Shimura Danzo's house stood isolated on the outskirts of Konohagakure, far from the bustle of the village center. After a twenty-minute walk through familiar dirt paths and under the shadow of Hokage Rock, Ren finally returned home.
As soon as he opened the door, the rich aroma of simmering meat wafted from the kitchen. His footsteps froze. His expression shifted awkwardly.
How could he not feel awkward?
This was Danzo Shimura we were talking about—the most infamous, shadow-drenched figure in Konoha's future. The founder of Root, the manipulative elder, the man responsible for countless atrocities.
And yet… here he was, cooking dinner?
In a damn apron??
Was this a Genjutsu?
The Danzo of this era hadn't yet stolen Shisui's Sharingan. He hadn't even begun the whole Uchiha massacre agenda. Back then, in his prime, he didn't even care about the Uchiha. No fear, no obsession. Just a man whose raw strength placed him among the elite.
Among the six disciples of the Nidaime Hokage, only Danzo had the guts and skill to challenge Hiruzen Sarutobi for the position of Third Hokage. That spoke volumes. His strength had undoubtedly reached the Kage-level.
But of course, Kage-levels were not all created equal.
Hiruzen, the so-called "Professor" of ninjutsu, was at least 30% stronger than Danzo. That gap was what had ultimately cost Danzo the title of Hokage.
But that wasn't the point right now!
Why the hell was Danzo wearing a flowery apron, stirring a stew, and acting like some doting dad?
"You're the shadow leader of Root!" Ren screamed internally. "You're Konoha's boogeyman! You don't get to smell like garlic and soy sauce!"
Despite his mental protests, Ren found himself shuffling toward the kitchen, led more by the hunger pangs gnawing at his stomach than curiosity. His nose twitched. The scent had deepened, thick with umami and childhood warmth. His stomach growled like a summoned beast.
"Hungry? Go wash up. Food's almost ready," Danzo said gently, ruffling Ren's hair.
His soft, warm gesture struck Ren like a kunai to the soul.
Was this really the world of Naruto?
In this lifetime, Ren's mother had died during childbirth. Since then, it had always been just him and Danzo. Despite having a professional nanny on staff for housework, Danzo cooked personally when she was unavailable.
Over the past seven years, Danzo's cooking appearances had been rare but not unheard of. Every time, Ren mocked the weirdness of it all—but he never denied the man's skills. Danzo could rival a professional chef in flavor, something he never expected to say about a man who would one day orchestrate coups and assassinations.
"How was school today?" Danzo asked, placing bowls of steaming rice and meat on the table.
Ren hesitated mid-chew, recalling how he punched Uchiha Canon Fodder #1 and verbally destroyed a young, prideful Sarutobi. His chewing slowed as guilt and amusement danced in his chest.
"Eh… it was alright. The old monkey came to school and gave a lecture. I may have pissed him off… almost to death," Ren said, munching loudly and stuffing a rice ball into his mouth.
Danzo blinked. "What are you doing, Sarutobi? You weren't just venting for me, were you?"
Ren rolled his eyes and replied mercilessly, "You lost to Sarutobi fair and square. He's stronger and a better politician. You becoming Hokage was never gonna happen. Why would I be mad about reality?"
Danzo scratched his head awkwardly, defeated at the dinner table by a seven-year-old.
But this was Danzo at home—a man with iron in his spine, but love in his heart for his son. Ren could slap him with facts, mock his failures, and Danzo would just laugh. No scolding. No retribution.
Dinner passed as usual with their bizarre blend of insults and love. Afterward, Ren took a short rest before diving into his daily hellish training.
Here, Danzo transformed. The soft dad vanished. In his place stood a cold, exacting master.
No mercy.
No shortcuts.
This was the world of shinobi, where strength meant survival. Whether clanless or a noble heir, everyone attended the Ninja Academy. Everyone graduated. Everyone joined the military force of Konoha.
With Hiruzen still in his prime, Danzo didn't dare use Root's resources to protect Ren. And he wouldn't even if he could. He knew he couldn't be there forever.
Ren understood this too. He had no objections to Danzo's brutal lessons. As a reincarnated otaku from the 21st century, he knew exactly what kind of insane world he'd dropped into. His ambitions weren't small.
He didn't just want to live. He wanted to dominate.
Fortunately, he had the Face-Face Fruit and a so-called 'system'. They hadn't done much yet, but he believed—no, he knew—they would become game-changers one day.
Crash!
A ceramic teacup shattered into shards, startling the crows perched on the Uchiha compound's eaves.
Fourteen-year-old Uchiha Fugaku, already a Chūnin, clenched his fists. His eyes burned with unrelenting fury.
"Shimura Ren... SHIMURA REN!"
Though Ren had used the Face-Face Fruit to silence teachers and humiliate Uchiha Canon Fodder #1, gossip had a way of spreading. And it had reached Fugaku's ears.
"My engagement to Elder Uchiha's granddaughter is critical! It secures my political future. I don't care if you're Danzo's brat or Sarutobi's bastard—you will NOT screw this up!"
Meanwhile, at the Shimura residence, Ren lay collapsed in the backyard, drenched in sweat. Danzo towered over him, his stern face carved from stone. The loving father had switched back to the hellish mentor.
"Get up!"
"No way! Chakra's depleted, my stamina's shot—I'm done for!"
"Tch. That's your so-called perseverance?"
"You're a Kage-level monster! I'm a first-year student! Have you no shame?!"
"There is no shame in survival! This world is cruel, Ren. The enemy won't care about your chakra reserves—they'll just cut your throat. If you want to live, you fight. You get up, or you die."
Danzo's Chakra flared, suffocating the air with murderous intent. Ren's heart spasmed. A chill raced down his spine. The world dulled. Time slowed. A blade of killing intent hovered above his brain.
He's going to kill me? He's seriously going to kill me?!
Paralyzed, Ren could do nothing. Neither the Face-Face Fruit nor the system did a damn thing. He was on his own.
In that terrifying moment, clarity struck him like lightning.
So what if I have powers? So what if I have a system? I'm still just a spineless NEET who hasn't committed to this world. I'm garbage.
But not anymore.
I want to get stronger. With or without cheats. Because I'm not just anyone—I'm a transmigrator, damn it!
Power exploded from within. Muscle fatigue vanished in a tide of adrenaline. Ren's eyes blazed. He pushed himself up with a scream, spinning and launching a full-power kick.
BOOM!
Danzo caught the kick with a veined, tense hand. A proud smile curled his lips.
"As expected of my son. Overdone it again? Sleep it off. You'll be fine tomorrow."
Hearing his father's voice, Ren's tension snapped. Fatigue crashed into him like a tidal wave. He collapsed, eyes fluttering shut.
His last thoughts were simple, messy, and full of chaotic hope.
Tomorrow... would be different.