The bright moon hung high in the sky, stars twinkling like scattered jewels.
At the border of the Land of Wind stood a small, unremarkable nation.
Within one of its dojos—
"4997… 4998… 4999… 5000."
Beneath a cherry blossom tree, a young man wielded a katana, swinging it over and over again. Each sharp slash stirred a gentle breeze, lifting fallen petals into the air.
He wore a simple black kimono, his long jet-black hair cascading like a waterfall, casually draped over his shoulders. His features were striking and elegant, his build tall and slender.
Judging by appearance alone, he was the type that girls would find irresistibly attractive—but the cold arrogance exuding from his entire being left people in awed silence.
His name was Uchiha Aki. He had transmigrated into the world of Naruto as one of the surviving members of the Uchiha clan. Now seventeen years old, he was currently an "S-rank" rogue ninja, wanted by Konohagakure.
Ding—
"Ten million sword swings complete. Swordmaster template unlocked."
"You have received: 50% of Fujitora Issho's strength from the One Piece world."
"You have received: Shunpo from the Bleach world."
"You have received: Demon Blade — First Generation Kitetsu from the One Piece world. Usable ghost energy. Usage limit depends on the host's willpower."
The mechanical voice of the Swordmaster System faded away without a trace.
"Fujitora Issho, huh?" Aki murmured as a ghostly katana appeared in his hand, pulsing with eerie energy. He slowly closed his eyes, feeling the overwhelming power coursing through him. For the first time in a long while, a smile crept onto his lips—even he couldn't help feeling excited.
After all, he had spent three long years swinging a sword ten thousand times every day, from dawn till dusk, alone in the courtyard.
Day after day, without end. Only someone with a calm and unwavering heart like Aki—someone who had lived two lifetimes—could endure such a monotonous grind.
But what truly drove Uchiha Aki to persist wasn't patience or discipline.
It was the burning ambition and hatred swelling inside him.
He sheathed the First Generation Kitetsu at his waist and stood beneath the cherry tree. The cool night wind stirred his waterfall-like hair as memories of the night his clan was massacred flashed through his mind.
That night, he was powerless to stop the tragedy.
His sister, Uchiha Nan, used the last of her strength to help him escape that hellish battlefield.
Though only seventeen, Aki's strength had long surpassed that of an average jōnin.
After all, he possessed a pair of Mangekyō Sharingan—eyes that awakened the moment he watched his sister die before him.
Now, with Fujitora's power combined with his Mangekyō Sharingan, his strength could no longer be measured by ordinary standards.
"Hah…" Aki exhaled deeply. As he slowly opened his eyes, the deep black of his irises turned scarlet—three tomoe swirling within. His hand rested on his katana's hilt, his gaze cold and indifferent, as if looking upon the world with disdain.
Sister... I will fulfill our childhood dream. I will end this war-torn shinobi world.
And then—I will bring you back to life.
That was the source of his strength—his only obsession, his only ambition.
Aki slowly drew the First Generation Kitetsu. The blade shimmered with a deadly light, engraved with purple demonic flames and exuding a sinister aura.
As the cursed blade left its sheath, it began to tremble violently. A wisp of ghostly energy emerged, coiling around Aki's hand. The buzzing sword seemed to whisper:
[Without strength, don't even think of wielding me.]
"A fine blade indeed… but to think such feeble energy dares to defy me? Absurd." Aki's Mangekyō Sharingan narrowed, and with a single gaze, the ghostly aura dispersed. The rebellious blade slowly calmed.
Sheathing the Kitetsu once more, Aki turned and began walking toward the house.
But then—he sensed it.
Killing intent.
Ever since receiving Fujitora's powers, Aki's sensory perception had reached an unimaginable level. Even the faintest trace of hostility could not escape him.
"If you want to kill me, just do it. Why sneak around like rats in the shadows?" He didn't even look back. His thumb gently pushed the hilt of his blade, and an overwhelming force of gravity suddenly descended over the entire compound.
No whetstone? Then let these vermin serve as test subjects for this power.
BOOM—
A crushing, invisible force shook the entire courtyard. Houses and trees collapsed, the ground split with deep cracks.
Several figures were thrown violently to the ground. No matter how hard they struggled, they could not rise against the oppressive weight. They lay prone, like dogs with nowhere to run.
The masked ninja exchanged glances, their hearts filled with shock and disbelief.
What is this gravity? We've never seen such a technique!
Could it be a kekkei genkai?
But that doesn't make sense—Aki already possesses Uchiha blood. How could he possibly have a second kekkei genkai?
Though rare, it wasn't unheard of for someone to have two kekkei genkai. Still, intelligence reports claimed Uchiha Aki was only at chūnin or, at most, jōnin level.
But the power he had just shown utterly crushed several elite jōnin-level ANBU in an instant. His strength now… was at least elite jōnin!
Could the intel have been wrong?
"Konoha ANBU, huh? Whose dogs are you? Hiruzen's?" Aki finally turned around, his scarlet Sharingan locking coldly onto the fallen ANBU.
After a moment of thought, he sneered.
"Danzo's, I presume."
Though Hiruzen Sarutobi had also sent ANBU to hunt him down, the chakra these ninjas carried was heavy and murky—far more in line with Shimura Danzo's style.
Not to mention, Danzo had long coveted Aki's Sharingan, and had dispatched countless ANBU over the years to seize it.
Even though Aki's eyes appeared to be ordinary three-tomoe Sharingan, they harbored immense power within. That fact alone made Danzo restless with greed.
"If we die here, Lord Danzo will immediately know your location," one of the ANBU rasped, lifting his head with great difficulty to face Aki. The moment their eyes met, a violent shudder ran through his body—he felt like he was staring into an abyss.
Still, he forced down his terror and sneered.
What the hell is with this kid? He's barely a teenager, and yet… he makes me, a veteran of countless life-and-death battles, feel fear?
"Trouble? You speak of trouble? Do you mean Hiruzen Sarutobi, that old relic? Or Shimura Danzo, that scheming rat? Heh…" Aki let out a cold chuckle, his Sharingan narrowing.