Naruto: Ghost Stories of the Shinobi World

I transmigrated into the Naruto world on the eve of the Uchiha Clan Massacre.

I knew Itachi would wipe out his clan, Sasuke would become a seeker of revenge, and Naruto would become Hokage.

But I never expected there to be other things lurking in the night.

They had no chakra, and sensory ninja couldn't detect them.

The Sharingan couldn't read their movements, and ninjutsu couldn't kill them.

One stood in the shadows of an alley, several bloody words floating in its eyes:

Lower Rank Six.

“You have a familiar scent.”

From that day on, the only purpose of my life was to find a way to kill demons.

Later, in the deepest part of the Land of Iron, I used a chunk of ore that had absorbed the sun's rays to forge a sword.

Its blade was dark red, its edge like the setting sun.

I named it Sun Wheel.

The demons thought the Naruto world was their hunting ground.

But they forgot.

There are people in this world who fight with nothing but their breathing and the sun, not chakra.

I'll make them remember.