Chapter 31: The Inherited Forehead Protection
"High risk, high reward," Qifeng muttered to himself, surveying his domain with the satisfaction of a particularly morbid businessman taking inventory. His bandaged arms crossed as he admired the fully stocked morgue. "Nothing like a good war to boost the quarterly earnings."
The twisted satisfaction he felt looking at a room full of corpses would probably send most people running for the nearest therapist. Hell, if he ever managed to find someone willing to date a guy whose idea of workplace satisfaction involved dead bodies, the relationship conversations would be... interesting.
"Honey, do you love me or your job more?"
"Well, my job involves corpses, and they're much less demanding than you are."
He could practically hear the door slamming already.
But priorities were priorities, and in a world where survival depended on getting stronger, emotions were a luxury he couldn't afford. Love wouldn't help him dodge a kunai to the throat.
"Wait a minute." Qifeng paused mid-thought, his brain catching up with recent observations. "If I'm not going to the front lines, shouldn't the bodies still be coming to me?"
He frowned, processing the implications. The steady stream of corpses had definitely slowed down lately, especially the high-value jonin bodies—both Konoha's and their enemies'.
"Someone's intercepting my merchandise," he realized, his expression shifting from confusion to annoyance. "Either that, or there's some other disposal method I don't know about."
The pieces clicked together with the satisfying precision of a well-oiled trap. Politics. Of course. Even in death, the powerful had value that certain people preferred to keep controlled.
He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag while contemplating the bureaucratic nonsense that was apparently cutting into his business model.
Ever since Guy had taken over the cleaning duties, the morgue had become spotless—so clean that Qifeng was running out of legitimate tasks to assign the kid. He'd been forced to get creative with the make-work, which was its own special kind of awkward.
"Whatever," he exhaled smoke with the resignation of someone who'd learned not to fight battles he couldn't win. "War's coming anyway. Business will pick up soon enough."
He turned his attention back to the current inventory, and his mood immediately improved.
Eleven jonin corpses. Eleven. Including the seven Iwagakure specialists that Orochimaru had turned into cautionary tales, the Konoha casualties from the same battle, and the ones recovered from the Toramori outpost. Plus the one he'd personally contributed to the collection—Doishi, the Iwagakure jonin who'd made the mistake of underestimating a supposedly mediocre genin.
Add in the chunin-level bodies, and he was looking at thirty-six premium opportunities for advancement.
His hands actually trembled with anticipation. It was like Christmas morning, if Christmas involved rifling through the pockets of the recently deceased for supernatural power-ups.
The only downside was time. He had limited daily attempts, and families would eventually claim their dead. Strategy was essential—prioritize the jonin, leave the foreign bodies for last since they wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon.
He approached the first Konoha jonin, cracking his knuckles like a pianist preparing for a challenging piece.
[Yellow corpse, success rate 30%, would you like to touch the corpse? (This time 3/3, today 9/9)]
[Yes!]
The familiar thrill never got old, regardless of the corpse quality.
[Fail!]
*[Success! Obtained the Shadow Clone Jutsu Ninjutsu Card!]*
[Fail!]
Qifeng felt his eyes actually water with relief. Finally! The Shadow Clone Technique—practically the first item on every ninja's wishlist, and he'd been operating without it like some kind of medieval peasant.
Sure, his training philosophy was more "absorb power from the dead" than "practice makes perfect," but even he recognized the tactical value of being able to be in multiple places at once. In a world where being outnumbered usually meant being dead, the ability to even the odds was invaluable.
He continued his twisted treasure hunt with renewed enthusiasm.
[Yellow corpse, success rate 30%, would you like to touch the corpse? (This time 3/3, today 6/9)]
[Yes!]
[Fail!]
[Fail!]
[Success! Obtained a random +3 improvement card for a single attribute!]
Simple but effective. Raw stat boosts were the bread and butter of his development strategy.
[Success! Obtained a random +3 improvement card for a single attribute!]
[Fail!]
[Success! Obtained the "Inherited Forehead Protection"!]
Qifeng paused, staring at the notification. Special equipment was always interesting, but the name suggested something with more significance than your average ninja tool.
The session had been remarkably successful—six attribute points worth of improvement in a few minutes, which normally would have taken him a week of regular corpse interaction. Sometimes the universe had a sense of humor about timing.
He activated the ninjutsu card and improvement cards immediately.
[Successfully learned the Shadow Clone Technique!]
