devouring uchiha shisui at the beginning

Date: May 5, 51, Konoha. The weather was pleasant.

This marks the first entry in my new diary, a record of thoughts that carry a certain fire once transcribed.

In this life, I find myself transmigrated into Naruto, a world I've come to know through the pages of mangas from my previous existence.

Unlike the plots of other transmigration tales where foreign memories and bodies intertwine, I am a native of this world, born to my mother in October, untethered by any past identity.

Regrettably, my temporal voyage coincided with the Nine Tails Rebellion, mirroring Naruto's destiny.

In this lifetime, my father perished defending Konoha, while my mother succumbed to grave injuries shortly after protecting me from a falling boulder.

Despite Nine Tails' wrath, my family's home remained intact, allowing me to return after the care of the welfare director until my third birthday.

Since my parents here lack a surname, the village granted me the freedom to choose my own.

Leading me to use my name, 'Sato,' from my past life.

Though I now find myself in the world of Naruto, where the allure of mastering potent ninjutsu and mingling with renowned female characters awaits, my heart remains heavy.

This world is one of Kekkei Genkais and battles, epitomized by the internecine Ōtsutsuki conflict that determines its fate.

As a commoner devoid of such lineage, limited by the era, I can aspire to no more than a higher echelon.

Barring intervention, I may become mere cannon fodder in the Fourth Ninja World War, a casualty to Uchiha Madara's unparalleled might.

Thankfully, my mastery of Japanese, acquired during my previous life's college days, grants me early access to Chakra manipulation(books).

Today, on my third birthday, I tapped into this energy, unveiling an astonishing sight within me—a black bead, not merely within my physical form, but seemingly nestled within my very soul.

A connection to this enigmatic bead stirred in me, as if its message flowed into my mind.

It wasn't knowledge it conveyed, but rather an extraordinary ability. The bead bestowed upon me the power to devour.

This aptly named ability allows me to ingest and assimilate everything, converting my 'feast' into nourishment that bolsters my own strength.

To shift from a bloodless commoner to an insatiable powerhouse is exhilarating, even if it entails cannibalistic implications.

Impulses reminiscent of Kabuto's grave-robbing pursuits coursed through my thoughts, quickly quelled by the wisdom of adulthood.

In an era watched over by the Third Hokage's crystal telescoping gaze, tomb raiding teems with peril. Moreover, Konoha's alliance with the vanquished Uzumaki clan and its potent wards dissuade such reckless ventures.

My appetite is constrained. No tomb plundering, no consuming the living, and no hunting and devouring wildlife—until I ascend to Genin rank, the only option is... scavenging corpses.

Musing on this, the memory of Uchiha Shisui—the paramount figure of the Uchiha clan—loomed large. Possessing the infamous Sharingan, his allure is undeniable.

Devouring Shisui promises the Sharingan from "Legend of Eyes," alongside arcane illusions and the Body Flicker Technique, propelling me toward Kage-level prowess.

Yet, consuming Shisui proves a formidable undertaking. Thankfully, I possess years to prepare...

Within the heart of Konoha's bustling streets, within a modest abode, a three-year-old child with silver hair and crimson eyes poured his thoughts onto paper in flowing english script.

Upon penning these musings, he labored to temper his excitement before burning the pages to ash.

Cleansing the remnants, Sato drew steadying breaths, eyes shut in contemplation. As the reality of the bead's presence crystallized, his ruby Sharingan radiated with newfound hope.

Where once despair dwelled, ambition and anticipation now reigned.

A prospect to ascend to Six Paths supremacy, perhaps even surpassing it, illuminated his path, just one opportunity away from rebirth.

This transformed worldview permeated Sato's very being.

Diary stowed, he embarked on a stroll, regarding the Strongest Ninja Village anew. The world's air coursed through his senses, and he ventured to the market to secure provisions.

This world languishes in a disquieting state.

During the Sengoku epoch, life's average span scarcely exceeded thirty years, and even the Five Great Powers era only marginally extended longevity.

Endless conflict mars this world, ensnaring civilians in the wake of ninja battles, yielding a precocious youth molded by hardship.

Original characters like the pint-sized warriors who entered ninja schools at six and the nuanced life comprehension of a lone three-year-old Naruto come to mind.

Comparatively, I enjoy a more fortunate existence. A monthly stipend, a legacy from my parents, and a dwelling to call home are my birthright.

In contrast, Naruto lacks inheritance, grappling with alienation and, at times, cruelty. The intervention of the Third Hokage alone kept him from starvation.

Son of Hokage, Sato's upbringing vastly diverges. However, he remains disconnected from Konoha, a world his body claims as birthplace but his soul regards as alien.

Such foreign sentiments are common among traversers, driven by self-interest. Noble exceptions are rare.

With ample incentives, Sato harbors a latent resolve—to bring Konoha to its knees.

This determination catalyzed the awakening of his cannibalistic talent.

"If I'm the protagonist of a certain novel, it must be a grim saga," Sato pondered, navigating the streets with groceries in hand, his gaze cool, reserved for the world's superficial smiles.