Arthur considered his options, the weight of the unfairness pressing down on him.
"Clan-less" seemed like a bleak prospect, offering no special abilities or starting bonuses. With disappointment, he navigated back to that final option. The description was appalling.
Zero ryō, orphan status, average chakra reserves—it was a slap in the face compared to the advantages the other clans provided. Plus, the player wouldn't start out in the Leaf Village. No wonder it was the only option left.
Amidst the bleakness, there was a pro: Player's support techniques are easier to learn.
Such techniques are commonly classified as buffing allies, laying traps, or intel gathering. Maybe, just maybe, this particular character wouldn't be a complete letdown.
Arthur wasn't one to give up easily. He wouldn't let this virtual world break him. Instead, he'd turn it into an opportunity.
With a finger, he minimized the clan selection menu. He then navigated back to the information that explained Naruto's story. This time, he read it with a renewed focus, not on the plot itself but on the details—the hidden training methods, the forgotten jutsu, the unexpected power-ups.
He searched for loopholes—for those moments when the underdog triumphed and ingenuity overtook brute force. He also explored every side character, every forgotten technique, and every seemingly insignificant detail.
Hours—or perhaps it felt like hours—melted away as he delved into the narrative. If there was a way to overcome his limitations, it would be hidden somewhere within the story—somewhere the developers neglected.
Finally, with a satisfied sigh, he closed the information window. He wasn't going in blind anymore. He had a plan, a strategy. Maybe not a perfect one, but it was his.
With a newfound determination, he pressed back on the character selection menu and confirmed his choice: "Clan-less."
The world dissolved once more in a swirling vortex of white light. The disorientation was familiar this time, but the anticipation was sharper.
When it solidified, Arthur found himself standing not on a bustling village street but in the heart of a dense, emerald forest. Sunlight filtered through the thick canopy, casting shadows on the grassy floor. The sound of unseen chirping birds could be heard.
He was alone—a single figure in a vast, indifferent wilderness.
No welcoming NPCs, no starting village—just him and the clothes on his back. This was part of the challenge, part of the test; this was his starting point.
Relaxing himself, he surveyed his surroundings. Nothing could be seen; everything looked and felt real. So, with determined eyes, he stepped forward, leaving the safety of the trees behind him.
Arthur walked steadily through the undergrowth.
He marveled at the lightness of his body. Each step felt effortless; his limbs were propelled by a newfound strength and agility.
This was the effect of chakra, the life force that fueled every jutsu, every extraordinary feat performed by the ninjas of this world. Even without a prestigious clan lineage, he could feel the faint thrum of chakra within him. It was like a pool of water or a wellspring waiting to be tapped.
In this world, children, like Kakashi Hatake, were strong enough to graduate from the academy for ninjas as early as five. Back in his world, children that young were barely learning their ABCs.
The implications were staggering. Prodigies like Kakashi, barely out of diapers, had already perfected the fundamentals of ninjutsu, genjutsu, and taijutsu—the three pillars of ninja combat.
Perhaps he didn't have things like the Hyūga's Byakugan; he had something NPCs didn't—the wisdom and experience of a seasoned adult in a young body. He could use his knowledge of this world, as well as his understanding of the characters and their techniques, to carve his own path.
Arthur's pulse quickened as he prepared to navigate the terrain. But before he could set off, he heard a scream pierce the air. It was a female's voice, laced with terror, coming from somewhere deep within the forest.
He pivoted towards the source of the sound, believing this was part of the game. Maybe a tutorial?
He pushed through the undergrowth, the dense foliage clawing at his clothes as he weaved between trees. The screams grew louder and more desperate, until he finally burst into a clearing.
The sight that greeted him was unexpected. A young girl, no older than twelve, kneeled cowering in the center of the clearing. Her tear-streaked face and trembling form were unmistakable signs of terror.
A burly man, easily two heads taller and twice as broad as Arthur, towered over her. The man wore the familiar Leaf Village forehead protector, a headband, which marked him as a ninja.
This was strange to Arthur. Why was a ninja from the Leaf Village harassing a little girl?
The man's hand grasped the girl's arm with cruel intentions, his other hand flexing menacingly. Every fiber of Arthur's being screamed at him to intervene. Even if this was a game, someone was in danger. Despite his lack of training, he couldn't stand by.
"Let her go," Arthur said with surprising authority.
The burly man scoffed, his gaze shifting from the girl to Arthur like he was appraising an insect. He mocked, asking, "And who are you supposed to be pipsqueak? A hero?"
Arthur didn't answer. He knew words wouldn't deter this brute. He squared his shoulders; years of self-defense training were waiting to be used. It wasn't much, but it was all he had.
With a surge of adrenaline, he lunged and aimed for a basic double-leg. But the man, seemingly anticipating the move, reacted with an even faster speed!
A single, brutal shove sent Arthur sprawling back with a grunt of pain. The impact on the forest floor was brutal. The air whooshed out of his lungs, and a searing pain shot up his back.
This was unlike anything he'd experienced back in the real world. Dr. Kapoor had mentioned a dampened pain threshold, yet this felt too real—agonizingly real!
Tears welled up in Arthur's eyes as the burly man loomed over him, a cruel amusement twisting his features. A single, brutal kick landed on Arthur's side, sending a wave of pain through him.
He whimpered, his bravado crumbling under the onslaught. Panic, cold and sharp, began to gnaw at the edges of his mind.
