The dungeon was dark, devoid of any stray light, and the air was thick with a damp, stifling humidity. Moss and mold clung to the walls... Ever since he'd woken up a month ago, this unchanging scenery had been his entire world.
He should have been dead. He knew he should have been dead. Yet, somehow, he'd opened his eyes again.
The square, enclosed space he found himself in was cramped. Aside from a barred iron gate at the front, thick earth surrounded him on all sides. Inside, the only furnishings were a low cot and a toilet... Without a doubt, this was a prison cell, deep underground.
Confined to this sunless cell for a month since his "rebirth," the information he'd managed to gather was severely limited. In short, he only knew a few things: First, his name was now "Habara." Second, he was in the world of "Naruto." Third, the person controlling this dungeon was named Orochimaru.
The whole situation was bizarre. Even if a dead person could open their eyes again, shouldn't he be in a hospital, a morgue, a crematorium, or a grave – one of those four? Why a dungeon, and in another world, no less?
But no matter how unacceptable it was, reality was reality. A month was enough time for him to build the necessary mental fortitude... Even if it was a forced, reluctant acceptance, it was acceptance nonetheless.
Muscle memory guided his right hand to his lower back. With a faint metallic clink, he drew a black, dagger-short, uniquely wedge-shaped metal weapon from behind him: a kunai.
His eyes had long since adjusted to the dimness. Using the reflected light off the kunai's blade, he confirmed his current appearance – a young man with ash-gray, medium-length hair and eyes that gleamed with a lead-gray metallic sheen.
Or perhaps "middle schooler" was more accurate?
Despite his unkempt appearance, he could still roughly gauge his age... He seemed to be only fourteen or fifteen years old.
This was clearly not his body, but… it was him.
He would have to use the name "Habara," for now.
Since he was imprisoned here, it stood to reason that "Habara" was a ninja in this world. Unfortunately, he hadn't retained a single memory from the original owner, leaving him completely lacking in any specialized knowledge or skills.
Just as Habara was pondering how to escape his current predicament, distinct footsteps echoed from the long corridor outside his cell. Simultaneously, a strange atmosphere began to prickle his senses – a cold, cruel air emanated from the end of the passage.
It felt as if some large, slithering creature was slowly leaving its lair.
Then, the steady, rhythmic footsteps abruptly stopped. A figure blocked the entrance to his cell... The sound of the footsteps had seemed much further away, yet somehow, the person had appeared here instantly.
A pale hand held an oil lamp. The quietly flickering flame cast twisting, ever-shifting shadows on the wall behind it.
A man with long black hair, pale skin, and purple eyeshadow painted on his face stood outside the cell. A hoarse, dry voice, tinged with a low, amused chuckle, followed:
"Good vigilance."
For someone who desperately lacked a sense of security, vigilance was practically a given...
The person who had appeared was none other than the renowned and powerful ninja of the shinobi world, Orochimaru.
"Your name… I believe it was 'Habara,' wasn't it? Hmm, in terms of chakra strength, you're only at a Chunin level. You hail from a small, exiled ninja clan, one that is now nearly extinct… But that's not surprising. Most small ninja clans in the shinobi world meet a similar fate.
What's strange is that you were being hunted by Sunagakure, one of the Five Great Ninja Villages, until about ten years ago. Because of that, I haven't been able to gather any specific information about your clan, other than that you specialize in a secret technique called 'Inji no Jutsu' (Attraction Technique).
Of course, none of that, nor your previous identity, matters… Now you have only one identity: my 'test subject'."
Facing a mad scientist, there's one kind of fear when they don't treat you like a human being at all. But there's another, entirely different kind of fear when they can rattle off the name, origin, and current status of every single "lab rat," regardless of whether that rat is important or not.
More importantly, Orochimaru was speaking the truth. A test subject was just a test subject. In Orochimaru's presence, Habara couldn't even speak normally. He could only lower his head, feigning the appearance of listening intently.
Fortunately, Orochimaru seemed to be just passing by. After a brief, idle chat, he left.
