This idea came to me last night when I finally had enough downtime to read the latest volume of Youjo Senki. It ain't much and I don't know how well it will be received but it was a blast to write. It puts a bit of a different twist on the Isekai genre. Or at least I hope it does.

Plus it opens the window for a long-run series like The Most Unlikely by Neon Zangetsu.

Anyway without further ado...

Disclaimer: I do NOT own any of the anime or characters who may appear in here. They are owned by their respective authors and copyright holders. I own nothing as I am a poor man who lives in an attic.

Bold: Exclamation

Bold Italics: Higher Being

Underlined: Time/location stamps

Italics Underline: Messages/letters/Ect.

Italics: Internal Thought


How would you describe hell? Brimstone and lakes of lava? An abusive household? Living with mental health issues? Cruel and abusive workplaces/schools? A boring mundane job with little variation? Not having a purpose?

Naruto von Wirbel would be the first to tell you his. The fucking Rhine theater of war. Nothing but mud, trenches, and sandbags. Barbed wire covered in the blood of his kin. Craters from artillery strikes. The still-warm bodies of his fellow soldiers. Burnt out husks of tanks and weapon emplacements littering the fields. A true hellscape for any soldier.

His luck seemed to have run out. He was surrounded by Francois Republic lapdogs as it stood. Shot the hell up with shrapnel wounds covering his body. Yet like a demon from hell he stood. He fought. When his MP 40 ran out of bullets, he used the gun as a club. Broke the arm of one sorry bastard and snapped another's neck. Shoved his bayonet in a random grunt and gutted him like a pig. When his gun was knocked from his hand, he took that bayonet and charged. A smile of pleasure took his features at the terrified faces of his enemies. Tore out the closest fucker's throat and stabbed his friend in the eye. The newly made corpses continued to pile up. His blade slick with blood he threw it into their commanders jugular. Now here he was just one man with fifty-plus bodies around him and fifty more soon to be dead men looking at him.

He had been sent behind enemy lines. Part of a Spec Ops group with no name. Strategic HQ had told his squad to get in the opposition's trenches and find a VIP. The VIP was a Republic Field Marshal for this area. They found the target and eliminated him when he wouldn't surrender. Everything went to shit after that. Mages, Special Forces, infantrymen the whole damned army came down on them. He didn't know any of the members of his squad. He was a lone wolf sniper. He was not an assassin or anything like that. Just a lone commando who would blow out your brains from a click away.

He felt like both cursing and praising 'God'. Fucking prick sent him here. 'You have no faith' he said. 'Learn to love your fellow man'. Fat fuck didn't need to take it so personally when he tried to stab him. Did he believe that being was god? Or at least a god?

Absolutely.

He grew up in a Shinto/Christian family. Japanese/German by blood he looked more European than Japanese. Before God called him out, he spent his time as a member of many Special Forces units. SAS, SEALS, Delta Force, Rangers, and Green Berets to name the bigger ones. Any country that was on the UN Security Council or in NATO employed him. Bodyguard, Trainer, Assassin, Mercenary, Hitman he was all of those. Sweeper would be the broad term. An international soldier with far too much skill and too much dirt. He was immune to reproach and everyone knew it. The USA and Russia were frequent 'customers'. Loose ends and all that fun stuff.

Anyway, he was busy taking out a terrorist cell in the middle east when time stops. Thinking he died or some shit he looked up and low and behold some fat bearded fuck looked right at him. Asking all these stupid questions about why he lost faith. Simple. He didn't need god to do what he did. He had seen those religious nuts like ISIS, so religion was a no go. But being raised like he had been still left lingering thoughts on the subject. So, he found an, in his opinion, happy middle ground.

Fuck religion. He was agnostic. No specific religion meant no specific pantheon. Fair right?

Nope!

Apparently, that pissed the god off quite a bit. Like Zeus levels of fury. Talk about anger issues. So, the big toga-wearing asshole, with an admittedly nice beard, started to prattle off on he was the true god and jazz. So, in his annoyance, Naruto tried to stab the guy. Totally reasonable right? You try preaching at a guy who kills religious zealots and terrorists all day. You're liable to be stabbed.

So, in the end, he was sent here as a child to grow up faithful. Dumb fuck even tried to curse him. Jokes on him. Naruto was already reincarnated before. That's how he knew that the god he talked to was a fraud. The True God had asked him to find rebellious minor gods and 'deal' with them. When he was Naruto Uzumaki, he had fought a minor god in the form of Kaguya.

On his deathbed, at the ripe age of 150, God asked him a favor. He wanted someone who would reincarnate in different worlds to find those who would usurp the balance. Being the kind, lovable, generous guy he was he said yes. The trade was that he would have an immortal soul. The body would come and go like any mortal one. But his soul was permanent and would remember every lifetime after turning 12 years old. Next was he couldn't be cursed by anyone other than the True God. Lastly, he could 'retire' anytime he wanted. Anytime he asked he could pass on the Pure Land with his friends and many, MANY lovers.

What he had reincarnated upwards of 100 times. He loved Hinata with all his heart, but she told him to always try and find love. Being the totally whipped husband he was, he did. Many women and on the odd occasion heteromorphic women had held his heart. When they passed on so did he. They were all in the Pure Land's waiting for him to be done.

Now on the other hand he would have to deal with this shit show. Born into the Empire as an orphan, because irony was a bitch, he joined the military. He had already told Kami (The True God) about what happened. It would take some time before punishments were doled out. Now all he had to do was live out his life and wait to die. During this life, he found himself a bit more sadistic and battle-hungry. Other than that, he was still a somewhat cheery/upbeat individual but knew when to be a quiet professional.