Why did it hurt so much? Had Dr. Kapoor lied? If he dies in the virtual world, what happens to his real body?
Just then, he recalled the last words the doctor said before entering here: 'Try not to die. In there, it'll be for real.'
This had to have been a joke. This was just a virtual world, right?
As the man beat on him more, the pain increased ever so much, and the thought of him dying for real settled in. This wasn't a game anymore; this was his life, his very existence on the line.
The burly laughed, a cruel sound that scraped against Arthur's raw nerves.
"Kid really thinks he's a hero! Didn't your mommy ever teach you not to interfere with your elders?"
Arthur remained on the ground, gasping for breath. Denial warred with horrifying clarity. Dr. Kapoor hadn't been lying. The pain, the fear—it was all real. This wasn't a game; it was life or death.
"That girl's my slave," he said, jerking his thumb towards the whimpering girl. "Bought and paid for by some folks back at the Leaf Village. Property dispute, you see."
Arthur's stomach churned. He had never read about slaves. But even so, a slave? This wasn't some heroic rescue mission; it was a glimpse into the dark underbelly of the ninja world.
Shame and anger bubbled within him, momentarily eclipsing the throbbing pain in his body.
This Leaf Village ninja, the supposed symbol of good, was a monster, a sinner masquerading in a virtual world. This couldn't be Dr. Kapoor's intention, could it? Was the entire world like this, a breeding ground for corruption and cruelty?
The man turned to leave, his hand reaching for something on his belt. Arthur's eye caught a glint of medal—a kunai, the standard weapon for a ninja—hanging from the man's pouch. Desperation ignited.
Arthur lunged, heaving himself off the ground, his world swaying with the effort. The man, caught off guard, barely reacted in time. Arthur snatched the kunai from its holster, the clothed metal cold against his trembling hand. With a primal scream, Arthur plunged the kunai forward, aiming for the man's skull!
A sickening crunch was heard as it pierced right through.
The girl screamed, a high-pitched sound that tore through the clearing. Arthur stared at the fallen figure, nausea filling his insides.
He hadn't meant to kill, but the desperation of the situation had left him with no other choice. It was a virtual game, right? Yet the weight of his actions settled upon him like a leaden cloak, chilling him to the bone.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, blurring his vision. He looked at his hands; blood smeared all over them. His eyes widened with disbelief and a mixture of fear. The girl he'd purportedly saved had a look of shock, not at all one of gratitude.
As he readied himself to help the girl, three figures clad in worn leather vests appeared. Their faces were obscured by ragged hoods.
'Bandits?' Arthur thought, feeling a cold dread.
"Easy there, partner," their leader called out. "Seems we've stumbled upon something unpleasant."
Arthur's gaze darted between the bandits and the Leaf ninja's lifeless form. The girl huddled behind him, whimpering softly. Explaining the situation wouldn't be easy, but he had to try.
"There's been a misunderstanding," he stammered in a hoarse voice. "He was attacking the girl, and I..." The words stuck in his throat. How could he explain taking a life, even a virtual one, for these strangers?
The bandits didn't seem interested in explanations. Their eyes narrowed beneath the hoods, fixated on the dead ninja and the blood staining Arthur's hand. One of the bandits whispered something to their leader, pointing at the dead ninja.
"A Leaf ninja, you say?" their leader drawled before returning his gaze to Arthur. "Looks like you've made a name for yourself, kid. Killing a Leaf shinobi? That's a bold move in the Fire Country!"
Arthur shook his head as he desperately pleaded, "No, you don't understand. He was going to rape the slave and—"
A strangled cry from the girl cut him off. She stepped out from behind him, shrieking, "He's lying!" Arthur watched as she pointed an accusing finger at him. "He's the slave who attacked me! He killed the ninja who was trying to help!"
The world seemed to tilt on its axis.
Disbelief choked the air from Arthur's lungs. This girl, whom he'd just tried to save, was now turning on him, weaving a web of lies designed to save her own skin.
Was it because she was a slave and didn't want to be one anymore? He couldn't tell anymore. Primal rage threatened to consume him.
"You lying little—!" but the shout died in his threat as the leader of the bandits chuckled.
"Looks like we have a clear culprit," the bandit said. "We can't have this criminal go unpunished, can we, boys?"
The other two bandits grunted in agreement, their hands hovering near the weapons strapped to their hips. Arthur was trapped between a rock and a hard place. The girl's lie condemned him, while the truth, the act of taking a life, painted him as a villain regardless.
The adrenaline he'd displayed earlier finally took its toll. He felt nauseous, as if about to throw up. His body ached everywhere. This was too real.
"We'll take you in," the leader announced, a glint of avarice flashing in his eyes. "For killing a shinobi, a Leaf shinobi at best, there's a hefty price on the black market. Consider yourself… valuable cargo now."
Despair threatened to drown Arthur as the bandits advanced. He had just escaped the clutches of a corrupt ninja, only to fall prey to these ruthless opportunists.
The hope of proving himself and forging a path in this new world had been extinguished in a horrifying instant.
Mustering every ounce of his remaining strength, Arthur prepared to run away in a desperate bid for escape. But before he could take a single step, a blur of movement filled his vision. The bandit leader, with inhuman speed, appeared directly in front of him.
A fist, impossibly fast and powerful, connected with Arthur's jaw. The world exploded into a kaleidoscope of pain.
And then darkness.