Habara had no idea how the original owner of this body had fallen into Orochimaru's hands. But it was certain that he would be forced to participate in one, or perhaps several, of Orochimaru's experiments. Even more unfortunately, all of Orochimaru's experiments were highly lethal.
Rebirth was a joyous occasion, unless you were going to die again shortly after. He'd spent the last few years of his previous life struggling with severe illness. Therefore, having miraculously obtained a second life, he would not give up, no matter what.
So, without a doubt, Habara needed an escape plan.
The problem was, how? He felt utterly lost, with no idea where to even begin. Blind action would only lead to a faster death. Putting aside the fact that he didn't know any ninja skills, even if he could utilize this body's full potential, how could an ordinary ninja possibly escape from one of the "Legendary Sannin," Orochimaru?
He checked himself over again, reaching the same, disappointing conclusion: He couldn't see any kind of status screen, he wasn't wearing any rings, and he couldn't hear any system sound effects.
Well, that was to be expected. Those things were a bit too unscientific…
Habara then began to organize some more realistic thoughts.
Although he had no memories of this body, fortunately, physical objects didn't just disappear. He could feel a special energy circulating within him. That was probably the legendary chakra. But how to use this special power? It didn't seem like something he could figure out through sheer guesswork.
This was truly…
A man trapped in the game, stuck within the game.
Before he knew it, two hours had passed. Another ninja, a woman wearing black clothing and a mask, arrived at Habara's cell door.
This ninja was named "Hotaru," and she was the actual manager of the prisoners in this dungeon. Her most important job was to deliver food to the prisoners, preventing them from starving to death.
However, she wasn't here to deliver food this time. She directly opened Habara's cell door.
"Please check your ninja tools, and then follow me," she said to Habara after the creaking sound of the cell door opening.
"...What's going on?" Habara instinctively asked. Obviously, opening the cell door didn't mean he was being released.
But the other ninja simply looked at him, offering no response.
"Alright…" Habara stood up and obediently followed behind her.
As they passed by the other cells, the half-dead prisoners within showed no interest in the occasional passerby. When they reached the end of the corridor, a relatively spacious, circular area came into view.
The female ninja stepped aside, gesturing for Habara to enter while saying, "We're here."
Under the harsh light from above, the dried, brown patches on the floor and walls were particularly glaring. In an instant, Habara understood what this place was – an arena, or more accurately, a "colosseum."
However, Habara had no choice but to comply. There was no room to hesitate. He took a deep breath and stepped inside.
The door behind him closed with a heavy thud.
Habara wasn't alone. On the opposite side of the arena, another person was already waiting… It wasn't hard to guess what was about to happen. The cruelty of this world was being displayed in a simple, brutal manner.
The overhead lights illuminated every corner of the arena, but made it impossible to see what was above. However, it was clear that someone was watching from up there, because Orochimaru's voice soon echoed down:
"The rules are simple… Only one of you will survive."
This senseless, meaningless killing certainly didn't align with modern sensibilities. Nevertheless, Orochimaru's voice was the signal for the fight to begin!
Before Habara could even mentally prepare himself, the person who had been standing on the opposite side of the arena was suddenly in front of him, in the blink of an eye.
Physically, this man was clearly much larger than Habara. At this moment, Habara desperately wanted to "forfeit" – a heavyweight fighting a lightweight? The fight was utterly unfair.
Unfortunately, no one else cared about fairness, because this wasn't a competition at all.
Habara's racing thoughts were cut short. The man had rushed at him with incredible speed, stopping abruptly before swinging a single-handed blade in a horizontal slash aimed at his waist.
The unfairness was escalating. The opponent was wielding a controlled blade that was eighty or ninety centimeters long. In comparison, the kunai Habara had was little more than a small awl.
Habara's mind was that of a weak modern man, completely ignorant of fighting techniques. His body and reflexes, however, seemed to act before his conscious mind could. Faced with the enemy's sudden attack, he shifted his weight onto his right foot, lowered his center of gravity, and bent his back significantly, leaping backward in a large arc… Though he stumbled, he managed to dodge the attack.
