Player Uchiha - Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Threshold

The morning sun filtered through Yami’s window with familiar warmth, but today felt different. Significant. He could sense it in his bones before he even opened his status panel—that peculiar awareness the system granted him of his own progress, like an itch just beneath the skin finally ready to be scratched.

A week had passed since the relocation announcement. Seven days of tension simmering throughout the compound, of adults locked in endless debates, of ANBU shadows watching from rooftops. Seven days of Yami maintaining his routine with stubborn determination, completing his Basic Training Quest twice daily now that his enhanced stamina allowed for it.

Seven days of grinding toward a milestone he’d been anticipating since the beginning.

He pulled up his status panel before even getting out of bed, and felt a surge of satisfaction at what he saw.

—
User: Uchiha Yami
Level: 20 (34/231)
Bloodline: Uchiha
Ability: Sharingan Lv1 (64.4%)
Affinity: Fire Lv3, Yin Lv4

Health: 300/300 [Regenerate 1% per minute]
Chakra: 100/100
Fatigue: 0%

STR: 1
AGI: 1
VIT: 100
INT: 3
PER: 1

Skills: Accelerated Perception

[Quest] x1
—

Level 20. The peak of Academy Student classification according to the system’s breakdown. And more importantly—much more importantly—his Vitality had reached 100 points.

[Regenerate 1% per minute]

Those five words represented a fundamental transformation in his capabilities. Passive regeneration. The holy grail of survivability that he’d been working toward since his first day in this world.

Yami sat up slowly, his mind already racing through the implications. One percent of 300 HP per minute meant he would recover 3 HP every sixty seconds. That translated to 180 HP per hour, or his entire health pool restored in less than two hours even from the brink of death.

It wasn’t Wolverine-level healing—he wouldn’t be regenerating lost limbs or surviving decapitation. But it was roughly equivalent to what Naruto Uzumaki possessed in his early years, that enhanced vitality inherited from Uzumaki bloodline that let him bounce back from injuries that would sideline normal ninja for days.

For a five-year-old in a world where a single kunai to the wrong spot could be fatal, this was revolutionary.

He needed to test it.

Yami retrieved a kunai from his small weapons pouch—one of the training tools the clan had provided. The blade was sharp enough for practice but not quite combat-grade. Perfect for what he had in mind.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he pressed the edge against his forearm and made a shallow cut. Not deep—he wasn’t stupid enough to risk serious injury just to satisfy curiosity—but enough to break the skin and draw blood.

Pain flared, sharp and immediate. His status panel updated instantly:

[Health: 297/300]

Three points of damage from a minor cut. The math tracked—in game terms, this was barely a scratch.

But what happened next made his breath catch.

The wound began to close. Not instantly, not with any visible supernatural glow, but noticeably. He could watch the edges of the cut slowly knitting together, new skin forming over the injury with deliberate progression. Blood stopped flowing after perhaps ten seconds. After thirty seconds, the wound had reduced to a thin red line. After a full minute, only a faint pink mark remained.

[Health: 300/300]

Complete regeneration in sixty seconds, just as the system had promised.

Yami stared at his arm in wonder, running his finger over the spot where the cut had been. Smooth skin, no scar, no evidence of injury beyond a slight tenderness that would probably fade within minutes.

“This changes everything,” he whispered to the empty room.

With regeneration this effective, he could train harder, push his body further without fear of accumulated damage. Minor training injuries—pulled muscles, bruised bones, shallow cuts from weapons practice—would heal overnight or faster. He could take risks in combat that would be suicidal for normal ninja his age.

But more than tactical advantages, this represented a fundamental shift in his survivability. In a world where children regularly died from what should have been survivable injuries simply because medical attention arrived too late, having built-in healing was the difference between life and death.

He’d reached a threshold. Not the final one—level 500 and surpassing Hagoromo still loomed impossibly distant—but a significant milestone nonetheless.

After cleaning the small bloodstain from his arm and properly storing the kunai, Yami sat back down and considered his next moves. Level 20 marked the peak of Academy Student classification. Level 21 would make him Genin-equivalent in the system’s hierarchy. But more importantly, he needed to think strategically about stat allocation going forward.

He’d focused exclusively on Vitality up to this point, and that single-minded approach had paid dividends. But continuing to pump everything into one stat would create dangerous imbalances. He’d be a tank with massive health and regeneration but unable to hit anything, too slow to dodge, lacking the chakra to perform jutsu, unable to perceive threats quickly enough to react.

Every stat served a purpose:

Strength increased physical power and movement speed—essential for taijutsu, for carrying equipment, for the basic physicality that underpinned all ninja combat.

Agility enhanced dynamic vision, reaction time, and evasion—the difference between seeing an attack coming and being able to actually move out of the way.

Vitality governed health pool and stamina—which he increased to the point where he almost equivalent to half Uzumaki blood Naruto. If Vitality stat reach 200, then his Recovery speed also doubles.