'Ya know… Living for 20 years before dying… Not a bad gig.' Welp if he was going to die then the fifty jackasses looking at him were coming with. Forcing his tired body to stand he grabbed a knife out of some poor bastards' corpse. The sound of a mage company fighting overhead sounded off in the distance. He was dead and he knew it. Probably enough bullets in him for a whole Luger P08 magazine.

"If I'm dyin today… Half you Republic fucks are comin with me so…" The 'demon' slurred. Wow, he was dizzy. Adrenaline and sheer force of will were all he had.

"LINE UP MAGGOTS! WHOS COMIN TO HELL WITH ME!" He was gearing up to dash when the whole group was evaporated in front of him. Covering his eyes

'Artillery spell? Mage for sure… But a blast that strong could only come from one mage…' Looking to the sky he did a double-take. Was that a fairy up there?

'White Silver…' He fell to his back a pool of red soon growing under him. It finally dawned on him. His kinsmen were safe with her in the air. He could die happy knowing the battle was well in hand. A splash off to his right drew his attention. She was beautiful. Short light brown hair that just barely brushed her shoulders. Her bangs slanted on her left side giving a mild windswept look. Bright green eyes that seemed to light the area with emotions. A slender build that was feminine but didn't detract from her presence as a mage. Even with the 203rd mage battalions' standard uniform, she looked like…

"I'll be damned… God sent an angel to pick me up… It's a fuckin miracle." The wounded man could only chuckle as he drifted into the realm of the unconscious.


Viktoriya Ivanovna Serebryakov, Visha for short, was a hardened mage in the Empires Mage Corp. She had left the Russy Federation as a child with her family during the violent civil war. Living with her family after running from the Red Army she lived a relatively modest life. Her uncle and aunt were kind enough to welcome them in their home in the Empire. When the war started and those magically adept were conscripted, she was drawn to the front lines under Tanya Degurechaff. Fighting in the Rhine theater was harsh and hazardous. Many times, she thought she should have been killed.

That all changed when Tanya and the first Lieutenant recommended her for OCS. After graduation, she was made the adjutant of the young ace for her new unit. Later being trained at the Alpen Mountains with the rest of the recruits. Now she was a Second Lieutenant in the 203rd Mage Battalion and SIC of First Company. The 203rd as a whole was led by Major Tanya von Degurechaff. They had been called back to the Rhine recently by Strategic HQ to help push back the attackers.

Sensing something off the young Major inquired about any secondary objectives. Impressed by her foresight she told the battalion that they were looking for an elite team of Spec Ops soldiers sent to infiltrate and assassinate the local Field Marshall. They spent most of today and the day before cutting through the many mage companies and various artillery positions. So far, they had found three of the four Spec Ops members dead. One by suicide the other two killed in combat. All that was left was the fourth. The Major had told them the primary objective was a blond-haired man with blue eyes and distinct markings on his face.

While First and Fourth Company were pushing the Republic mages back, they saw gunfighting in the distance. Taking a chance, the Major and Visha took First Company to investigate. You can imagine their surprise when they found their rescue target ripping and tearing through dozens of enemy soldiers. As they got into hearing range the man shocked them further. His uniform in tatters and visible wounds covering his body he stood back up.

"If I'm dyin today… Half you Republic fucks are comin with me so… LINE UP MAGGOTS! WHOS COMIN WITH ME TO HELL!" The silent agreement was rather profound. This man was an absolute badass. Tanya, ever the pragmatist, shelled the enemy group while silently commending the man. Three days of nonstop fighting. It was a shock they even found him. Viktoriya flying down to the man who was now bleeding out was stopped by his voice.

"I'll be damned… God sent an angel to pick me up… It's a fuckin miracle." The man was out cold after that which leads to Visha's current predicament. She was blushing like a schoolgirl talking to her crush for the first time. It took her a moment to compose herself before she picked up the man. Flying back to her company they retreated to the rear for debriefing and medical attention.


A week had gone by and the 203rd for the first time in months had time to relax. The operative, Naruto von Wirbel was scheduled for release from the hospital today. The officers of the 203rd were astonished by his injuries, even the stoic Tanya. 7 gunshot wounds, 6 shrapnel lacerations, multiple bone fractures, 3 broken ribs, dozens of smaller wounds, and near-fatal blood loss. He was slated for a full recovery and a shit load of medals. A knock on the door of their temporary barracks brought them to reality. Opening the door was the man himself with a soldier saluting as they entered.

The man was tall. Six feet tall with broad shoulders and a wiry build holding no baby fat. The man was intimidating or would be if not for his foxlike grin. Spikey blonde hair with two bangs framing his face ended just below the shoulder in a neat low ponytail. Almond-shaped cobalt blue orbs regarded them with hidden mirth as they scanned the room. His angular features, with slight rounding, were clear of any hair. Three whisker-like marks ran across each cheek further adding to the fox comparison. His outfit was unlike what they had seen in the army. (Look at Cover Art. Drawn/owned by lowes4dlnj on DeviantArt). The soldier brought attention to the mystery man himself.

"Is Major Tanya von Degurechaff here?" Not a second later and the woman(?) herself was there.

"Yes? Who is asking?" Clipped and to the point as always. The taller man motioned for the soldier to leave.

"I can answer that." The man in the armor walked forward his helmet/mask combo hooked to his hip. "I am Major Naruto von Wirbel. Special Forces under direct command from Strategic HQ. They talk about you quite often Major Degurechaff. You have a growing fan base there."


That's all I have for ya. Not much else to say sooooo...

Yall know my setup by now...

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And I will see you all in the next Fic

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