Where did I fail?" he asked.
"Imagination." Genzo wiped the alcohol from his mouth, his smile fading. "The Clone Jutsu is an E-Rank ninjutsu. It has no physical substance. Fundamentally, it's an optical illusion. It's the most superficial application of Yin Release chakra."
"You have to construct the concept of 'yourself' in your mind with absolute clarity. Every strand of hair, the look in your eyes, the creases in your clothes." Genzo tapped his temple. "You're a realist, kid. Your head is full of calculations. But right now, that's your greatest shackle. You care too much about 'reality', completely ignoring the 'illusion'."
Sosuke fell silent.
Genzo was right.
His innate ability was [Precious Metal Generation]. It was the absolute pinnacle of physical materialization. Expecting him to conjure an intangible, hollow phantom inherently clashed with his nature.
"How do I practice?" Sosuke asked.
"Stare at yourself." Genzo tossed him a cracked mirror. "Look at yourself until you want to vomit. Memorize every single detail."
Sosuke caught the mirror. The glass was fractured, reflecting a face pale from overtraining.
He began to look. Unmoving.
From the arch of his eyebrows to the faint lines at the corners of his eyes. From the slight flare of his nostrils to the cold, indifferent curve of his lips.
It was an incredibly tedious process. It was also a process of re-examining himself.
Who was he? Was he Sosuke, the transmigrator? Or the desperate vagrant who would do whatever it took to survive?
Slowly, the face in the mirror became unfamiliar. That blend of familiarity and alienation caused his mind to momentarily blur.
In that exact moment, an odd burst of inspiration struck him.
What if he didn't view the clone as a 'person', but rather as a 'precise construct'?
Just like when he generated the golden spider hairpin. First, construct the skeleton, then fill it with flesh and blood, and finally, stretch the skin over it.
This wasn't the logic of genjutsu. This was the logic of creation.
Sosuke lowered the mirror. He closed his eyes.
The vague concept of 'himself' vanished from his mind, replaced by an intricate three-dimensional blueprint.
Skeleton, muscles, blood vessels, skin.
Chakra was the raw material. Willpower was the casting mold.
Ram—Serpent—Tiger.
His fingers moved. The speed wasn't fast, but it carried a distinct rhythm. Every hand sign formed felt like injecting molten metal into a cast.
"Clone Jutsu."
Poof.
A sudden burst of white smoke. As it cleared, a young man dressed in a grey tunic stood beside Sosuke.
Height, build, even the clothes—perfectly identical. Aside from a slightly vacant gaze, it was practically indistinguishable from the real thing.
Genzo's drinking motion halted.
He narrowed his eyes and circled the clone. Extending his iron crutch, he gently poked the illusion.
Pop.
The clone wavered, but it did not disperse.
"It held?" Genzo looked surprised.
A typical novice's first success usually only held together for a few seconds. But this clone... the structure was incredibly stable.
"What did you treat it as?" Genzo asked.
"A sculpture," Sosuke answered honestly. "A hollow sculpture made of chakra."
"Freak," Genzo muttered, though a flash of approval crossed his eyes.
Every ninja had their own 'Ninja Way'—their unique method of understanding the world. The kid's approach was unorthodox, but as long as it caught mice, it was a good cat.
"You've grasped the basics of the Clone Jutsu." Genzo sat back down by the entrance. "Next is the Substitution Jutsu."
"This is the core of staying alive. The Clone Jutsu deceives the eyes. The Substitution Jutsu deceives the blade."
Genzo pointed toward the distant woods. "Go chop down a few logs. About the thickness of your arm."
Sosuke turned and headed for the treeline.
Chopping the wood didn't take long. Sosuke dragged five logs back to the scrapyard.
"The principle behind the Substitution Jutsu is instantaneous explosive speed, utilizing an object for visual obstruction." Genzo picked up a log, weighing it in his hand. "It involves a tiny fraction of Space-Time Ninjutsu, but it relies mostly on the high-speed movement of taijutsu."
"Ram—Boar—Ox—Dog—Tiger."
"In this sequence, the first four signs pool your chakra. The final one executes the swap." Genzo tossed the log to Sosuke. "Hold it."
Sosuke caught the wood against his chest.
"I'm going to attack you." Genzo picked up a handful of rocks from the ground.
"With rocks?" Sosuke asked.
"This is just the beginning."
Swish.
Genzo threw.
Even as a cripple, the sheer strength in his arm was staggering. The rock whistled through the air, aimed dead center at Sosuke's face.
In the past, Sosuke's only option would have been to dodge. But now, he needed to practice the 'swap'.
Ram—Boar—Ox—Dog—Tiger.
His fingers blurred in a flurry of motion. But before the stone struck his face, the seals were still incomplete.
Smack.
The rock slammed viciously into Sosuke's forehead. A large welt swelled instantly.
"Too slow!" Genzo roared. "On the battlefield, that's a kunai! That's an explosive tag! You'd be dead! Again!"
Swish.
The second rock.
Smack. It hit his shoulder.
"Again!"
A third rock. A fourth rock.
Sosuke was beaten black and blue. But he didn't stop. He was forcing his body to memorize the acute stress response of impending bodily harm.
Finally. As the fifteenth rock flew at him.
Sosuke's pupils contracted violently. Adrenaline spiked. In that fraction of a second, the chakra inside his body seemed to boil.
Five hand signs, completed in less than a second.
"Substitution Jutsu!"
Bang.
White smoke exploded. The rock smashed into a wooden log with a heavy thud. And Sosuke had already materialized beside a trash heap three meters away.
He gasped for air, chest heaving.
For a brief, suspended moment, the world seemed to slow down. That was the sensation of a chakra outburst.
"Passable," Genzo critiqued. "But the distance is too short. Three meters? The blast radius of an explosive tag is five meters. You just changed the spot where you die. Still, you've grasped the principle."
Genzo downed the rest of his liquor. "We're done for today. Go back and ice those bruises."
Sosuke touched the swelling welt on his forehead. It throbbed with pain. But a faint smirk crept onto his lips.
Two of the Three Basic Jutsu mastered.
Only one remained. The Transformation Jutsu. The cornerstone of infiltration and disguise.
But before tackling that, he needed to buy medicine.
If the Red Snake Gang or the Military Police Force caught sight of him in this state, it would be thoroughly humiliating. A 'miracle doctor' sporting a black eye and a swollen face wasn't exactly convincing.