Filling out that Naruto CYOA had started as a fun way to spend an afternoon—or so I thought, in my professional opinion. I'd managed to create an Uzumaki-Uchiha-Senju tri-brid that combined the best perks of all three bloodlines, stacked on top of the most absurdly overpowered skills available. Kamui? Obviously. Tsukuyomi and Amaterasu? Of course. Rinnegan with Limbo clones like Madara had as the Ten-Tails Jinchūriki? Hell yes. A chakra pool rivaling a Tailed Beast and control that could make Sakura Haruno jealous? Why not?
And that wasn't even the half of it. Natural affinity for all elemental releases, full access to Wood Release, and the same Senjutsu used by the legendary Hashirama Senju. Throw in a few more perks for flavor, and I had built something truly godlike.
So what if I'd selected Easy Mode? I even made a full team of three similarly overpowered allies using the same number of points and managed to keep it—well, technically balanced. It was my little guilty pleasure. A harmless power fantasy.
What wasn't so harmless, however, was the sudden darkness that overtook my vision the moment I hit "Submit." One second, I was admiring my handiwork. The next, a pop-up slammed into my face like the world's most obnoxious system message.
Initializing… Loading terrain… Downloading consciousness… Inserting player into Dungeon ni Deai wo Motomeru no wa Machigatteiru Darou ka… Insertion complete. Welcome to DanMachi, and thank you for filling out the CYOA. You are now being transported to the outskirts of the city known as Orario. Please be patient and do not panic, Uchiha Itsuki. Have fun!
'The fuck!? I don't know anything about DanMachi, you prick!'
I gasped, blinking against a blinding light. My head throbbed, like I'd just been smacked with the world's worst hangover—but no, it was more like the aftershocks of a memory upload. Which, now that I think about it, it kind of was. I could feel it: the instincts, reflexes, and muscle memory of the absurdly powerful ninja I had designed. They were mine now.
A warm breeze swept across my face, carrying the scent of flowers and fresh earth, everything oddly peaceful. Birds chirped overhead, and the grass beneath me was cool against my back. When I sat up, I saw it: tall white walls in the distance, maybe ten minutes away by foot. They loomed against the sky like something pulled straight from a fantasy RPG. That had to be Orario.
Taking a moment, I assessed myself. I seem to be wearing the same outfit Obito had when he was sporting his long hair and going by the name Madara, though I did have a set of masks that Kakashi wears. My hair seemed to be long, going to about my upper back, and spiked, somewhere between Madara's wild mane and Hashirama's more flat style.
A quick inventory revealed that I was stacked. Kunai, shuriken, senbon, explosive tags, ninja wire, trap gear—you name it. I even had two very special items. The first was a thick tome: the Naruto Encyclopedia, courtesy of the True Otaku perk. Every jutsu, bloodline ability, fūinjutsu technique, and elemental transformation—all documented, diagrammed, and explained. I could learn anything, given time.
The second was a modified Bingo Book, this one filled not with rogue shinobi but monsters—creatures of this world, each one sketched in detail alongside stats, behavioral notes, and bounty information. A bestiary, stylized like a shinobi dossier.
The only thing I regretted not grabbing? The Icha Icha series. I didn't have enough points to squeeze it in. A tragic oversight, honestly. I always wondered what kind of depraved brilliance Jiraiya might've written had he lived longer.
Once I'd finished checking my gear, I stashed everything away with practiced ease. The motions were fluid, automatic—another perk of my build. I also decided to don one of the shinobi masks, and then I set off towards the city.
The walk to Orario was peaceful, almost deceptively so. The breeze carried the scent of grass and wildflowers, brushing softly against the fabric of my cloak as I made my way down the gently sloping hill. The sun hung high and warm in the sky, casting only faint shadows. For a moment, I let myself enjoy it. Birdsongs in the distance, rolling plains all around. The strange calm made it easy to forget the absurdity of everything that had just happened.
As I drew closer to the city gates, the ambient noise of civilization rose to meet me. The rumble of cart wheels, the murmur of conversation, the occasional shout of a merchant or traveler trying to cut through the crowd. A line had formed outside the gate—adventurers, traders, wanderers all waiting to be let in. I joined it without hesitation, moving in step with the others under the sharp eyes of the armored guards flanking the entrance.
No one stopped me. A few heads turned—some curious, some wary—but no one questioned my presence. I blended in just well enough.
The closer I got to the gate, the more real everything began to feel. The scale of the walls was immense up close, and the sheer number of people moving in and out of the city gave it a sense of weight and motion that no fantasy or CYOA sheet could ever capture.
It wasn't until I was nearly face to face with the guards that it hit me—I had no identification. Not a scrap of paper, not a name anyone in this world would recognize, and, like an idiot, I hadn't even bothered to prepare a convincing lie. Brilliant. Improvisation it was, then.
Fortunately, one of the perks I'd chosen was Acting, and I had every intention of making it earn its keep. If I was going to bluff my way into this city, I might as well enjoy myself. Time to put on a show. I would become Tobi.