With Arthur's senses renewed, he could now hear a muffled conversation from behind the door. It was the guard.
"They finally found a buyer for one of the slaves… Two days, that's what they said. Less work for us, eh?"
A buyer? If Arthur was this supposed slave, there was only one explanation for things: they were going to sell him to someone random in two days.
Rather than panic, he began to think, 'Two days… I have two days left.'
The situation was far from ideal, but that amount of time was good enough. Or rather, it gave him a sense of relief. He was a Clan-less character, meaning that he had an easier time learning support techniques. What was categorized as support were things like buffing, debuffing, and best of all, healing.
Healing techniques were invaluable on the battlefield, allowing ninjas to mend wounds and restore stamina during combat. Since they weren't space-time ninjutsu (a completely different thing), they accelerated the natural healing process in the body, restoring the wounded area until it was whole again.
This was going to be Arthur's bread and butter. Because one particular technique that he remembered countless ninjas performing, even the lower-ranked ones, was the generic "Healing jutsu."
To execute certain techniques, one is required to first perform hand signs. Hand signs were hand gestures ninjas used to focus their chakra and unleash their jutsu. Each jutsu required a specific sequence of hand signs, and memorizing these sequences was crucial.
Skilled ninjas, however, could use fewer or even no hand signs for the same jutsu, which also showed off their control. Some rare ninjas could even perform signs with another person's hand as a basis.
Arthur therefore closed his eyes to try and remember the sequence for the basic healing technique. He brought his hands together, forming a specific sign—the right hand horizontally interlocking with the left hand vertically; ox.
Focusing all his energy in his core, he could visually see chakra flowing through his arms and converging at his fingertips. It was a delicate procedure due to the constant push-and-pull between channeling enough chakra to be effective and maintaining control to avoid a burst.
Sweat beaded on his brow as the strain intensified. Without a moment's notice, the feeling ceased, and he failed.
But he wouldn't give up; he couldn't. Not here, not anywhere.
Repeating the signs, his movements were smoother this time as he channeled his chakra again.
A slight tingle spread from his palms. Feeling the flow and directing it where it needed to be, he finally opened his eyes and saw a faint, cerulean glow in his hands.
He had done it. He had performed a rudimentary healing technique.
Given his predicament, the excitement was short-lived. Yes, performing a jutsu on one's second attempt was a congratulatory feat, but this was just baby steps. He still had a long way to go.
'Only two days left to train?' he thought to himself.
That reminder was followed by a low growl because the initial burst of exertion left him drained. His limbs felt like lead weights now, and his eyelids drooped with heaviness. Chakra control was not as easy as people thought it was.
Resigned, he settled back on the stone floor and in the foul stench of his own waste. Rest was needed to recover one's chakra naturally. Time passed by until he was ready to try again.
When he felt like he could handle the strain again, he slowly sat up and performed the healing technique.
Relief flooded his senses as he pressed his glowing palms against his wounds.
It wasn't just the dull ache that receded; he could feel, with an almost absurd clarity, the very cells in his body responding. Damaged tissue knitted itself back together, and torn ligaments mended at an accelerated rate—all propelled by an invisible force.
For the first time, he felt a sense of control amidst this evil world. But caution tempered his optimism. Nothing was worth celebrating.
Since completely healing his wounds would attract the attention of his captor(s), he limited the flow of chakra, allowing the healing to reach a point of functionality rather than full restoration.
By the time he finished, he was left with a few minor scratches that wouldn't be enough to raise any alarms.
This was good for now, so it was time to focus on the offensive end, something not related to jutsus—a solid foundation.
At the time he entered this world, he was only able to get away with killing a Leaf ninja so easily because that shinobi's taijutsu was weak. Not at all like those bandits that led Arthur to be trapped in prison.
Taijutsu was this world's martial art that involved using one's natural physical abilities in combat. Unlike other fighting styles, it required no hand signs and focused on the ninja's physical strength and stamina.
That made taijutsu a quick and efficient way to fight without needing to harness any chakra at all.
While most ninjas used taijutsu, a select few like Rock Lee specialized in this style, perfecting powerful moves like the "Dynamic Entry" and the "Leaf Whirlwind" techniques. Other ninjas who were good at taijutsu could move faster than the speed of sound or leave behind afterimages.
That kind of raw power, that kind of speed—that's what Arthur needed.
Throwing himself onto the stone floor without rattling the chains, he began a grueling series of push-ups. Sweat slicked his skin, and the stale air became heavier with every repetition.
