new Ninja

"So, being a Chunin in Konoha isn't so bad after all." 

Given his current status and income, if he compared it to his past life, he'd be the equivalent of a high-ranking corporate drone in one of the five major superpowers—the kind that wouldn't get easily laid off, working until he dropped dead. 

The only downside? Just like those corporate slaves, the risk of sudden death was absurdly high. 

"But I don't want to die young." 

No, he had to master a few high-level jutsu. The shinobi world was just too dangerous. Knowing only the Three Basic Techniques and a single C-rank Water Release: Water Prison Jutsu gave him zero sense of security. 

This body's natural chakra affinity was only Water. Thanks to his strong mental energy, his chakra control wasn't bad. If he could develop a second chakra nature, it might solve his severe chakra shortage problem. 

But the real question was—how the hell was he supposed to unlock another chakra nature? 

He had no idea. Damn jutsu monopolies. 

No matter where he went, he couldn't escape the chokehold of restricted upward mobility and rigid class structures. 

In the end, it all circled back to risking his life for Konoha, grinding through high-rank missions to earn enough merit points to exchange for jutsu. 

Wasn't this just like selling his blood for a slim chance at climbing the social ladder? And the worst part? Most people didn't even get that opportunity. 

Damn this shinobi world. Damn Hiruzen Sarutobi. The system was meticulously designed to keep civilian shinobi in check—yet another monopoly. Why didn't he apply the same restrictions to the clan-born shinobi? Oh right, because civilian shinobi were easier to control. 

He knew all about the overt and covert privileges given to clan kids. 

Take Inuzuka Ryou from his squad, for example—a young master from a minor branch of the Inuzuka clan. 

The Inuzuka weren't a top-tier clan like the Uchiha or Senju, not even second-tier. They were solidly mid-rank. 

But even a mid-tier clan came with perks. The biggest one? No struggle to learn jutsu. Ryou could easily access his clan's secret techniques, perfectly tailored for him. 

No need to risk his life for mission points. 

And the Inuzuka's techniques weren't just combat-effective—they also had exceptional sensory abilities. 

Shinobi were glass cannons—high attack, low defense. Battles often came down to intel. Knowing your enemy's moves meant controlling their life. 

This wasn't just true for individual fights—even large-scale wars were won through critical intelligence. 

As an Inuzuka, Ryou had solid sensory skills, making him an invaluable scout. 

His presence alone had already diluted the "cannon fodder" purity of their squad. 

Logically, someone like Ryou—a clan-born sensory ninja—shouldn't have ended up in his squad. 

But as it turned out, the wisdom of his ancestors' philosophy applied everywhere. 

Ryou was only here because he'd gifted a Wind Country wakizashi to a certain Nara strategist after some… friendly negotiations. 

The wakizashi wasn't anything special—certainly not high-grade by Konoha standards. But Suna was poor. Despite all the minerals mined in Wind Country, their shinobi tools were the shabbiest among the Five Great Nations. 

Konoha's cannon fodder might bleed on the battlefield, but at least their families got death benefits. War orphans could live decently—unless someone decided to mess with them. 

But Suna shinobi? They bled and cried. Their village was treated like a stepchild, and the lower ranks had it even worse. Just thinking about it was enough to make you weep. 

So, capturing a custom Suna blade was an achievement—one that carried honor. 

Even on the black market, it'd fetch a premium, especially with the deliberate nick he'd added to the blade. 

A masterstroke, really. Elevated its honor value. 

Of course, thinking a single wakizashi could buy a Nara strategist's favor? That'd be underestimating Konoha's elite clans. 

An average cannon-fodder Chunin could grovel all he wanted—most high-ranking clan shinobi wouldn't even glance his way. 

The Nara might seem easygoing, but their political instincts were razor-sharp. Ruthlessly pragmatic. 

If he weren't part of the Sarutobi faction—naturally aligned with the Ino-Shika-Cho—a nobody civilian Chunin like him would never have gotten close to a Nara strategist. 

The Nara were one of the most politically astute clans in the shinobi world. Their subtle support for the Third Hokage's faction was everywhere. 

Effortless. Invisible. 

The fact that he'd been assigned to the River Country front—patrol duty instead of the meat grinder in Rain Country—wasn't just luck. It was political. Believing in pure chance was less plausible than the Nara strategist taking a liking to his handsome face. 

Unless… was it because his squad had been wiped out two and a half times and he still hadn't lost any limbs? Maybe his survival skills impressed them? 

For the Nara strategist, assigning Ryou to his squad was a trivial favor. 

A casual move on the board. 

But for Team Umino's patrol unit? It was life-changing. 

He'd put in serious effort to keep Ryou—a somewhat naive clan kid—permanently in his squad. 

Unfortunately, while Ryou wasn't as arrogant as most clan heirs, he still had that rigid, rule-bound mindset. 

The good part? He didn't need to establish authority—just give orders. Ryou obeyed without question. 

The bad part? If the Inuzuka clan or a superior called, Ryou could be reassigned instantly. 

He'd assumed Ryou would be transferred soon… until the squad's most unremarkable new member, Koshou, effortlessly captured him. 

Koshou wasn't some beauty—just a 12-year-old, 4'3", 200-pound ball of sunshine. Her chakra nature was rare (Lightning), and she knew the Three Basics plus a D-rank Lightning Release. 

Her skills were decent but unexceptional—a standard civilian ninja with no family name, meaning no hidden bloodline. 

But her optimism, kindness, and sheer charisma turned even her weight into an advantage. Within half a day of joining, she'd won over Ryou's ninken, Akitarou. 

Maybe the young master was tired of luxury and preferred something simpler—within a week, he'd fallen for Koshou. By the second week, he'd turned into a full-blown simp. 

Almost like Akitarou's influence. 

If he didn't know better, he'd think the Inuzuka's Beast Mimicry training had side effects. 

But alas—unrequited love. 

Koshou's heart belonged to another squad member: Shukudou, whose tank-like build dwarfed even hers. 

Shukudou was one of his few surviving veterans, handpicked after a Sand puppet master wiped out yet another batch of his subordinates. 

Of course, clan kids and prodigies were way out of his recruitment range. 

Shukudou's talent was average—Fire and Earth chakra natures, but only the Three Basics for ninjutsu. 

The real reason he'd chosen him? 

Shukudou had mastered an incredible secret art: 

Money Release.