A ninja's reflexes were clearly different from a normal person's.
Habara's heart pounded with lingering fear. He slowly raised his head to look at his opponent, his gaze meeting the man's fierce, frenzied, and murderous eyes.
Although he had no desire to participate in this fight, Habara now knew he had to protect himself… Since it was a fight, he had to do something.
Thinking this, Habara pulled out a kunai from behind him, took a few glances at his opponent, and threw it with all his might! To his credit, his aim was quite good. The kunai flew in a straight line, at high speed, directly towards the man's head.
But the attack was too linear. The enemy simply tilted his head slightly and dodged it.
The next instant, the enemy was in front of Habara again. He took a step forward, hooking Habara's ankle in a very direct manner.
This prevented Habara from dodging flexibly.
From their brief exchange, the enemy had correctly concluded that Habara was a complete amateur! Therefore, he could afford to be bolder and more reckless in his attacks.
After restricting Habara's movement in such a forward manner, he immediately slashed again, aiming for Habara's neck… This time, Habara couldn't retreat to evade.
Death was shockingly close! Realizing this, Habara couldn't tell if his mind was going blank or racing at high speed. His breathing evened out, his heart rate accelerated, and his adrenaline levels spiked!
In that critical moment, Habara's metallic-colored eyes reflected the cold, sharp glint of the blade as it came down, like a mirror... This instant, this tiny distance, was the dividing line between life and death.
At this moment, the opponent's movements seemed to slow down in his eyes.
Suddenly, Habara reached out with his left hand, moving far faster than the opponent's downward slash, towards the diagonal upper area. He extended his five fingers and firmly gripped the long blade that was cutting towards his neck. His pale knuckles held their shape firmly, and his burning fingertips seemed as if they could melt steel, gradually sinking into the blade's surface.
It seemed like the sharp blade would sever Habara's fingers in the next instant, but…
It was held fast, unable to move an inch.
The scene froze momentarily.
But if this stalemate continued, the one holding the weapon would undoubtedly be in the stronger position.
Habara needed to do something else.
And as he thought this, a strange sensation spread from his body.
Habara instinctively waved his hand. The kunai he had thrown earlier, which had already fallen to the ground, suddenly flew back at a speed far exceeding its initial throw. It pierced the opponent's right abdomen like an armor-piercing round.
The sudden, sharp pain caused the man to loosen his grip slightly. But before he could react to what had happened, Habara's lowered right hand had already hooked two kunai from the ninja tool pouch on the opponent's leg.
Habara's arm moved upward rapidly. He first thrust a kunai deep into the opponent's right thigh, causing him to stumble. Then, as his arm passed over the enemy's shoulder, he held the kunai horizontally, almost instinctively preparing to thrust it hard into the opponent's neck.
A soft neck would be no harder to pierce than a muscle-covered leg, but it was undoubtedly more lethal.
However, just as Habara was about to end his opponent's life, he suddenly woke up as if from a dream… Although someone wanted him to perform in a gladiatorial show, he didn't want to acknowledge that will.
The escape plan was far off, but this small act of defiance was within reach.
So, Habara forcefully changed the direction of his attack. The kunai, originally aimed at the enemy's neck, instead plunged down into the space between his collarbones… Well, it seemed that it was not any better than stabbing the neck?
Blood spurted from the opponent's body, splattering onto Habara. The viscous sensation and the smell of blood jolted him. He quickly released his grip and retreated.
Even if it wasn't "death," "victory" should be enough to satisfy Orochimaru, right?
Severely injured, the enemy's body swayed a few times. He first knelt on the ground, then lowered his head to look at his abdomen, seemingly unable to comprehend how he had been so badly wounded.
Then, he seemed to find the answer, and finally collapsed to the ground.
"Shuriken manipulation…"
Unfortunately, it was a misjudgment. Hidden above, observing everything, Orochimaru smiled silently.
He now understood why Sunagakure had pursued that unknown clan.
"Magnet Release…"
"Hehe…"
It seemed he had obtained a valuable "experimental material."