I used to fantasize about transmigrating.
A domineering CEO, a mighty cultivation master, or being reborn as a rich, handsome guy… But when it finally happened to me, I got a hellish start from the start.
I opened my eyes to wooden beams overhead. The air smelled of tatami mixed with mildew, and unfamiliar memories flooded my mind like scenes from a movie.
Uchiha Ryosuke, twelve years old, enrolled at the Konoha Ninja Academy, with mediocre chakra potential.
In other words: in a clan full of geniuses, I was the pure, unadulterated sucker who stood in the back row at meetings, sat in the loneliest corner at meals, and wasn’t even told about clan gatherings.
Fine. If I was a dead-last, then so be it. I could keep my head down and grow stronger in secret.
