A certain college guy who was obsessed with video games had just spent half an hour getting wrecked by Jamie in Street Fighter 6. Then he switched to the Naruto mobile game and got taken out three times in a row by Akatsuki Deidara. He was so furious he could barely catch his breath.
When he opened his eyes again, he was lying in a pile of bodies from the First Shinobi World War.
The good news: he’d transmigrated. The bad news: he’d become the son of a rogue ninja, with silver hair, no System, no cheats, and pockets emptier than his face was clean.
The Third Hokage was still young, Konoha had just finished a war, and the Uchiha clan had not yet been wiped out.
His name was Yagi Naoto.
His father was a genius jonin who had defected twenty-seven years ago. His mother was a medical ninja from the Uzumaki Clan. His entire family was dead, and he was the only one left.
The Third Hokage was young enough to look almost unbelievable, but made an exception and let him enter the Ninja Academy. The orphanage gave him a thin quilt, his classmate Mizuma shared a fried egg with him, and an instructor secretly handed him a yellowed notebook on taijutsu.
But it was fine. If he couldn’t skip grades, he’d train harder. If he couldn’t win, he’d take a few more falls. After all, the Naruto world had one thing in abundance: time.
...By the way, can this damn rooster stop crowing before dawn?
