It's been a week since I decided to put my plan on hold and focus on leveling up and boosting my stats. I've put in a Herculean effort—practically achieved the impossible. Yes, for an entire week, I've been doing morning exercises and going for a run. I'm also trying to sense chakra, but so far, it's just attempts with no progress. Naturally, I'm working on increasing my elemental affinities, though the process is painfully slow and tedious. Still, I keep training.
I tested Immersion into the Deep Shadow Plane, and of course, there's a fly in the ointment. First off, the immersion time: it takes me 45 seconds to fully submerge—way too slow. I'd get sliced up a hundred times in that span. But that's not the worst part; as the skill levels up, the time should decrease.
The real problem is that the plane is inhabited by cute, friendly, but clearly carnivorous creatures. A massive maw full of fangs made it obvious they don't munch on grass. After spending ten minutes there, I had to hightail it back to avoid becoming lunch.
Despite that, I kept trying to master shadow immersion. It's too promising a skill, and since I still haven't gotten Stealth or Observation, I'd have to abandon my plan without it—something I really don't want to do.
Through training, I figured out a few crucial details. First, I got a better look at the plane's inhabitants. They had a pretty exotic appearance: an elongated body vaguely resembling a shark, but with a stretched-out head and a huge mouth packed with three rows of fangs that'd make a T-Rex jealous. I had the dubious pleasure of seeing those fangs up close—too close. The body, about two and a half meters long, maybe more, was covered in smooth-looking skin. Where fins and a tail should've been, there were clusters of tentacles instead.
The second key discovery was the safe time I can spend there without risking being eaten. Through trial and error, I found that five minutes is the max—after that, I get spotted within one to two minutes, and they try to eat me. I also learned I can't use the same shadow too often or too soon afterward. Those creatures set up ambushes in those spots.
I once noticed a creature approaching early and got out of the shadow. But half an hour later, I went back to the same shadow and came face-to-maw with the beast. I escaped by a miracle. The system even gave me +1 to Luck for that.
Over this time, I managed to level the skill to 3, cutting the immersion time by a whole two seconds.
Another issue was navigating the shadow plane. There's no concept of up or down there, and the shadows are like rifts, scattered chaotically. You could dive into a shadow by your house, then emerge from a rift that looks three meters away on the plane, only to find yourself on the other side of the village.
But I didn't give up, and it's paying off. At level 1, I had zero sense of direction there, but now I get to roughly where I want three out of ten times, instead of ending up god-knows-where.
A nice bonus was that my stats went up: Intuition by 2, and Spirit Strength by 1. My Darkness affinity also increased by 0.15%.
It wasn't as great with the other elements, though. Despite pushing myself—spending hours swimming in the river and then sunbathing while meditating on the shore in the bright sun every day—all I got was a tan, nothing else.
I had to take a break from training to go pick up my allowance. Yep, bureaucracy is evil, and that evil is everywhere. I stood in line for over an hour, only to find out I needed to go to another office to get a certificate proving I'm me. There, they sent me to the orphanage for supporting documents. Long story short, I ran around all day, but I finally got the allowance. If it's like this every time, I'd rather starve.
But why the heck did they give me free meal vouchers for Ichiraku along with the allowance? Out of curiosity, I decided to check out this legendary place—plus, I can't let free vouchers go to waste. Free stuff is sacred. The ramen was pretty good—okay, fine, it was delicious, especially compared to what I've been eating.
My current diet consists of instant noodles, rice cooked eight different ways, and I'm working on a ninth. What else can I do? Buying other stuff like meat and vegetables isn't an option anymore. Before, they'd sell to me at inflated prices, but after my field tests with Irritating Stare, they won't even let me in the door. The only place I can shop now is the Sarutobi store, and they mostly sell inedible stuff. For food, they've only got noodles, rice, and spices.
I'd even started getting used to this diet, and then this happens. In my excitement, I scarfed down three portions. But one thing bothered me: the owner of Ichiraku was way too nice to me. He was practically trying to be my friend—asking how my life's going, what I dream about, what I want to be, all with a kind smile on his face.
Nothing too weird about that, I guess—not everyone's a jerk; there are good people too. But just out of curiosity, I checked my reputation with him to compare. I've only ever seen deeply negative reputations, so I wanted to know how high it needs to be for someone to treat me this well. Turns out, my reputation with him is neutral—zero, neither positive nor negative. He should be indifferent to me, yet he's trying to be my buddy and treating me to free portions on the house. I've got neutral rep with the stationery shop guy too, and there it's simple: I go in, say what I need, they give it to me, take my money—no questions about my life, let alone discounts.
