But those good days didn't last more than a few years.
No one knows what got into Hanzō of the Salamander's head, but in an act of incredible audacity, he took the initiative to provoke a war, intending to single-handedly take on the great ninja nations.
Ōnoki, the Third Tsuchikage of Iwagakure, was cunning. His political statements were loud, but his actions were few. He merely deployed troops to the border of the Land of Rain without directly intervening. The Sand Village, on the other hand, had long desired a war and seized the opportunity to invade, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.
As the dominant power of the shinobi world, Konoha could not allow its neighbor to grow stronger. To maintain peace—and, of course, to defend its own interests—it also sent its armies.
Thus, a chaotic three-way battlefield formed in the Land of Rain among the ninja of Rain, Sand, and Konoha.
Initially, Sunagakure profited greatly, but after being halted by Hanzō and Konoha, they changed their strategy. Having long coveted the fertile land of the Land of Fire, they opened a new battlefront in the Land of Rivers, intending to invade from the east.
It was then that the original Sasuke, alongside Konoha's army, was sent to that front.
After holding out on the battlefield for over half a year, he finally could not avoid the Sage of Six Paths' call. He was gravely wounded by a strike from a Sand Puppet Master, and it was in that near-death experience that I arrived in this world.
Fortunately, I spent my first week in the Konoha Hospital, recovering. Otherwise, for a novice like me, who had never even killed a chicken, being thrown directly onto the battlefield would have been suicide.
Before reincarnating, I was a typical corporate drone, used to a monotonous and exhausting life of overwork. My transmigration was just as ordinary: I fell asleep from the fatigue of overtime and, upon waking, I was Umino Sasuke.
I wasn't a Konoha orphan; I had parents and siblings. However, I was the only ninja in the family. I inherited my predecessor's memories and emotions, which allowed me to quickly master his skills during my recovery. Without that, without any special advantage or killer instinct, I wouldn't have lasted at all.
Although my mental power increased considerably after the transition and my chakra nearly doubled, reaching a level of control comparable to some medical-nin, my body's limitations were clear. I was born to a civilian family, with an average bloodline and talent. My limit was that of a chūnin.
If I had arrived a few years earlier, if my predecessor hadn't consumed so many Hyōrōgan pills to accelerate his growth, if he hadn't exhausted his potential in his rush for success, perhaps I would have had the chance to become a jōnin through the trials of war. But now, this body had already matured, and its potential was practically depleted. Significantly improving my chakra or physical abilities was nearly impossible, unless I mastered Orochimaru's technology or underwent some kind of mutation.
Although I didn't finish watching "Naruto" in my previous life, I knew the general plot. The series might as well be called "The Legend of the Eyes," "My Dad is the Sage of Six Paths," or "Black Zetsu's Never-Ending Soap Opera to Revive His Mom." It all revolved around bloodline fatalism. It looked like a story of overcoming hardship, but at its core, it was dark and cruel.
Arriving in the real world of Naruto, I felt that this obsession with lineage wasn't just an Ōtsutsuki thing; it permeated the ninja clans, civilians, and even the nobles.
Take Umino Iruka's family, for example, who shared the same origin as mine. They were also vassals of the Sarutobi clan and came from the same small village. But since Iruka's family was part of the first generation of Konoha immigrants, they not only got a half-priced house from the Senju in a prime location, but Iruka's father also managed to marry a teammate from a minor ninja clan, thereby improving the genes of the next generation. His posthumous son, Umino Iruka, was born a second-generation ninja, destined for the Academy's elite class.
In comparison, I was a first-generation ninja. My family had to sacrifice everything just so I could barely get into an ordinary Academy class. Upon graduating, Iruka was assigned to a team led by a jōnin, while I had to follow a chūnin captain, gaining experience through low-level tasks.
I struggled, consumed Hyōrōgan pills, and survived countless dangers to finally become a chūnin. It seemed like I had caught up, but in reality, the gap between us only grew wider.
Although we are both chūnin, our status and futures are worlds apart. Umino Iruka is now a member of an elite unit under the Third Hokage's direct command. His future is bright; it's almost certain he'll become a jōnin after the war. In contrast, I'm lucky if I survive. Becoming a jōnin is a distant dream. The mere act of obtaining new ninjutsu is an almost insurmountable obstacle.
In this world, ninjutsu is power, and its transmission is basically through blood inheritance or marriage. Monopoly and class consolidation are everywhere, and the worst part is that almost everyone accepts it as natural.
As a transmigrator, I theoretically know how to practice the Rasengan, but it's an A-rank ninjutsu. I'm not someone with massive chakra reserves, nor are they of exceptional quality. My chakra, barely higher than a standard chūnin's, would be almost entirely consumed performing a B-rank jutsu. Trying to learn the Rasengan would likely destroy me.
It's well known that it's difficult even for a jōnin to master a B-rank jutsu. Kage-level ninja typically use B-rank jutsu in combat, reserving A-rank as trump cards. S-rank forbidden jutsu are for life-or-death situations.
One should not underestimate jōnin. They are the true elite, the aristocracy of the ninja world. They have power, privileges, and even the right to vote for the Hokage. For a civilian family, having a chūnin son is already a resounding success. Having a jōnin is an event that founds a dynasty, the birth of a new ninja clan.
For most civilians, becoming Hokage is an empty slogan. The real dream, the realistic goal, is to become a jōnin.
And that dream is nearly unattainable. Only the villagers of Konoha, living in the most prosperous city in the world, can afford to have such aspirations. Most civilians outside these walls only dream of having food on the table and a safe roof over their heads. If they live in a place like the Land of Rain, I'm afraid their only dream is to be able to emigrate.