In the Ninja World, at the heart of the continent, within a jungle shrouded by a dense canopy of trees.
A young ninja staggered deeper into the rarely trodden wilderness.
He appeared to be only fourteen or fifteen years old, his clothes tattered and torn, his chest and back stained with bright red blood. His steps were unsteady, each movement sluggish as if weighed down by an invisible force, giving the impression that he might collapse at any moment.
By some stroke of fortune amidst misfortune, he had temporarily shaken off his pursuers.
His name was Hanemiya Genma, a member of a small ninja clan called the "Hanemiya Clan," and the nephew of the former clan leader. A month ago, the old clan leader fell in battle. A week ago, the new clan leader—his cousin—met the same fate, leaving him to inherit the mantle as the newest clan head.
Three days prior, during a skirmish, Hanemiya Genma had volunteered to act as a decoy to protect the rest of his clan, allowing them to retreat safely. After drawing the enemy away and narrowly escaping their pursuit, he was now making his way toward the agreed-upon rendezvous point.
That was his basic situation. Oh, and one more crucial detail: beyond all that's been described, he was also a transmigrator.
A year ago, for reasons unknown, his soul had crossed over into the body of this boy named "Hanemiya Genma," overwriting the original consciousness.
Upon arriving in the Ninja World, he initially thought he'd follow the "system flow" trope—gaining a cheat-like system to become a world-shaking figure. But he soon realized he had no system at all.
Next, he figured that with his knowledge of the Naruto world's historical events and key milestones, he could take the "genius flow" path and rise smoothly to prominence. Yet, up to now, his strength had plateaued at the level of a Chunin, with no hope in sight for further progress.
In the end, he concluded he might be stuck in the long-outdated "trash-to-treasure suffering flow."
But even that was an illusion. It was only at this very moment that he became certain he'd been walking the "cannon fodder flow" all along. Born ordinary, he was destined to become a glorious footnote—a expendable pawn. His transmigration journey had barely begun, and it already seemed on the verge of ending.
Though he couldn't pinpoint the exact time period, Hanemiya Genma was fairly sure he was in the era of warring ninja clans, before the establishment of the Hidden Villages. This was a time of "cooking oil over a raging fire"—raw, primal, and drenched in blood. Nearly all minor clans without influence were doomed to lose their space to survive.
As he trudged along, Hanemiya Genma suddenly tripped over something underfoot, and his entire body pitched forward, crashing to the ground.
He hadn't slept or rested for three full days and nights. Hunger and exhaustion made every step a Herculean effort...
No matter what, he needed to eat something to regain his strength, but he had long since run out of supplies.
Yet, as the saying goes, "Heaven never seals all paths." Struggling to lift his head, Hanemiya Genma forced his eyes open and, through a blurry haze, spotted something growing on the ground not far ahead.
"Mushrooms."
Mushrooms were better than tree bark, at least. With no room for hesitation, he crawled forward on all fours, inching along until he reached it. With the last of his strength, he plucked what looked like an "eryngii mushroom," stuffed it into his mouth in a few hasty bites, and swallowed it down.
Only after it hit his stomach did he notice that the spot where this "mushroom" grew seemed... unusual.
The cluster of "mushrooms" sprouted from a half-buried "stump." Around the stump grew pale, ghostly pitcher plants, their surfaces adorned with glossy aloe-like leaves that shimmered as if painted with oil. Thinking back, the "mushroom" he'd just eaten had an oddly rich, greasy texture...
"..."
Hanemiya Genma's gaze turned sluggish, a strange sense of déjà vu creeping over him, as if he'd stumbled upon something familiar.
He scrutinized the stump more closely and realized, to his shock, that it bore a twisted human face.
"Hmm? Huh?!"
Since arriving in the Ninja World, Hanemiya Genma had often grumbled to himself about how low-tier his life was—never meeting any familiar characters or encountering significant events. But now, his wish had finally come true. He'd met a key figure from the original story—a White Zetsu. A dead White Zetsu, no less.
That "mushroom" he'd just eaten? It had grown straight out of the White Zetsu's eye socket.
Hanemiya Genma instantly felt a wave of unease. Theoretically speaking, he'd just consumed the filthiest, most unsanitary thing in the entire Ninja World.