That's exactly why I found it so suspicious. My first thought was, are they slipping something into the ramen? But the system stayed silent, and no debuffs showed up. At first, I thought about not going back, but after weighing the pros and cons, I decided I would. Free stuff, after all.
Most likely, the Third pulled some strings to make sure the jinchuriki doesn't starve or go feral from all the hatred. But the old man's wasting his time—that trick might've worked on canon Naruto, but not on me. I'm not here to prove anything or earn the approval of this herd.
I finished my search for a good spot to test an illusory barrier. That spot turned out to be the sewers—a fitting place to start, in my opinion. In every game, rats are the weakest mobs, usually level 1 to 5 at most. Since I'm only level 4 with zero attack skills or weapons, rats I can just kick to death are perfect. It's an ideal spot for training and gathering basic resources.
I reached the spot—an open manhole in a dark alley. I was about to activate the barrier when I realized I had no idea how to do that. Mental commands didn't work, so I tried saying it out loud.
— Illusory Barrier, activate. — Nothing.
— Illusory Barrier, open. — Still no change.
— Illusory Barrier, work. — I'm starting to feel like an idiot.
Ten attempts and half an hour of cursing later…
— System, damn it, activate the barrier, have some conscience! — I'd tried every possible way to activate this stupid barrier. My last hope was that the system would accept the request.
Request invalid.
I lack a conscience. It's physically impossible to "have" a non-material entity. But I can certainly "have" someone else, and nothing will happen to me for it. Being a non-material entity has its perks.
— Just what I needed. What the heck, I'm supposed to have an illusory barrier! It said so in the instructions! — I was furious. Not only am I not getting the skills I need, the ones I do get work like crap, I won't even mention the achievements, and my stats are growing so slowly. Now even what I'm entitled to doesn't work!
Are you dissatisfied with the performance of the Player System Version T.-3000?
— Yes, very dissatisfied!
Would you like to summon a System Administrator to voice your complaints?
— OH YES. I absolutely want to!
— GIVE ME AN ADMIN!!! — I'll tell them everything.
Are you sure you wish to summon a System Administrator?
— Of course I'm sure, more than ever in my life.
I, Unknown Entity, being of sound mind and sober memory, wish to summon a System Administrator.
Confirm / Cancel
— This sounds suspiciously like a will. — Nope, you're not fooling me.
— Confirm.
Request received…
Processing request…
Activating Protocol 666.666 "Summon System Administrator"
— My recently boosted Intuition is telling me that six sixes aren't a good sign.
System Administrator "Evangelist" Hapsiel will arrive in 90… 89
— CANCEL, ABORT, NO NEED…
78… 77
— Cancel it, you stupid /#$#@$@%@ */@$@$%%& and ^%^%^$^ $^$^ on &%$&&^#$^$^#@E!
45… 44
— Okay, I'm sorry, I was wrong, I'll behave, I swear! Just cancel it!
25… 24
— System, dear, please forgive me. Cancel it, pretty please!
Are you sure you want to interrupt the System Administrator summon?
— YES-yes-yes-yes.
Are you absolutely sure? If canceled, a new summon will be impossible, and this world will be closed to the System Administrator.
— Of course I'm sure, cancel it! — That glowing pink summoning circle half a meter away was making me really nervous.
9… 8
Interrupt the System Administrator summon.
NO / no / Maybe not / Yes, let them come / yes
— What the heck, there it is, "yes."
System Administrator summon interrupted.
— Phew, that was close, — I said, wiping the sweat off my forehead as I watched the summoning circle fade.
Param-pam-pam.
Warning!!!
You've failed the ultra-secret global-level quest "Love and Peace in the Lands of Shinobi."
Summon Hapsiel to this world.
Reward: A harem of the most beautiful kunoichi from all five great villages, disruption of all Akatsuki plans, no military conflicts for 100 years, 100 levels, 150 skill points.
Penalty / Failure: You'll have to do everything yourself.
— Uh…
— Hapsiel, COME BACK!!!
Somewhere Unknown
— MMM!!! I can feel someone calling me!!! I'm coming, MY DEAR!!!
World № 166484FF9879G-151654P12
A neighboring world to that of a certain not-so-lucky or bright player.
— Idiot, moron. You call that a toad?
— Shut up, look, it's got legs.
— Dumbass, it's still a tadpole. Try again.
— Fine, I'll summon something awesome this time.
PFF
— MMMMMMAAAA!!! Looks like it's here.
— …
— OOO!!! SO CUTE!!! MMM!!!
— COME TO ME!!!
— AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!