Intelligence expanded chakra reserves and recovery rate—and at 100 points would grant passive chakra regeneration just like Vitality did for health. Essential for any serious jutsu use.

Perception sharpened senses and danger awareness while directly enhancing Sharingan effectiveness—arguably the most important stat for an Uchiha, since their bloodline ability scaled with it.

He needed all of them. The question was priority and balance.

Looking at his current distribution—100 in VIT, 3 in INT, and 1 in everything else—the imbalance was almost comical. He was essentially a regenerating punching bag with barely functional physical capabilities and minimal chakra.

From this point forward, he’d need to diversify. Probably focus on getting Intelligence to 100 next for chakra regeneration, while steadily building up Perception to enhance his Sharingan, with regular investment in Strength and Agility to keep his physical capabilities from falling too far behind.

The leveling curve was getting steeper too. He’d noticed the pattern over the past week—each level required more experience than the last. When he’d first started, 100 EXP could net him six level-ups. Now, at level 20 going on 21, he needed 231 EXP just for a single level. Even earning 200 EXP per day from double quest completions, that was more than a full day of grinding for one level.

The exponential scaling was brutal. But that’s how these systems worked—easy gains at the start, increasingly difficult progression as you climbed higher. By the time he reached level 100, he’d probably need thousands of EXP per level. Level 500 was so far beyond comprehension that thinking about it directly was counterproductive.

Better to focus on achievable goals. Immediate priorities.

And speaking of immediate priorities, there was something else he needed to address: actual ninja skills.

He’d been building his foundation—health, stamina, chakra, physical conditioning—but he hadn’t learned a single jutsu. Hadn’t practiced weapons beyond basic kunai handling. Hadn’t studied tactics or stealth or any of the myriad skills that separated a ninja from a unusually fit civilian.

It was time to change that.

But he had no interest in flashy, chakra-intensive techniques. Not yet. What he needed was practical, efficient, applicable to his current capabilities.

The Body Flicker Technique immediately came to mind.

Officially classified as D-rank—one of the lowest jutsu classifications—but universally useful. High-speed movement accomplished by using chakra to temporarily vitalize the body. Every competent ninja knew it. He’d seen Tekka use it that first day, appearing seemingly out of nowhere with casual ease.

The technique required excellent chakra control and the ability to convert chakra into Yang Release energy to enhance physical capabilities. Not the easiest jutsu for a beginner, despite its low rank. But incredibly valuable—mobility was survival in the ninja world.

Which meant he needed to work on chakra control first.

And he knew exactly who could teach him.

—

Yui was already at the training ground when Yami arrived, working through a series of stretches that were probably supposed to be warm-ups but looked more like frustrated attempts to burn off nervous energy. The week had been hard on her—the uncertainty, her mother’s barely-concealed worry, the general atmosphere of tension throughout the compound.

But she showed up every day. Kept training. Kept trying.

“Morning,” Yami called out as he approached.

Yui looked up, offering a wan smile. “Morning. You look… I don’t know. Different? Did something happen?”

“Nothing, just feeling happy,” Yami said simply.

“That’s great!” Some genuine enthusiasm crept into Yui’s voice. “Are you going to start learning jutsu now? Mother says you can’t really do proper ninja techniques until you have Genin-level chakra capacity.”

“Actually, I was hoping you could help me with that.” Yami paused, suddenly uncertain despite his planning. “Could you teach me chakra control exercises? I know you’ve been studying them at the Academy.”

Yui blinked, clearly surprised. “You want me to teach you?”

“You’ve had two years of formal instruction. I’ve had none. So yeah, you’re definitely more qualified.”

A complicated expression crossed Yui’s face—pleasure at being asked, uncertainty about her own abilities, something that might have been pride. “I… okay. Yes. I can teach you the basic exercises. But I’m not that good at them myself, so—”

“That’s fine,” Yami interrupted. “I just need to learn the fundamentals. We can figure it out together.”

Yui’s smile became more genuine. “Okay. Let’s start with the Leaf Concentration Exercise. It’s the first thing they teach at the Academy.”

She pulled out a small leaf from her pocket—she’d apparently taken to carrying them specifically for practice—and demonstrated the technique. “You place the leaf on your forehead and use chakra to hold it there. The trick is steady, consistent chakra flow. Not too much, not too little. Just enough to create adhesion.”

She pressed the leaf to her forehead, closing her eyes in concentration. The leaf stuck there, held in place by invisible energy. “See? You mold the chakra in your core, then direct it to the specific point where you want it. Maintain the flow, keep it steady…”

The leaf remained in place for perhaps thirty seconds before fluttering to the ground. Yui caught it with a sigh. “I can’t hold it for very long yet. The Academy instructors say I need to work on consistency.”

“Can I try?” Yami asked, taking the leaf she offered.

He pressed it to his forehead the way she’d demonstrated, then reached for his chakra. He’d done this before with the Sharingan—molding energy, directing it to a specific point. This should work the same way, just without activating his bloodline.