'One hundred one, one hundred two, one hundred three…' His muscle fibers tore, begging for respite. But he ignored them, fueled by a burning desire to break free. 'One hundred four, one hundred five…'
By the time he reached three hundred fifty, his arms gave way and his body collapsed onto the floor.
He lay there gasping as his lungs burned and his chest heaved up and down. He then gritted his teeth at how weak he was.
Yes, three hundred fifty push-ups for a twelve-year-old body was very impressive, but it was nothing in this world. Characters like Might Guy, Rock Lee's teacher, were able to do over seven hundred push-ups before feeling exhausted.
That meant Arthur was weak. Yet there was something he had that they were incapable of using: the healing technique!
With trembling hands, Arthur formed the familiar hand sign and began mending his upper body muscles. The fibers rebuilt themselves until they began to grow denser and more efficient. He even felt an electric-like sensation as his cells went into overdrive.
It was painful at first, but with each passing moment, he was pushing his body beyond its natural limits, refueling his aching muscles in order to return to his training.
When he finished, his chakra was low again. The mental pain was also still lurking in his mind despite there being no signs of injury or soreness.
Now he could move onto his lower body and do squats.
So he pushed himself again, with each repetition being more perfect than the last. By the time he finished, he stopped at six hundred. Not bad, but far from exceptional. The elite ninjas he'd seen could have easily doubled that number at an even faster rate than him.
So he healed himself again with the little chakra he had, ensuring not to go too far and cause chakra exhaustion.
While this little loophole was nice and all to exploit, that was the only con to it: little to no chakra meant stamina depletion. And stamina depletion meant the physical inability to do any type of workout.
Arthur was forced to take a breather before he could continue to his next set. When he was finished, he got on his back and began doing sit-ups.
The stone floor mixed with heavy chains bit into his lower back with each crunch. But this was good because he had free weights to work with.
By the time he finished, he ended his set with two hundred fifty total sit-ups in a row.
He was done for now. At least until his chakra was restored. There was nothing else to do but wait with his eyes closed, so that's just what he did. And when the waiting was done, he used the technique again.
'Healing jutsu…'
After the glow faded, he tentatively flexed his arms. The response was immediate: strength that surprised even him. He felt lighter; his body was more compact and responsive. He couldn't be sure by how much, but the difference was undeniable.
Arthur had just done something that most ninjas couldn't; he pushed his body beyond its limits and then used a healing technique to quickly enhance himself. Without this strategy, he'd have had to wait weeks until full recovery.
Not a hint of happiness was seen in his expression. He was merely content to know how much he was being severely underestimated.
They had thrown him in a cell, hoping to break his spirit. Instead, they had given him a training ground that would forge him into the villain he promised himself to become.
"Hmph," he scoffed, returning to his training.
After several more sets, he had to stop. His chakra had depleted once more. But the results were beyond even what he imagined. What was a couple hundred reps had quickly turned to a few hundred in a short span of time.
'Again…'
Some time later.
Arthur knew that he couldn't stay focused on taijutsu. There was much an average ninja could do. So he placed critical attention on learning a new technique: the "Substitution jutsu."
It was a simple technique, one that allowed a ninja to instantly replace themselves with another object during an attack. Perhaps not flashy, but in the right hands, it would be incredibly effective.
Perfect for a beginner like him.
Visualization was one of the keys to performing a technique. That's why having the Sharingan was so advantageous in these times. All one had to do was simply see the technique once, and they could copy it right on the spot without any prior training.
But Arthur didn't have the Sharingan. Or rather, he didn't need it.
He closed his eyes and pictured the hand signs from memory. There were five of them, a quick sequence that started with the tiger hand sign and then ended with the snake hand sign.
It wasn't at all hard to remember since each of the hand signs correlated with the Chinese zodiac, which Arthur knew by heart.
Muscles warmed up, mind focused, his chakra was being channeled as fingers danced across the air: tiger, boar, ox, dog, and finally, snake.
Now came the test. He focused on the nearest thing he could link to: his chain.
Connection made, he inflicted pain on himself.
Bang.
The sound was followed up with a momentary distortion in his vision. Akin to blinking one's eyes. And when he looked to see where he was, triumph coursing through him. It had worked; he had successfully executed the Substitution jutsu by replacing a chain link where his body was.
It was quite easy for him to learn, considering it was a lower-ranked technique. With the Substitution technique added into his arsenal, he could now escape dangerous attacks thrown at him from almost any direction if he prepares in advance.
But something dawned on Arthur: he was no longer bound by the chains, leaving him unbound in the center of the cell.
He was free, but this isn't what he wanted. If that fat guard happened to glance in, he'd find Arthur loose—an escape attempt. The punishment for such an offense could be brutal.
