The pain felt like torture, but I somehow survived. My body felt like it had been broken and rebuilt, little by little. I couldn't move for hours, but when I finally regained control, something about me felt different.
I sat up in bed, my body was heavy but… stronger? My muscles were sore, but there was a firmness and volume that wasn't there before. I flexed my arms and realized that the "penalty" had actually made me stronger. This game was brutal, but it had its perks.
So, even penalties had their rewards? I couldn't help but smile. If this was how this game worked, then I could handle the pain. Pain is something I was familiar with.
But still… I'd have to stay on top of these daily objectives. No sense in suffering more than I had to.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up, feeling the stiffness of my muscles, yet they responded to my commands. It was still early, and I had time before training with my father. I glanced out the window. The Hanzo estate stretched wide, a maze of traditional buildings and courtyards surrounded by a beautiful landscape. Cherry blossom trees dotted the grounds, their pink petals drifting in the breeze, the opposite to the rigorous life of a shinobi. This was the world I now lived in—a world that balanced beauty with danger, tradition with ambition.
I grabbed a cloth to wipe sweat from my face. I needed to prepare for whatever my father had planned for me. I wasn't some helpless child, no matter how young this body was. I've been trained in a world where life and death were everyday realities. No matter what challenges lie ahead, I would have to overcome them.
As I left my room and headed towards the training grounds, I couldn't help but think about the scroll. The Yamigan—whatever it was—had granted me its power. But I still didn't know what that power was or how to use it.
"Takeda!" A voice called from behind me.
I turned to see my father approaching, his tall figure showing a shadow over the training grounds. His expression was stern, pride filled his eyes
"Good, you're early. A true shinobi always arrives before the appointed time." he said, nodding in approval.
I bowed slightly, playing as the obedient son but I'm also grateful. "I'm ready to begin."
"We'll see" he replied with a grin. "Today, you begin your journey as a shinobi. Before we dive into any other power, you must first train your body and mind."
I nodded, though I couldn't help but feel impatient. I wanted to master the Yamigan, but I understood the importance of the basics. A weak foundation would crumble under the weight of its true power.
"Let's begin with physical training." he said, motioning for me to follow him.
We started with simple exercises—at least they would've been simple for the old me. But this eleven-year-old body wasn't used to the intensity. My muscles burned as I pushed through countless sets of push-ups, sit-ups, and squats. Sweat dripped down my face as I fought to keep up with my father's commands.
On the bright side… I'm able to knock out the daily objectives.
"Come on, Takeda! You want to master the shinobi arts, don't you?" he yelled.
I grunted in response, forcing my body to keep moving. I wasn't going to show weakness. Not in front of him.
After what felt like hours of grueling exercises, we moved on to agility drills. My father set up an obstacle course filled with ropes, logs, and narrow beams. It was made to test a ninja's speed and balance. I had done things like this before in my past life, but this body couldn't keep up. I tripped over ropes, missed jumps, and nearly fell off the beams multiple times.
"Focus, Takeda! A shinobi's greatest asset is his ability to move without being seen or heard!" my father scolded, his tone was more instructional than angry.
Each failure made me curse under my breath, but I refused to let it break me down. I had trained under far worse conditions. This was nothing.
By midday, my entire body felt like it had been through a meat grinder, but my father didn't seem ready to stop. He handed me a wooden sword.
"Now, we train in the art of kenjutsu." he said, drawing his wooden blade. "You may not always need a sword, but a shinobi must be proficient in all forms of combat."
We squared off, and the moment he stepped forward, I realized how vast the gap between us was. His movements were precise, calculated. Each strike came at me with speed and accuracy I couldn't match. I barely managed to block his attacks, and when I tried to counter, he parried the attack, effortlessly.
"Don't just react. Predict!" he shouted as he swept my legs out from under me. I hit the ground hard, but quickly got back up.
I was frustrated. In my previous life, I had mastered dozens of forms of combat. But in this body, I was clumsy, slow, and weak. Yet, I couldn't let that frustration control me. I had to adapt. That's what an assassin does—adapt to any situation, no matter how dire.
We continued sparring for what felt like an eternity. My father's strikes were relentless, but I started to notice patterns in his movements. His stance would change slightly before a powerful strike, his eyes would flicker toward an opening just before he attacked. It wasn't long before I started predicting his moves, just as he had instructed.
I parried a downward strike, then twisted to avoid a follow-up slash. My movements were becoming smoother, more fluid. I could feel the assassin's instincts resurfacing. In my past life, I relied on precision and patience, and now I was bringing that back into this body.
"Good." my father said after I managed to block three consecutive strikes. "You're improving. But don't get cocky."
And just like that, he disarmed me with a single, swift motion, his wooden sword resting against my throat.
I gritted my teeth. "I wasn't, Father."
He smiled, stepping back. "That's enough for today."
I exhaled deeply, relieved that the training was over, though my muscles screamed in protest. I wiped the sweat from my brow, knowing that this was only the beginning. If I wanted to master the Yamigan, I needed to push this body to its limits and beyond.
As we finished up, I heard that familiar ding.
<+100 XP.>
So, the system rewards me for training? Interesting. It was as if the more I better this body, the stronger it became in both physical and the game.
My father gave me a nod of approval. "Tomorrow, we'll continue with Ki and stealth techniques. But for now, rest. You've earned it."
Ki? Interesting. I'll learn more about it tomorrow.
I bowed. "Thank you, Father."
As I made my way back to my room, I couldn't help but think about the progress I was making. This body might be weak now, but that would change. I'd make sure of it. And with the power of the Yamigan at my disposal, the world wouldn't know what hit it.
Lying down, I opened my inventory once again and stared at the "Absolute Restoration" elixir. I wouldn't need it yet, but it was comforting to know I had it for when things got tough.
This body is still young… with the knowledge of my previous life—- I can guarantee fast growth.