NOVEL NEXT Chapter 9: Chapter 8:
Chapter 8:
…..
The morning air was cold, carrying the faint scent of burning wood from the chimneys scattered across the village. As usual, Itachi woke up early, slipping silently out of the small cabin where he and Xiao Wu were staying.
Although Mei had offered them a room in her house, Itachi had opted to keep some distance. Trust did not come easily to him, and the rented cabin gave him a sense of control over his surroundings—something he wouldn't have in someone else's home.
The hurried footsteps of merchants filled the streets as Itachi made his way to the market. One thing he had noticed over the past couple of days was that Nuoding City and its surrounding satellite towns were always bustling with activity. Whether it was early in the morning, late in the evening, or even in the dead of night, the movement never seemed to stop.
He paused in front of a group of men unloading a caravan stacked high with wooden barrels and heavy crates.
"Hey, kid, what are you doing here this early? This isn't a place for children," one of them said, wiping sweat from his brow.
Itachi, his face calm as ever, pointed at the crates.
"I can help. Just tell me how much you're paying"
The men chuckled at first, but their leader, a burly man with a thick beard, crossed his arms and gave Itachi a once-over.
"And what can a kid like you do?"
Without a word, Itachi stepped forward, grabbed one of the heavier crates, and lifted it with ease, leaving the men slack-jawed. He carried it to a nearby storage area, set it down carefully, and returned.
"Is that proof enough?"
The bearded man let out a low whistle, clearly impressed.
"You're a Spirit Master, aren't you?"
"Hn. Just starting"
"I see. Still, your strength is far above normal. Alright, we've got work for you…"
Itachi didn't respond. He simply nodded. After agreeing on a fair rate with the man in charge, he began unloading goods—barrels, crates, and other cargo that typically required multiple people to move. Knowing it was natural for them to hire someone with Spirit Power for such tasks, Itachi wasn't surprised when they hired him on the spot and offered decent pay for what was otherwise simple, mundane work. These caravans transported vital materials to the city, and finding strong laborers was always a priority.
While he carried the goods, his mind wandered far from the chatter and laughter of the men around him. His focus was on evaluating his movements, calculating his energy expenditure, and keeping a watchful eye on his surroundings. His Sharingan, hidden from view using the camouflage ability of his Spirit Bone, scanned the area with precision.
Every detail within his range was laid bare to him. The tense hands of a man hiding something in his belt, the wary gaze of a merchant guarding a pouch filled with coins—nothing escaped his notice. He remained vigilant, ready to respond to any potential trouble.
Since Itachi had stabilized much of his Spirit Power, he'd begun using all the abilities granted by his Skydream Crown Spirit Bone more actively. Although his Spirit Power wasn't fully settled yet, the improvement was significant enough to allow him to use these skills more consistently without adverse effects.
This included his Sharingan, his first Spirit Ring, and, most intriguingly, the ability of his Spirit Bone to create a Mirror Doppelganger—a physical clone of himself.
…..
The Mirror Doppelganger ability of the Skydream Crown had proven far more intricate than Itachi initially expected. The clone possessed 70% of his strength and was entirely independent in terms of energy and thought. Once created, it could meditate to regenerate its own Spirit Power and operate autonomously.
However, the clone remained intricately linked to Itachi. They could share information continuously, with any knowledge acquired by the clone transferring to Itachi in real time, and vice versa.
What fascinated him most was that he didn't need to wait for the clone to disappear to access its memories. He could "tune in" to the doppelganger, experiencing everything it did as a secondary stream of consciousness—or ignore it entirely to avoid distraction. This made the clone an extension of himself, free from the need for constant direction.
The clone could use all of Itachi's abilities and skills, behaving in ways almost identical to him. This independence allowed for far greater flexibility than if Itachi had to manually control its every move.
However, the skill came with a steep cost. Creating the clone consumed 70% of his Spirit Power, leaving him vulnerable until he recovered. While the clone could regenerate its own energy, this initial drain meant Itachi had to be strategic about when and how he used the ability. Furthermore, the clone was physically weaker than him and couldn't exceed 70% of his strength, limiting its usefulness in direct combat.
Through experiments, Itachi discovered additional limitations. For example, while the clone shared his abilities—such as the Sharingan and the Skydream Crown's powers—attempting to use Mirror Doppelganger with the clone to create another clone resulted in chaos. The previous clone would vanish instantly, and the newly created one was far weaker. Additionally, any physical progress, meditation, or cultivation done by the clone didn't transfer to Itachi upon its disappearance. Only the knowledge it gained returned to him.
This led Itachi to refine his strategy. Instead of relying on the clone for training or meditation, he used it for secondary tasks and information gathering. The clone operated in the shadows, constantly adopting false identities using the camouflage and illusion skills of the Skydream Crown. It performed similar work to what Itachi was doing now, such as hauling goods. Thanks to its ability to alter its appearance and conceal its Spirit Power completely, no one ever suspected a connection between the clone and Itachi—or even between the clone's different personas.
An invaluable advantage was the clone's inability to tire or sleep. While Itachi needed at least four or five hours of rest daily to maintain peak condition, the clone continued working. Whether gathering intel in taverns, investigating new information, or scouting for potential threats, the doppelganger worked tirelessly.
However, if it ran out of Spirit Power, it would vanish on its own.
Interestingly, Itachi couldn't dismiss the clone at will, but he could give it specific commands, including self-termination. Naturally, if the clone were killed, it would also disappear.
….
A few hours later, Itachi had single-handedly finished unloading all the cargo, leaving the merchants stunned.
"You're a monster, kid," said the bearded man, handing him a pouch of copper coins. Having someone with Spirit Power to help was a blessing for them. What would've taken an entire day with breaks was done in mere hours.
