In the Shinobi World, at the center of the continent, deep within a jungle shaded by dense tree canopies—
A young ninja was staggering forward, pushing deeper into the uninhabited forest.
He looked no older than fourteen or fifteen, his clothes tattered and torn, stained with fresh blood across his chest and back. His steps were unsteady, each movement sluggish, as if he might collapse at any moment.
By sheer luck, he had temporarily shaken off his pursuers.
His name was Hanemiya Genshin, a member of a small ninja clan known as the Hanemiya Clan, and the nephew of the former clan leader. A month ago, the old clan leader died in battle. A week ago, his cousin—the newly appointed clan leader—was also killed in combat. That left him as the newly-new clan leader.
Three days ago, during a skirmish, he volunteered to act as a decoy in order to buy time for the others to escape. After luring away the enemy and barely surviving the pursuit, he was now trying to reach the designated rendezvous point.
That was the gist of his situation. Well—there was one more critical detail: he was a transmigrator.
A year ago, for reasons unknown, his soul had crossed over into this world and taken over the body of this boy named Genshin.
When he first arrived in the Shinobi World, he thought he was going to follow the classic "cheat system" route and become a world-shaking protagonist. But it quickly became apparent that he didn't have a system at all.
Next, he hoped to rely on his knowledge of Naruto's timeline and key events to carve out a smooth "genius route." But so far, he'd only reached the level of a Chūnin, with no sign of further progress on the horizon.
Eventually, he came to a painful realization: maybe he was stuck on the long-outdated "tragic loser" route.
But even that was wishful thinking. At this moment, he finally understood—he was on the "cannon fodder" route all along. Born ordinary, he was destined to be sacrificed. His journey through this world had only just begun, and it already looked like it might end soon.
Though he couldn't pinpoint the exact time period, Genshin was fairly certain he had arrived during the Warring Clans era—before the establishment of the Hidden Villages. It was a chaotic and brutal age, a time of violence and survival, where countless minor clans were doomed to extinction.
As he trudged forward, his foot caught on something. He stumbled and fell face-first to the ground.
He hadn't slept in three full days. Starvation and exhaustion had left him nearly immobile.
No matter what, he needed to eat something—anything—to restore his energy. But he had long since run out of supplies.
Still, heaven never seals all paths.
Struggling, Genshin lifted his head and forced his eyes open. Blurry shapes swam in his vision, but he thought he saw something growing on the ground not far ahead.
"Mushrooms..."
Mushrooms were better than tree bark. Desperate, he crawled forward on all fours, reached out, and plucked what looked like a fat king oyster mushroom. Without hesitation, he shoved it into his mouth and swallowed it down in a few quick bites.
Only after eating did he realize that the place where the mushroom had grown was… odd.
The mushrooms had sprouted from a half-buried "tree stump." Surrounding it were pale white pitcher plants, and atop the stump grew aloe-like leaves, a vivid green as if freshly painted. Thinking back, the mushroom had tasted unusually oily and rich...
"…"
Genshin's expression turned blank. A strange sense of déjà vu overcame him, as if he were seeing something oddly familiar.
Looking closely at the stump, he realized with a jolt that a twisted human face was growing from it.
"Huh… huh? Huh!"
After arriving in the Shinobi World, Genshin had often lamented his low status—how he had never met any familiar characters or witnessed any key events. But now, at last, he had encountered a major figure from the original series:
A White Zetsu. A dead one, at that.
The "mushroom" he had just eaten had grown from White Zetsu's eye socket.
Genshin was instantly filled with dread. Theoretically, he had just consumed the filthiest, most unhygienic thing in the entire Shinobi World.
No—this wasn't just about hygiene. That thing probably had side effects. It might even be fatal.
Without warning, Genshin's whole body was seized by agony. His limbs jerked uncontrollably, convulsing violently. He felt like he was being twisted into a pretzel. No matter how hard he clenched his jaw, muffled groans escaped from deep in his throat. The unbearable pain began to strip away his consciousness.
"If only I'd boiled it first..."
That was his final thought before blacking out.
About ten minutes passed before the convulsions finally stopped.
Silence returned to the forest. Genshin lay curled on the ground. At some point, his skin had turned ghostly white.
Clearly, something was changing.
Three hours later, the pale color gradually faded, and his body returned to its normal appearance.
A crushing sense of suffocation jolted Genshin awake. He gasped and shot upright, falling to his knees, supporting himself with trembling arms as he hacked violently.
Pale, sap-like liquid spewed from his mouth, coating the ground in front of him. Only when the coughing stopped and his breath returned did the forest floor stop glistening with the fluid.
"Huff..."
He exhaled deeply, then slowly pushed himself upright with the help of a nearby tree. A heavy, indescribable expression filled his face—part solemn, part confused.
He didn't know exactly what had happened, but his body felt drastically different. His wounds had healed. His mind was clear. He felt lighter, stronger—as if he had just gained +10 to Constitution and +10 to Chakra.
Before, he was just an average Chūnin, one of countless nameless ninjas in the world. But now, it felt like he could almost reach the "Kakashi Line" with just a bit more effort.
Strangely, he also seemed to have inherited some kind of instinct or knowledge. It wasn't something he could describe, but he knew he had gained new abilities.
He lifted his left arm. With a thought, it turned stark white, the skin textured like peeled bark. In another moment, the white spread across his entire body.
In some sense, he had become a White Zetsu.
"White Zetsu..."
Genshin could hardly believe it.
Everyone knows: a person bitten by a spider becomes Spider-Man. So after eating a mushroom that grew on White Zetsu's corpse and undergoing this transformation, it seemed only right to call himself...
White Zetsu-Man.
"At the end of the day, it's just a broke guy mutating to survive, huh?"
Having recklessly eaten the mushroom, Genshin suspected he had somehow merged with White Zetsu. This fusion had significantly strengthened him—and even granted him some of White Zetsu's unique abilities.
His transformation was worth studying in depth. But now wasn't the time.
The rustling of cloth against leaves reached his ears. Genshin instantly tensed. From the sound alone, he guessed that a squad of at least ten ninjas was approaching.
He hid without hesitation.
Roughly fifteen minutes later, the ninja group stopped nearby. No—it wasn't coincidence. Upon seeing their faces clearly, Genshin immediately revealed himself.
These ninjas were his own clansmen.
Apparently, he had reached the rendezvous point just before losing consciousness.
"Clan leader!"
Genshin's sudden appearance startled the others. But once they recognized him, they relaxed.
"Only you guys made it?" Genshin asked calmly.
Sixteen ninja had gathered. Most were young men. As for the others who hadn't arrived—their fate was easy to guess.
"Clan leader, we..." one of them began, guilt written all over his face.
Genshin raised a hand to silence him. His expression remained composed. "It's not your fault. Looks like I didn't do a good job distracting the enemy."
"Clan leader, their forces far outnumber ours. We… we were powerless." The ninja lowered his head, crushed by the weight of failure.
In both numbers and strength, the enemy was overwhelming.
"What about the pursuers? Did you shake them?" Genshin asked again.
"No. At most, we have four or five hours. They'll catch up… They've got tracking ninja. We can't escape."
Whether anyone saw it or not, the fate of a small ninja clan would still arrive—calm and inevitable.