The training grounds of Konohagakure were alive with the clamor of sparring students, the air thick with the scent of sweat and earth. I stood at the edge of the field, my hood pulled low, observing the chaos with a gamer's eye—analyzing, calculating, searching for patterns. The Ninja Academy was a crucible, forging raw talent into weapons, and I was here to refine my own arsenal. My goals—power, control, freedom—demanded versatility, and today, my focus was on a trio that had caught my attention: Ino Yamanaka, Shikamaru Nara, and Choji Akimichi. The Ino-Shika-Cho formation, a legacy of their clans, was a masterclass in synergy, and I intended to learn from it.
My past life as a gamer, spent diving into RPGs like Baldur's Gate and Dragon Age, had taught me to study every mechanic, to exploit every advantage. The Ino-Shika-Cho trio was like a well-balanced party: Ino the mage with her mind-based techniques, Shikamaru the strategist with his shadow control, and Choji the tank with his brute strength. Their clan techniques were specialized, honed over generations, and I wanted to understand them—not to mimic them exactly, but to adapt their principles to my own style. My Mirror Mirage Technique, inspired by Baldur's Gate's Mirror Image spell, was proof I could blend my old life's instincts with this world's shinobi arts. Now, I'd do the same with the trio's skills.
The day's exercise was a team sparring match, and Iruka had pitted Ino's team against mine: me, Naruto, Sakura, and Hinata. The setup was deliberate, I suspected, a test to see how our mismatched group would fare against a clan trio with years of coordination. As we faced off, I kept my stance relaxed, my hands loose at my sides, but my mind was racing, cataloging every move the trio made.
Shikamaru took the lead, his eyes half-lidded but sharp as he barked orders. "Ino, flank left. Choji, hold the center." His Shadow Imitation Technique was the first to strike, his chakra extending through the ground as a dark tendril snaked toward Naruto. The blonde idiot dodged, barely, but it gave me a clear view of the technique's mechanics: Shikamaru's shadow stretched unnaturally, guided by precise chakra control, locking onto Naruto's movements like a homing spell. It was elegant, like a trap card in a strategy game, forcing the target to mirror the user's actions.
Ino moved next, her hands forming seals as she targeted Sakura. The Mind Transfer Jutsu was slower, requiring focus and a direct line of sight, but its potential was devastating—a single hit could hijack an opponent's body. I noted its weakness: Ino's body went limp during the technique, leaving her vulnerable. Choji, meanwhile, charged forward, his Expansion Jutsu swelling his arm to the size of a tree trunk. He aimed for Hinata, who ducked with her Byakugan-activated precision, but the sheer force of his swing cracked the ground. It was raw power, unrefined but overwhelming, like a warrior class built for high-damage output.
Our team scrambled, Naruto shouting and Sakura panicking, but I stayed calm, weaving a quick Mirror Mirage Technique. Three illusory clones appeared, each mimicking my movements but splitting off to confuse Ino's aim. Her Mind Transfer missed, her chakra scattering harmlessly, and I closed the distance, tapping her arm with a restrained Cleave—just enough to sting. She yelped, breaking her focus, and I darted back before Choji could retaliate.
Shikamaru's shadow caught me next, my body freezing as his chakra locked mine in place. Clever. But I'd played enough RPGs to know how to counter crowd control. I channeled chakra to my nerves, using my medical ninjutsu to disrupt the connection, breaking free faster than he expected. His eyes widened, but he didn't falter, directing Choji to charge again. I dodged, letting Naruto take the brunt of the attack—his resilience was useful, at least.
The match ended in a draw, Iruka calling it before anyone got seriously hurt. As we dispersed, I lingered, watching the trio regroup. Ino was scolding Shikamaru for not predicting my counter, while Choji munched on a bag of chips, unfazed. Their synergy was imperfect but practiced, their techniques complementary. I wanted that efficiency, that balance, but tailored to my solo style.
That night, in my shack, I began experimenting. Shikamaru's Shadow Imitation intrigued me most. Its reliance on shadows was a limitation, but the concept—controlling an opponent's movements through chakra—was versatile. I didn't have the Nara clan's bloodline, but genjutsu could mimic the effect. I started with a basic illusion, projecting a false shadow that seemed to stretch toward a nearby rock. The rock didn't move, obviously, but I refined the chakra flow, adding a sensory component to make the shadow feel oppressive, like a weight on the mind. It was a prototype, far from perfect, but it could evolve into a genjutsu that paralyzed foes without physical contact.
Ino's Mind Transfer was trickier. Hijacking someone's body was beyond my current skill, but I could simulate its disorientation. I practiced a genjutsu inspired by Dragon Age's Confusion spell, targeting a stray cat outside my shack. The illusion flooded its senses with conflicting images—me in ten places at once, each one moving differently. The cat froze, its eyes darting wildly, before it bolted. The technique needed work, but it could disrupt an enemy's focus in a fight, leaving them open for a Cleave or Dismantle.
Choji's Expansion Jutsu was the least applicable—my body wasn't built for that kind of transformation—but its raw power inspired me to enhance my physical training. I already had chakra-enhanced strength, letting me lift weights far beyond my age, but I could push further. I rigged a crude pulley system in the shack, using heavy stones to test my limits. By cycling chakra through my muscles, I lifted a boulder twice my weight, my arms steady despite the strain. It wasn't Choji's size-shifting, but it was a tank's durability, a foundation for enduring long battles.
The next day, I tested my new ideas in a solo training session in the forest. I combined the Mirror Mirage Technique with my shadow-based genjutsu, creating illusory clones that cast false shadows to disorient a target. Against a practice dummy, it worked beautifully—the shadows seemed to writhe, drawing the eye while my clones flanked from unexpected angles. I added a touch of Ino-inspired confusion, making the dummy's "perspective" flicker with distorted images. In a real fight, it could overwhelm even a seasoned shinobi.
I also refined my physical regimen, incorporating Choji's relentless energy. During a spar with Naruto later that week, I used my enhanced stamina to outlast him, dodging his wild punches until he was panting, then landing a precise kick to his side. He laughed it off, but I saw the respect in his eyes. Good. Let him think we were friends—it kept suspicion at bay.
As I returned to my shack that night, I felt a quiet satisfaction. The Ino-Shika-Cho trio had shown me what synergy could do, and I was adapting it to my lone-wolf style. My gamer instincts, honed by years of RPGs, were my edge—every technique was a spell, every fight a dungeon. Hiruzen and Danzo might be watching, their scrutiny a shadow over my shoulder, but I wasn't deterred. My foundation was stronger than ever, built on deception, strength, and relentless ambition. The world of shinobi was a game, and I was playing to win.