Chapter 1: Naruto—I'm Back

“Congratulations, First-Class Sergeant Major Naruto Uzumaki, you are officially retired. From now on, you can enjoy a time of peace.”

The voice of a female officer echoed in Naruto’s ears.

Naruto’s eyes flew open and he sat up with a start.

There was no female officer before him, nor anyone else.

The air no longer carried the choking scent of coal ash, nor the sharp, unpleasant odor of chemical reagents.

The towering buildings and smoking chimneys had vanished long ago, and the sky above him was a flawless blue, unblemished by clouds or plumes of smoke.

“This is the Leaf Village. Yes, I’ve come back.”

Naruto gazed into the distance and spoke to himself.

Wherever his eyes fell, there were quaint villages surrounded by endless hills and forests.

Here stood the most iconic landmark of the village—the Hokage Rock.

On the sheer stone cliff, four enormous faces looked down upon everything.

Naruto was sitting atop the outermost, youngest face—the one most recently carved.

Scattered around him were various small metal objects.

He turned his gaze to these items and reached out his hand.

With a crackle of electricity, a force field radiated from his palm, enveloping the tiny metal pieces.

Soon, under the force field’s influence, the pieces assembled into a small puppet.

With a flick of his finger, the puppet sprang to life.

Brandishing a miniature table knife as a weapon, it performed a textbook routine of bayonet drills.

“If not for the lingering presence of mechanical energy, I’d almost believe it was all just a bizarre dream,” Naruto murmured, staring down at his hand.

No calluses, no scars, no wrinkles—just soft, fair skin.

“This is my hand—the hand I had when I was three years old.”

“I never would have imagined that my age would be reset to zero, back from thirty to three.”

Naruto gave a wry, self-deprecating smile.

On the outside, he looked like an ordinary three-year-old, but within that child’s body was the soul of a thirty-year-old man.

Just a few nights before, Naruto had journeyed in his sleep to another world.

That world had no chakra, no ninja; instead, it was filled with roaring machines, billowing steam, and whirring gears, producing an endless array of industrial marvels.

It was not a peaceful world. From a young age, Naruto had been swept up by war.

War had been his classroom, his forge; through it, he inherited the legacy of countless predecessors and became a combat engineer.

He rose to the highest rank a combat engineer could attain: First-Class Sergeant Major.

The war had just ended when he last closed his eyes.

With his savings, Naruto bought a luxury apartment, ready to live out his days in peace and comfort.

But when he opened his eyes again, the expected tomorrow never came. Instead, he found himself back in his homeland.

A sense of loss weighed upon him.

That other world had given him the companionship he’d longed for and everything he’d struggled to achieve throughout his life.

To be suddenly stripped of everything and returned to a home where he had nothing, without warning, left him hollow, as if waking from a dream.

Fortunately, he still had his mechanical energy.

Mechanical energy was a special power from that world, a technique akin to telekinesis or psychic force.

It allowed engineers to perform intricate, precise tasks and patch any mistakes or flaws.

So long as he retained this power, combined with his ingenuity and boundless imagination, there was nothing he couldn’t build—nothing an engineer couldn’t do!

Although his homeland, the ninja world—and especially the Leaf Village—was woefully lacking in industry, Naruto, accustomed to the comforts of an industrial society, found the primitive ways of his people rather hard to adjust to.

But he was confident that with mechanical energy, he could transform this world into one of gears and steam as well!

“Naruto, so this is where you are. I’ve been looking for you for ages.”

A gentle but aged voice spoke from behind him.

Naruto turned to see an old man, dressed in a loose kimono, hands clasped behind his back as he approached at an unhurried pace.

Naruto’s face broke into a smile.

“Grandpa Third!”

It was none other than the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi.

Naruto didn’t believe a word of Hiruzen’s claim. He’d long since realized that someone was keeping a close eye on him through certain special means.

He’d also noticed secret protectors in the shadows, and had seen with his own eyes how, after Hiruzen appeared, the guardians would salute him from afar.

So when Hiruzen claimed he’d been searching for him for a long time, Naruto didn’t buy it for a moment. The old man clearly always knew his whereabouts.

But on his face, Naruto kept his trademark foolish grin—the very smile that always put Hiruzen at ease.

Though Hiruzen appeared frail, Naruto did not underestimate him in the slightest.

As someone who had mastered mechanical energy and triumphed in countless battles, Naruto’s own senses were exceptionally keen.

Especially after realizing he had a natural gift for perception, Naruto had subjected himself to rigorous training to hone this ability.

In his former world, almost no one could approach him undetected.

That was why Naruto remained so wary of Hiruzen Sarutobi.

Hiruzen was one of the rare few who could silently enter within fifty meters of Naruto without being sensed.

Even the creepy old man who always lingered by Hiruzen’s side—a master of stealth and infiltration—struggled to get that close.

Hiruzen, unaware of Naruto’s inner thoughts, simply strolled over and sat down beside him.

His gaze fell on the small metal puppet, and his face twitched with a barely contained grimace.

The puppet’s movements had ceased, leaving behind nothing but a heap of misshapen scrap.

To Hiruzen, it looked like Naruto was just being mischievous, playing with junk.

“Naruto, it’s such a beautiful day. Why aren’t you outside playing?” Hiruzen folded his legs and sat next to him. “Look at all the children your age in the street. They’re all having fun. Don’t you want to join them?”

With the mind of a thirty-year-old, Naruto had no desire to play with a bunch of three-year-olds.

Besides, he could sense the malice that always lingered in the village, directed at him.

But that wasn’t something he’d say outright. Instead, he replied,

“I went to play in the woods yesterday, Grandpa Third. I’m a little tired today, so I wanted to just sit here and feel the breeze.”

As he spoke, he seemed to remember something, and pulled a small paper packet from his pouch.

“Look, Grandpa Third! I dug up these mushrooms in the forest! Aren’t they pretty?”

At the sight of the mushrooms, Hiruzen started, quickly snatching them from Naruto’s hand.

Naruto blinked his big eyes and asked innocently,

“What’s wrong, Grandpa Third? Do you like those mushrooms? Are they tasty?”

A cold sweat broke out on Hiruzen’s forehead.

“Naruto, you mustn’t eat these mushrooms!”

They were indeed beautiful—dreamlike blue, with little umbrella-shaped caps.

But these mushrooms were poisonous.

Hiruzen didn’t recall their exact name, only that they were not edible.

He did remember his medical apprentice mentioning something about them once—calling them ‘powder-gilled fungus.’