[Genjustu +3!]
[Taijustu +3!]
His already impressive physical attributes climbed higher. At this rate, he'd be able to punch through walls just to show off.
Curious about his new acquisition, he examined the forehead protector's properties.
[Name: Inherited forehead protection (upgradeable)]
[Level: Level 1]
[Description: This is the inheritance of the ninja, infused with the will of several generations of ninjas]
[Effect: After wearing, Taijustu +2; Chakra +2;]
[Side Effect: The inheritance of the Will of Fire is unstoppable. Wearing it will subtly increase your sense of belonging to Konoha.]
[Note: The key to making a choice lies in your attitude]
Qifeng's eyebrows shot up. Upgradeable equipment was a first—and the implications were staggering. If this thing could improve over time, he might be wearing something legendary by the time he was done with it.
The current stats were solid—four points split between his most crucial attributes. But that "upgradeable" tag was what made this truly valuable. In a world where power was everything, unlimited potential was worth any price.
The only mystery was the upgrade mechanism. Did he need to achieve certain milestones? Collect specific materials? Kill particular enemies while wearing it?
Or—and this thought made him slightly uncomfortable—did he need to die and pass it on for it to improve? Because that seemed like a particularly useless feature from his current perspective.
The side effect was... interesting. Subliminal loyalty enhancement? It felt like something Sarutobi Hiruzen would design if he had access to magical equipment crafting.
He examined the physical item with a critical eye. It looked worn, well-used, with faint bloodstains on the fabric straps that suggested a history of violence. Not exactly fashionable, but functional equipment rarely prioritized aesthetics.
"Could've been a sword," he grumbled, swapping out his current forehead protector for the inherited one. "Infinitely upgradeable blade would've been much cooler."
The moment he secured it in place, he felt a subtle shift. Not overwhelming, but noticeable—like discovering he'd been slightly homesick without realizing it, and now he wasn't.
"So that's the brainwashing in action," he mused, testing the sensation. It wasn't unpleasant, just... warmer. Like Konoha had somehow become more appealing as a permanent residence.
He shrugged. The effect wasn't particularly concerning. Where else was he going to go? Become a missing-nin and spend his life running from hunter squads? Konoha was the safest place in the world for someone with his particular talents, and loyalty to the village didn't mean blind obedience to its more questionable leadership.
The Third Hokage and Danzo didn't own Konoha—they just worked there.
As the equipment settled into place, he felt his physical capabilities shift upward, crossing a threshold he'd been approaching for weeks.
[Overall evaluation improved——Elite Chunin!]
[Character: Maruyama Qifeng]
Age: 13 years old]
[Attributes: Fire, Earth]
[Strength: Elite Chunin]
[Bloodline Limit: Dead Bone Pulse (Medium), Sharingan (Single Magatama)]
[Taijustu : 50]
[Chakra : 30]
[Ninjustu: 25]
[Genjustu: 23]
[Control: 28]
[Hand Seals: 25]
[Physical Skills: Flowing Sword Technique]
[Ninjutsu: Three Body Techniques, Fire Style - Great Flame Flower, Earth Style - Rock Hidden Technique, Earth Style - Earth and Land Return, Fire Style - Flame Bullet, Water Style - Water Array Wall, Wind Style - Great Breakthrough, Shadow Clone Technique]
[Items: Houshi's Obsession, Inherited Forehead Guard (Wear)]
Elite Chunin at thirteen. Not bad for someone who'd started as thoroughly mediocre. His physical stats were now officially in the "mildly terrifying" category, and his chakra reserves had grown respectably.
But he was starting to recognize the limitations of pure attribute grinding. Numbers were important, but technique mattered too. Specifically, he needed to figure out how to actually use his bloodline abilities instead of just possessing them.
The Dead Bone Pulse was potentially devastating if properly developed, but right now it was like owning a sports car without knowing how to drive. The Sharingan was similar—useful for copying techniques and predicting movements, but only if he understood how to activate and control it effectively.
"Time to hit the books," he decided, stubbing out his cigarette. "Or find someone willing to teach the village's luckiest corpse-fondler how to turn bone manipulation into a proper combat art."
His talent for traditional training might be average, but bloodline development was less about raw ability and more about understanding the underlying principles. And if there was one thing Qifeng had confidence in, it was his ability to figure things out when his survival depended on it.
After all, he'd made it this far by being clever rather than naturally gifted. No reason to change strategies now.
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