No, it wasn't just unsanitary—this stuff had side effects. It might even kill him.
Without warning, excruciating pain erupted through his body. His limbs convulsed uncontrollably, thrashing as if trying to twist him into a pretzel. Even clenching his teeth couldn't stifle the guttural groans escaping his throat. The unbearable agony began to strip away his consciousness, bit by bit.
"If only I'd rinsed it with water first..."
That was the last thought in his mind before he blacked out completely.
Roughly ten minutes later, the unconscious Hanemiya Genma finally stopped twitching.
The forest fell silent again. His body curled into a ball, and at some point, a ghastly white hue had begun to spread across his skin.
Clearly, he was undergoing some kind of transformation.
Three hours later, the pallor gradually faded, and he returned to his original appearance.
A suffocating heaviness jolted Hanemiya Genma awake. His eyes snapped open, and he bolted upright, collapsing to his knees. Propping himself up with his arms, he coughed violently.
With each hacking cough, a pale, sap-like liquid spewed from his mouth. By the time the coughing subsided and his breathing steadied, the "sap" had pooled across the ground in front of him.
"Hoo..."
Letting out a long breath, Hanemiya Genma leaned against a nearby tree and slowly stood. His face carried an indescribable weight and an unmistakable confusion.
Though he wasn't yet sure what had happened to him, upon waking, he felt his physical condition had become unnaturally good. His body was light, his mind clear. Not only had all his wounds healed, but he even sensed his combat ability had jumped a tier—almost like "Constitution +10" or "Chakra +10."
Before, he'd been an ordinary Chunin, one of countless specks of dust in the Ninja World. Now, he had the illusion that if he just tiptoed, he could touch the "Kakashi line"—yes, that Kakashi.
Even stranger, new information had inexplicably appeared in his mind—or rather, a new instinct. It was hard to describe, but it told him he'd gained new abilities.
He raised his left arm, and with a single thought, it turned a stark white, its texture resembling peeled tree bark. As his intent shifted, the whiteness spread across his entire body. In a sense, he had become a White Zetsu.
"White Zetsu."
Hanemiya Genma could hardly believe it.
As everyone knows, a spider bite turns you into Spider-Man. By the same logic, after eating a "mushroom" that grew from a White Zetsu, Hanemiya Genma's body had undergone a transformation akin to a White Zetsu's. Perhaps this could be called... "White Zetsu-Man"?
"In the end, isn't this just a poor man relying on mutation?"
Thanks to recklessly eating that mushroom, Hanemiya Genma figured he'd somehow assimilated with the White Zetsu. This assimilation had significantly enhanced his strength and granted him some of the White Zetsu's inherent abilities.
These changes were worth studying, but now wasn't the time to dwell on them.
The sound of fabric brushing against leaves reached his ears, snapping him to alertness. Judging by the noise, a group of at least ten ninjas was approaching. He immediately concealed himself. About fifteen minutes later, the ninjas stopped nearby. No—it wasn't a coincidence. Once he got a clear look at their faces, Hanemiya Genma stepped out of hiding. These were his clansmen.
It turned out that, unbeknownst to him, he'd reached the rendezvous point before losing consciousness.
"Clan Leader!"
His sudden appearance startled the ninjas for a moment, but once they recognized him, they visibly relaxed.
"Are there only a few of you left?" Hanemiya Genma asked.
Sixteen ninjas had made it here, mostly young men. As for those who didn't arrive, their fates were easy to guess.
"Clan Leader, we..." Guilt clouded one ninja's face.
Hanemiya Genma raised a hand to stop him, his expression calm and his voice steady. "It's not your fault. It seems my decoy plan wasn't as successful as I'd hoped."
"Clan Leader, the enemy's forces vastly outnumber ours. We... we were powerless." A deep sense of helplessness made the ninja lower his head.
Both in numbers and average strength, the enemy was overwhelmingly superior.
"What about the pursuers? Did you shake them off?" Hanemiya Genma asked again.
"No. At most, they'll catch up in four or five hours... They have scouting ninjas. We can't escape."
Witnessed or not, the moment of a ninja clan's life-or-death struggle always arrived with unhurried inevitability.