Murakami's POV
Looking at the bundle of 100,000 ryō that sat in my small hand, I allowed myself to feel its weight sink like a solid affirmation of my skills.
I turned it over, feeling the fresh texture of the notes.
Not bad. Not bad at all.
One week ago, I was still fumbling around adjusting various common seals, storage seals. Now?
Now, I had merchants throwing money at me for custom work.
Murakami, the Genius Seal Master.
Hmm, I liked the sound of that.
Hina whistled from the front. "Still staring at it? You planning to frame the money or something?"
I rolled my eyes. "Whay do you know? This is the reward for the effort I put into making that seal. Allow me to enjoy it."
"Yeah, sure." She snorted. "What do you plan to do now?"
"What do you mean?"
"News of this would spread in no time." She said and I nodded in understanding. "Once that happens, order will flow in and when that time comes, you won't have as much time to yourself as you do now."
I smirked as I placed the bundle of ryō on the counter. "If there is one skill I'm confident in, it's my time management skill. As long as it brings in money, you have nothing to worry about."
"You are still a kid, you need to rest properly in order to grow." She chided.
"Like you turned out alright…" I muttered under my breath but it was loud enough for her to hear since…
"Mu-ra-ka-mi!"
Yeah, the way she called my name was directly from the pit of her stomach. Thankfully, I was already stepping out of the store leaving the raging Hina behind.
She was fun to mess with but right now, I needed to get some fresh air through my system.
As I began my walk through the familiar market street, I was thinking about the processes it took to create the specialised storage seal.
The steps, the failures and the near-disasters.
Crafting that seal wasn't just difficult, it was like trying to cook a full-course meal with only a dull knife and a single flame.
Hmm? You may not understand the analogy but I did since I've seen it being done and it wasn't a fun experience.
Recalling the process and effort it took, I couldn't help pat myself on the back. It hadn't been easy.
The merchant order was simple in theory but a nightmare in execution.
First, I had to modify a basic locking seal, making it so that it wouldn't just open to anyone pouring chakra into it.
That meant tweaking the formula and adding a multi-layered structure that recorded and stored a unique chakra print.
Then came the issue of efficiency, the seal had to be small but strong enough to hold its integrity even if someone tampered with it.
I had to test different variations and halfway through, I nearly fried my own hand because one of my prototypes malfunctioned, overloading the ink and causing a mini explosion that wrecked the whole thing.
But after three days of testing, revising, cursing, and threatening to set my work on fire, I finally completed it.
A chakra-locking storage seal that only opened for its owner and could not be bypassed by normal means.
When the merchant tested it and called it flawless, I felt every second of effort was worth it.
The Growth of a Genius Seal Master.
That could be the title of this arc if this was the path I wanted to follow.
I wasn't the same Murakami from a week ago. I could feel it.
Before, I had confidence in my abilities, sure. But this? This was proof that I could take a real challenge and turn it into success.
My control over chakra-flow through ink had improved. My understanding of seal layering had deepened.
I could now visualize formations and their energy flow in my mind before even applying them.
And, most importantly, I was faster.
I was becoming sharper, smarter and better.
And even with all this seal work, I didn't slack off on my training.
Morning and evening, without fail, I stuck to my breathing and meditation routines, refining my chakra control which was now better due to my Fuinjutsu practices.
For my physical exercises, I ran through my self made obstacle course with weighted wrist and weighted ankle straps, making sure my speed and strength didn't take a hit from all the time spent hunched over parchment.
And of course, my chakra control exercises were still a daily practice. Consistency was key, and if I let that slip, all this sealing work would mean nothing.
As above, so below
As within, so without.
My mind can't grow and leave my body behind.
Balance. That was the trick to having an all-rounded foundation of body, mind, and chakra working in sync.
A strong body grounded the mind, a calm mind guided the chakra, and refined chakra empowered the body.
Lose one, and the rest would crumble.
...Though speaking of balance, I may or may not have neglected my academic responsibilities.
