Naruto's Dump Station

Chapter 1 - Kiba Village

Chapter 1: Kiba Village

“Alas… to come to such a world. I do not know if it is the favor of the Goddess of Luck or the mischief of the Goddess of Doom.”

A child spoke, his small face clouded with both disappointment and frustration.

This child was Ruofeng, who appeared no older than four or five. He rested his chin on his hands, sitting in a clear and light courtyard, a modest pool stretching out before him. His simple yet clean garments suggested wealth—not just any wealth, but one tied to power and influence.

A faint sadness flickered in Ruofeng’s eyes as he gazed into the distance. There, against a mountain wall, stood several stone statues.

“First generation, second generation, third generation… where is the fourth? Why do we not see the fourth generation?” he muttered. “The Third Hokage’s reign was not long ago, and the Second Shinobi World War has already turned the land to scorched earth. This era is tragic no matter how you look at it. After all, this is the wartime period of the Naruto world. It may not be the bloody beginning of the war, but we are already deep into its most destructive phase. And at my age, if I become a ninja, I will surely be thrown into the war’s final battles. Even if I survive that, World War III is just on the horizon.”

Yes, Ruofeng had crossed into the world of Naruto. Originally, he had been an ordinary earthling—neither a full-fledged otaku nor a complete social outcast. Yet somehow, he had found himself here. The absurdity of it still baffled him.

Ever since his birth, Ruofeng had known that he was in the Naruto world. The moment he opened his eyes, he saw a familiar pair of scarlet eyes staring at him. There was no mistaking it—if those were not the Sharingan, then nothing was.

Although he had never seen those eyes again, he had gathered enough information over time to confirm that this was indeed the world of Naruto. But this was not the anime from Earth, nor the manga. This was a real, living world, one where things unfolded differently from the idealized version he had known.

In the manga, everything seemed to be about passion and heroism, but Ruofeng understood that behind that idealistic vision lay a much grimmer reality.

From the moment he could comprehend the world, he had realized how high the status of ninjas was. Those who possessed chakra stood above others by default. Perhaps in Kiba, civilians and ninjas coexisted somewhat peacefully, but outside the village, such harmony was rare. In many other shinobi villages, civilians were either tolerated or outright ignored. Outside the security of a hidden village, commoners were no different from ants before the power of a shinobi.

Even among ninjas, hierarchy existed. Those from bloodline clans were the elite. Those with secret arts held power. And civilian-born ninjas? They were at the bottom.

Knowing this, Ruofeng harbored no delusions of mediocrity. He had come to the Naruto world, and if he did not become a ninja, what else could he do? When the village faced destruction, money would not save him.

He refused to let his fate rest in the hands of others. His destiny would be his own.

But there was a problem—Ruofeng had no family name, just like the commoners. Although he had a wealthy grandfather who controlled two-thirds of Kiba Village’s hot springs business, that wealth meant nothing compared to the power of a true ninja clan.

And yet, Ruofeng could not shake the feeling that his origins were extraordinary. After all, those scarlet eyes had looked at him with a hint of hatred. There was no mistaking it—those had been the Sharingan. Why would a wielder of the Sharingan look at him with such emotions? His connection to them could not be ordinary.

As Ruofeng grew older, he learned that his parents had died when he was born. His only living relative was his grandfather. But his grandfather never spoke of ninja matters. He never mentioned Ruofeng’s parents, nor did he train him in any way. The only thing he provided was money, ensuring Ruofeng lived in comfort.

Ruofeng had tried

Meanwhile, civilian-born ninjas trained in the most basic ways, relying on talent and effort alone. That was the difference.

Even within the academy, students were divided into classes based on potential. The more promising ones received better instructors. Exceptional students were taken under the wing of experienced Jonin. The truly gifted ones might even become personal disciples of elite ninjas.

Ruofeng understood this reality. He knew his path would not be easy. But if he wanted to survive in this world, he had no choice but to forge his way forward.

And so, his preparations continued.