There was also another problem: Arthur couldn't reverse the jutsu since the link he substituted with may not place him back in the cuffs of his chains. The chains themselves had locks on them, so slipping back into them would be impossible.
The last thing he did was panic.
Considering this guard always came in to light that torch on the wall and bring in water and bread told Arthur something: the guard was on a fixed schedule. Right now, the torch was still lit. That gave Arthur a bit more time to potentially rectify his situation.
Instead of returning to the chains, he decided to use this slight freedom to his advantage and perform more complicated workouts he couldn't before.
More unknown hours passed by as he repeated this flow. The torch had finally burned out.
By the time he fell asleep to restore his chakra, he was jolted awake by the sound of a distant clang echoing outside. It was the guard approaching.
Arthur quickly slumped against the chains to make it look like they were still on him. Before he knew it, the guard entered.
"Water…" Arthur said in a gruff voice. He kept his eyes closed, feigning a deeper state of exhaustion than he actually felt. "Bring me some water, please…"
A rough hand slammed a glass of water and a morsel of bread beside him. With a tone filled with cruel amusement, the guard said, "Tomorrow you'll be on your way to the Earth Country."
Arthur hadn't expected that.
Naruto's world operated on a system reminiscent of feudal Japan. Here, power is everything, and countries maintained a precarious balance through military might.
Treaties are temporary at best, constantly threatened by the ever-present possibility of war. And each nation was ruled by a "Daimyo" (or feudal lord in English), a monarch who held ultimate political authority.
Among these countries, five stood out for their immense power and influence: the Land of Fire, the Land of Wind, the Land of Earth, the Land of Mist, and the Land of Lightning. These "Five Great Shinobi Countries" are each home to a "Hidden Village," a community dedicated to training and deploying highly skilled ninjas. And these same ninjas act as military muscle for their respective countries, serving under the leadership of the village head while ultimately answering to their feudal lord.
From what Arthur remembered, one of the bandits claimed that they were in the Fire Country. If this was true, then he was technically in the most prominent country in the world, housing all the protagonists.
Arthur had no thoughts of leaving such a country this early.
Mustering a weak voice, he rasped, "Can I know where I am exactly?"
Whether it was out of pity or not, the guard let out a chuckle and answered, "Still in the Fire Country, slave. Didn't think they'd send you across the border, but kids like you's worth the investment."
There was a loud slick as the guard spat on the floor and closed the door. Arthur lay there, content with many things. With more hours to train and hone his control, he would continue to use his setback as a stepping stone.
The water and bread lay there. He wasn't interested in them. Not even close.
Instead, with predatory eyes, he pushed himself off the floor and slowly got into a handstand. Any ninja could do a handstand. But what made this so impressive was that Arthur was balancing on just two fingers.
Blood rushed to his head. Every repetition, every second of push-ups, was an opportunity to build his strength, refine his control, and refine himself.
After some time, he collapsed onto the floor, covered in his own sweat. Those handstand push-ups were just one of his ten sets performed since the guard had left.
He had only been training for about two days, but because of his recover-and-repeat method, he'd managed to turn those two days into a two-week training session, pushing his body and chakra control further than he thought possible.
Now, however, exhaustion has set in again, and his chakra reserves are low.
As he lay there, his mind drifted to the other players in this world. Who knows where they were or what they were up to? As far as he was concerned, they were likely trapped here like he was. Who even knew if they had also come in the ninja world?
They had to have been here. Otherwise, the character selection slots wouldn't have been filled.
Were they imprisoned like him? Suffering under the same oppressive regime?
Empathy pricked his conscience. He might have envisioned himself as the villain, but his heart, shaped by his faith, still valued real people's lives that a conglomerate company was playing with.
The teachings of his Christian upbringing hadn't at all clashed with his new persona. What he considered was whether the others felt the same. Perhaps he could liberate them, forge an alliance, and escape this cruel world.
Or perhaps not, and they were his enemies.
One thing remained certain: he wouldn't be a pawn for anyone. His actions, whatever they were going to be, could only be judged by God.
Arthur pushed the disquieting thoughts about the other players to the back of his mind. He focused on another mystery: why he was here.
Dr. Kapoor's assurances about a "low pain threshold" were a cruel joke. This was real, raw, agonizing pain that was not even mentioned in the documents he signed. That's probably why he had to sign those documents: because Elysium believed he would die and didn't want any legal problems.
There were no neatly displayed stats, no helpful tutorial prompts to guide Arthur in this mess. He was adrift in a sea of uncertainty.