The second term had officially started yesterday.
And I? Well... I had been too deep in sealing work to show up. Tee-hee.
Not that I regretted it.
Education is important, but money? Money was far more so.
Still, I knew I couldn't dodge it.
Skipping the first day meant I had a full set of lessons to catch up on, whatever else Matsuda-sensei decided was "essential."
Which meant... I actually had to show up today.
Even if I was already a few hours late.
The thought pained me. But such was the cost of being a genius businessman and a student who couldn't afford to miss out on gaining free information and knowledge.
Especially on seals.
I made a mental note to have Hina draw up a proper budget for the money.
Some for supplies, some for future investments, and a small portion for personal indulgence.
Seals weren't going to make themselves, and I had bigger ideas brewing in my head.
The merchant's down payment meant more custom orders were coming. Bigger, and properly harder projects.
And if I kept growing at this pace?
Well... let's just say, the Uzumaki clan might want to start paying attention…something I didn't particularly desire.
That's a problem for the future me, though, I've already begun thinking up some precautionary steps. All that's left is to acquire certain knowledge from the academy and make more money.
…
…
As I made my way to the academy, I took my sweet time, because let's be real, if I was already late, what was the point of rushing? Might as well make an entrance.
Skipping the first day of the new term wasn't exactly part of my master plan, but sealing work had demanded my attention, and when money speaks, who am I to ignore its call?
Besides, it's not like the academy was going anywhere. It would be right there when I arrived, waiting for me like an overbearing parent with hands on hips.
As I reached the academy gates, I took a deep breath.
I could already hear the chatter of students, the occasional shouts from instructors, and the distinct sound of someone getting thrown into a wall.
Eh? Where did that come from? I paused but shrugged and put that one behind me to relish the moment.
Yes, the sounds of Shinobi education, or was it education in general?
I casually made my way through the hallways, dodging the occasional teacher with the precision of a trained assassin if I do say so myself.
The trick was to walk just fast enough to look like you were on an important task, but not so fast that it looked like you were avoiding capture.
A few students glanced at me as I passed but went back to their own things.
Lovely.
When I finally arrived outside my classroom, I paused. I could hear the instructor's voice inside, and by the tone, it sounded like actual teaching was happening.
I considered my options:
1. Walk in, apologize like a responsible student, and take my seat.
2. Walk in, pretend like I had been there all along, and gaslight reality itself.
3. Walk in, give an overly dramatic excuse, and own the chaos.
Option two it is.
A bold thought, but if executed correctly, I would gaslight reality itself.
With a deep breath, I adjusted my posture, smoothed my expression, and strolled toward class like I owned the building.
The trick to a perfect con?
Confidence.
I slid the door open and walked in mid-lesson, stepping over the threshold with all the casual authority of a daimyo inspecting his lands.
The instructor, mid-sentence, turned to me.
So did the entire class. I gave him a curt bow and walked straight to my seat like it was the most natural thing in the world.
My heart? Calm. My expression? Serene.
I could feel twenty pairs of eyes drilling into me, but I ignored them all and sat down, folded my arms, and nodded like I had been there for hours.
I could almost hear the collective confusion.
The instructor narrowed his eyes. "Murakami-san."
"Yes, Sensei?" I replied smoothly, tilting my head like an innocent student.
"You're late." He said. "By a day and some hours."
I nodded at that. "Personal reasons."
He squinted his eyes at me which I matched for a few seconds before I sighed.
"I came across a group of old grandmas that needed my help." I relented and said,
"For a day…and some?"
"They were kind old ladies so they insisted I stay behind and have a meal." I shrugged. "Who would've thought I'd be delayed for so long."
The instructor's gaze didn't leave Murakami's face as he tried to gauge how much truth was in what the other party just said.
Unfortunately for him, Murakami was a tough nut to crack as he kept his facial expression as relaxed as he could without tearing his gaze away from the instructor.
The silence dragged for a few long seconds before the instructor finally exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temple as if my very existence caused him migraines.
