Naruto: Not a Ninja, the System

The strength of Konoha Village was undeniable. If everyone within it stood united, what room would other villages have to interfere?

But when those in power behaved selfishly, those below naturally walked their own paths.

"Patriarch, I've heard that Jaxon of the Hoshino family has started a grain business, taking advantage of the chaos during the Second Shinobi World War. What do you make of that?"

Hinata Fire sat upright, his fingers wrapped around a teacup, and fixed his gaze on Hyuga Tokuma as he asked.

Hyuga Tokuma fell silent, reflecting for a few moments. Then he sighed and replied slowly, "That kid dared to confront us alone when he was just three years old. Not only that, but he managed to secure a massive collaboration with our Hyuga Clan. Over the past decade, the wealth we've earned through that partnership is equivalent to hundreds of S-rank missions. It's uplifted the clan's standard of living considerably.

"Whether it's his intellect, shrewdness, or planning abilities—he's surpassed what ordinary people can even hope to achieve.

"In just ten years, his mining operations have spread across the Five Great Nations. Nearly all ironware circulating through the market now has a link to his enterprises.

"And now he's moving into grain. If this isn't handled delicately, it could bring the attention—and possibly the wrath—of other ninja villages. Even Konoha itself might not turn a blind eye."

Tokuma paused, his expression growing serious.

"We're partners in this. Pass down the order: all Hyuga ninjas are to protect Jaxon under special circumstances, even if it means putting their lives on the line."

"I understand," Hinata Fire said with a nod, fully grasping the stakes involved.

---

Elsewhere

Replication Progress: 4.885%

A secluded pavilion stood at the heart of a serene lake, resembling an island embraced by nature. It sat peacefully, almost blending with the tranquil landscape around it.

In the middle of the pavilion, a figure sat quietly, still as a painting, as though part of the scenery itself.

A tea table was set before him, meticulously arranged with seasonal fruits and delicate pastries, releasing a tempting aroma. The lake's surface mirrored the sky like a polished sheet of glass. One could even see the lush green grass swaying beneath the water and the occasional fish—some over a meter long—darting beneath the surface. Occasionally, they leapt into the air, breaking the stillness with bursts of sparkling droplets.

The boy wore a black shirt with the top two buttons undone, exposing a bit of his toned chest. Draped over him was a white fleece jacket, soft and warm-looking. He wore simple black trousers, sitting cross-legged and barefoot. His shoes sat neatly to the side, waiting in silence.

A steaming cup of tea rested on the table, fine wisps of vapor rising into the cool air. Its fragrance mingled with the ambient hum of insects and birdsong, adding a surreal charm to the already picturesque moment.

This was Jaxon.

At almost 14 years old now, his short black hair was neat and clean, enhancing his spirited aura. His facial features were striking—handsome, yet still bearing traces of youthful gentleness, like the warm light of the morning sun.

His eyes were particularly unforgettable: calm as still water, deep as the night sky. They shimmered with a soft, quiet light—one full of promise and potential. It was the gaze of someone untempered by harsh experiences, more tender than sharp, but no less determined.

Ten years had passed in the blink of an eye.

If Jaxon had been born into a traditional ninja clan, by this age, he would already be expected to carry a blade and face death on the battlefield. That was the fate awaiting most children in this unforgiving world—age mattered less than one's responsibility.

But he was different.

He didn't have to concern himself with war, nor did he need to bloody his hands. He lived peacefully, far from the carnage. More of a silent observer than a participant, Jaxon watched the tides of the world and guided events with intellect instead of violence.

Looking at the progress bar in his mind, satisfaction bloomed in his chest.

4.885%.

That number represented ten years of persistence. Each decimal point had been hard-earned.

He was growing ever closer to truly controlling the power of the system embedded in this world. Though he still didn't fully understand its true nature, the mystery itself excited him. The unknown possibilities stirred his imagination. Once replication hit 5%, he believed something incredible would unlock.

He lifted the teacup and gently blew on it before taking a small sip. The warm liquid flowed down his throat, banishing the chill of late autumn. Around the lake, the trees stood in full seasonal splendor: faded yellows, evergreen needles, and vibrant maple reds painted a scene straight out of a fairytale.

As he soaked in the peace of the moment, the sound of footsteps broke the stillness—measured and deliberate—echoing from the wooden boardwalk that led to the shore.

He didn't turn.

Once the footsteps stopped behind him, he placed his teacup down and spoke calmly, "How did it go?"

"Young Master, everything has been carried out exactly as you ordered."

The voice belonged to Ah Fu, Jaxon's ever-loyal attendant. At 60 years old, Ah Fu had grown considerably older in this war-torn world. His hair now bore streaks of white, and deep lines carved his face, proof of the time and hardship he had weathered over the past decade.

Still standing respectfully behind Jaxon, Ah Fu hesitated before continuing, "Young Master, this new venture into the grain business... it's bound to touch on many powerful interests. Handling it so openly might draw unnecessary trouble."

Jaxon gently waved his hand, brushing aside the concern. Only then did he turn his head slightly and regard the older man. His expression remained calm and unwavering.

"The Second Shinobi World War is entering its most intense stage," Jaxon said softly. "Countless talents will be needed on all sides. Spread the word through the black market—we're buying ninja infants under the age of three from any ninja family, for one million ryo each."

Ah Fu was visibly startled, but he said nothing.

The black market…

It was something that was only supposed to appear after the Second Shinobi World War. When Jaxon first arrived in this world and watched Hokage, he often wondered who had created such a mysterious and powerful underground force.

At one point, he even speculated that it had been formed by the Daimyo of the Five Great Nations.

But now—

It was Jaxon himself.

The black market that would shake the foundations of the entire ninja world had been born from his very own hands.

Øóffer going on for diamond tier

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