Focus. Mold. Direct. Maintain.

The leaf stuck.

[New Skill Acquired: Chakra Control Lv0]
[Experience Required for Next Level: 100 EXP]

Yami felt the drain immediately—not on his chakra pool, but on his focus. The mental effort of maintaining consistent flow, of keeping the energy steady without fluctuation. It was like trying to hold a single muscle perfectly still; possible, but requiring constant attention.

[Chakra Control: +8 EXP]

The notification surprised him. Eight experience per minute? That meant he could level the skill to level 1 in less than thirteen minutes of practice.

That couldn’t be right. Could it?

“How long does it usually take to master this exercise?” he asked Yui, keeping the leaf in place through sheer determination.

“Master? Like, hold it perfectly for several minutes? Most Academy students need a few months of regular practice.” Yui was watching him with growing surprise. “Why? Are you having trouble? The leaf is still on your forehead…”

It had been over a minute now. Yami could feel the strain, but his enhanced stamina from 100 Vitality made it manageable. And every minute, another 8 EXP ticked into the skill.

He kept going. Five minutes. Ten minutes. The mental fatigue was building, but nowhere near as fast as it would have for a normal child.

[Chakra Control: +80 EXP]

Thirteen minutes.

[Chakra Control: +100 EXP]
[SKILL LEVEL UP!]
[Chakra Control: Lv0 → Lv1]

Suddenly, the exercise became easy. Not effortless, but the strain reduced dramatically. The chakra flow stabilized, became smooth and natural rather than forced. The leaf stuck to his forehead like it had been glued there.

Yami let it drop after another minute, staring at Yui with barely contained excitement. “How was that?”

“That was…” Yui’s mouth opened and closed several times. “You just… you held it for almost twenty minutes on your first try. That’s not normal. That’s not even close to normal.” Her expression shifted between amazement and something that might have been envy. “It took me five months of practice to be able to hold it for five minutes consistently!”

“Maybe I just have good chakra control naturally?” Yami offered weakly.

“That’s not how it works!” Yui’s voice rose slightly. “Chakra control is a learned skill! It takes practice and repetition and… and…” She threw her hands up. “This is so unfair! Do you know how hard I worked to get where I am?”

“I know,” Yami said quietly. “And I’m not trying to diminish that. But Yui, if I have some natural talent for this, that doesn’t make your effort any less valuable. You’re still teaching me. Without you, I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

That seemed to mollify her somewhat. She took a deep breath, visibly collecting herself. “You’re right. Sorry. It’s just… frustrating sometimes. Seeing other people do easily what I struggle with.”

“Trust me, I understand frustration,” Yami said with feeling. “There’s a lot I struggle with too. We all have different strengths.”

Yui nodded, her expression softening. “Okay. Well, if you’ve mastered the Leaf Concentration, the next exercise is tree climbing. But not normal climbing—using chakra to stick to the surface. You direct chakra to the soles of your feet and walk up the trunk.”

She demonstrated by walking several steps up a nearby tree before losing her footing and dropping back to the ground. “See? Harder than it looks. The amount of chakra has to be exactly right—too little and you fall, too much and you repel yourself away from the surface. And you have to adjust constantly as you move.”

Yami studied the tree, then checked his skill notification:

[Chakra Control Lv1]
[Experience Required for Next Level: 500 EXP]
[Note: Level 2 represents Chunin-class chakra control]

Five hundred EXP for the next level. At eight EXP per minute with tree walking—assuming it gave the same rate—that would be… over an hour of continuous practice. Doable, but significantly harder than the first level.

“Can I try?” he asked.

“Sure. Just mark your progress with a kunai scratch so you can track improvement.” Yui handed him a training kunai.

Yami approached the tree, focusing on his feet the way Yui had described. Mold chakra. Direct it to the soles. Maintain flow. Adjust for movement.

He took a step.

His foot stuck to the bark. He took another step. Then another.

Three steps up before his concentration wavered and he fell back to the ground.

[Chakra Control: +8 EXP]

He blinked at the notification. Point-five experience? So tree walking gave half the rate of leaf concentration, which made sense—it was a harder exercise.

But that meant he’d need over an hour of continuous practice to reach level 2.

“That was good!” Yui called encouragingly. “Three steps on your first try is really good! I could barely manage one.”

Yami tried again. And again. And again.

The training ground slowly filled with the sounds of his efforts—footsteps on bark, occasional falls, Yui’s commentary and encouragement. Other Uchiha started trickling in as the morning progressed, though the numbers were still far below normal. Most adults remained preoccupied with the relocation crisis.

But for Yami and Yui, in this moment, the outside world faded. There was just the tree, the chakra, the steady accumulation of skill and experience.

It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t dramatic.

But it was progress. Real, measurable, undeniable progress.

And in a world spiraling toward chaos, sometimes that was enough.