"Sit quietly, Murakami-kun," he said at last. "And try not to rescue any more…old ladies during class hours."
"Of course, Sensei," I replied with a respectful nod. "I'll limit my heroism to weekends."
A few students snickered, quickly stifling it when the instructor's gaze flicked in their direction before shaking his head and continuing with his lecture.
Still, as the lecture resumed, my mind immediately drifted as I started taking mental notes.
Even if the Academy's pace was slower than I liked, it was still a foundation I needed to brush up on.
Chakra theory on the 361 tenketsu and how they functioned in the body, the usual, mundane to me, but valuable for understanding how the average shinobi was trained to think.
My eyes drifted to the board, where the instructor was sketching out chakra circulation diagrams.
Crude, but functional. He was explaining the importance of even flow between tenketsu points, something I'd long internalized through my own experiments.
I tapped my pencil against the desk, suppressing a sigh.
If this is what they're teaching, it's no wonder Genin struggle with chakra control after leaving the academy.
Because the Academy only ever taught the surface-level theory.
The "what," and never the "why."
They'd say "circulate chakra evenly," but never explain:
how to feel the micro-fluctuations,
how to regulate output between points of resistance,
how emotional state shifted the flow,
or how fatigue altered tenketsu responsiveness.
To make matters worse, most students were only trained to control static chakra, the kind used in leaf-balancing or surface walking.
But real combat demanded a dynamic control of chakra, adjusting its flow instantly while moving, dodging, panicking, or bleeding.
No amount of drawing circles and arrows on a blackboard taught you that.
So the moment students graduated and entered real missions, what little control they had on their chakra falls apart the second adrenaline hit.
They had the textbook knowledge, but not the muscle memory, and definitely not the sensitivity.
The Academy trained them to recite the principle, not embody it.
And that was the difference between someone who could balance a leaf in class…
…and someone who could keep their chakra stable while running for their life.
Still, I jotted a few things down. I wasn't here just to learn, I was here to observe.
To understand what passed for "education" in Konoha's system.
The better I knew the framework, the easier it would be to create my own methods later for the orphans.
"Murakami-kun."
My head lifted. The instructor was watching me again. "Perhaps you'd like to demonstrate today's lesson since you seem... remarkably composed for someone who missed an entire day."
A few students perked up, whispering behind their hands.
I smiled faintly. "Of course, Sensei. I'd be happy to."
The murmuring grew. The instructor gestured toward the front.
"Then show us the correct pattern of chakra flow through the primary tenketsu."
I stood, walked to the front of the class, facing the diagram on the board, I traced the path with my finger across the chalkboard diagram.
Starting from the heart tenketsu, branching through the shoulders, down the arms, and back toward the navel, before cycling through the legs and up the spine.
A clean loop.
"I'm done." I said with a small smile.
The instructor nodded slowly. "A fair demonstration, Murakami. You may return to your seat."
I bowed lightly and walked back, hands in my sleeves, posture loose.
Arriving at my chair, I sat down and turned my gaze outside the window with one thought in my mind.
If I were to go along with the Academy's curriculum, I would probably remain an average shinobi and that was definitely not what I had in mind for my future.
I was already good enough in comparison to kids my age and although I'm not competing with them, I still need to use them as a reference to determine how much skill I should show and when.
Outside the window, a group of students were practicing shuriken throws, their movements were stiff and uncoordinated.
I could already pick out a few flaws in their stances from here.
Although I didn't value these throwing techniques, If I wanted to, I could correct them and help Improve but I wasn't here to impress anyone.
I was here to learn how this system worked, how the Academy molded its students, what it prioritized, and where the cracks in its foundation were.
The entire world runs on systems, and that is the building block of all reality and what makes it dangerous. Because once you understand the system, you can manipulate it.
And when the time comes, I'll make sure the system works for me, not the other way around.
I leaned back in my seat, letting the afternoon light wash over my face.
Life couldn't get any more interesting than this.