"Hn," Itachi replied with a simple nod, pocketing the money before disappearing into the crowd. He returned to the cabin where Xiao Wu was likely waking up and wondering where he'd gone.
Though she was gradually getting used to his habit of vanishing without warning, she still often complained when he did. It was a pattern that had repeated itself frequently during their previous stay in the village.
….
That night, after Xiao Wu had fallen into a deep sleep, Itachi slipped out of the cabin again—this time with a different goal.
He had heard about a gambling den on the outskirts of Nuoding City, a hotspot for traveling merchants seeking entertainment before continuing their journeys. Knowing such a place was perfect for earning quick money, Itachi decided to make it his next stop.
Using the abilities of his Spirit Bone, he altered his appearance, taking on the form of a rugged man in his thirties. His new face was weathered, marked by a faint scar on one cheek, and his plain, dusty clothes were designed not to draw attention. His goal was to accumulate money discreetly, step by step.
The gambling den was packed when he arrived, a noisy tavern filled with laughter, shouting, and the constant clinking of coins. The air reeked of alcohol and old wood, and the wary eyes of seasoned gamblers briefly scanned him as he entered.
With a calm, measured stride, Itachi ignored their stares and took a seat near a dice table.
From his position, he observed the flow of the game. The dealer—a man with quick fingers and sharp eyes—was clearly manipulating the results, ensuring most bets favored the house. To the average person, his sleight of hand was imperceptible: a slight twist of the wrist here, a subtle change in the angle of the dice there. But to Itachi's Sharingan-enhanced vision, every trick was as clear as day.
Instead of jumping into the game immediately, Itachi continued to watch. Each throw of the dice, every bet placed by the other players, and the dealer's patterns were carefully analyzed. The deception wasn't only in the dice but also in how the dealer guided the players into making poor bets. Most fell for his traps, placing large wagers right when he subtly shifted the outcomes in the house's favor.
When Itachi finally joined the game, his focus wasn't on the dice but on the dealer's reactions and the other players' behaviors. Activating his Sharingan—hidden by his Spirit Bone's camouflage—he ensured that his actions went unnoticed.
"Five coins on four," Itachi said calmly, placing a small stack of copper coins on the table.
The dealer rolled the dice, manipulating them just as Itachi had anticipated. However, thanks to his earlier observations, Itachi had strategically bet on a number likely to appear in this rigged round. The dice stopped, showing a four.
"Winner," the dealer muttered indifferently, pushing Itachi's winnings toward him.
Itachi didn't smile or celebrate. He simply nodded and collected the coins. Discretion was key.
Over the following rounds, Itachi continued placing small bets, monitoring how the dealer manipulated the game. His Sharingan allowed him to decipher the patterns in the dealer's movements—from the flick of his wrist to the force applied when throwing the dice.
It didn't take long for him to notice that the dealer didn't alter every round. Occasionally, he let the dice fall randomly to maintain the illusion of fairness. These were the rounds when Itachi placed slightly larger bets, ensuring favorable outcomes by predicting the dice's natural behavior.
After several successful rounds, Itachi adjusted his strategy. He identified two veteran players at the table, both aggressive but predictable in their betting. Feigning insecurity, he deliberately lost a few rounds, allowing these players to win small amounts. This made them, and the dealer, underestimate him, seeing him as a typical gambler running out of luck.
When Itachi finally placed a larger bet, he timed it perfectly, choosing a moment when the dealer wouldn't interfere and when the veteran players bet against him. The dice rolled and landed on the exact number Itachi had predicted.
"Winner," the dealer announced again, this time with a slight edge of irritation in his voice.
The pile of coins in front of Itachi had grown significantly. To any casual observer, it seemed he'd simply had a streak of good luck. In reality, every move had been meticulously calculated.
Deciding not to overstay his welcome, Itachi chose to leave. It wouldn't be wise to remain too long under this disguise, though he could always return in a different guise or send his clone to continue the task.
As Itachi gathered his coins, one of the veteran players—a man with a scar on his chin—gave him a hard look.
"Lucky night, huh, old man?" the scarred man said, his smile cold and humorless.
Keeping his calm demeanor, Itachi replied, "Sometimes luck favors you. But I prefer not to push it."
Without waiting for a response, he stood and left.
However, as he walked through the dark streets, he noticed he was being followed.
His Sharingan, still active, caught the figures of two men tailing him at a cautious distance. Picking up his pace slightly, he led them into a more secluded alley. Once there, he stopped and waited.
The two men appeared moments later. The scarred man grinned widely.
"Hey, friend, we don't want trouble. But it'd be nice if you shared some of that luck from earlier," he said.
The other man, younger, drew a knife from his belt.
"Yeah, no need to get hurt. Just hand over your winnings."
Itachi observed them silently, calculating their movements. While the situation seemed unnecessary—neither of them were Spirit Masters, and therefore no real threat—he remained vigilant.
When the knife-wielding man approached, Itachi moved with a speed they hadn't anticipated. A swift step forward, and he activated a light genjutsu, causing both men to stagger. The Sharingan projected a distorted image of Itachi, making it appear as if he had multiplied into shadows.
"What the hell…?" the scarred man muttered, retreating as a chill of fear crept over him. He was starting to realize they had picked the wrong target. A spirit master...
"W-Who are you?" stammered the younger man, now visibly shaking.
Itachi didn't answer. He didn't need words.
Before either could recover, he appeared behind them, delivering precise strikes to the backs of their necks, rendering them unconscious.
Then, for the first time in this world, Itachi stained his hands with blood—but for a practical and necessary reason.
After disposing of their bodies, he vanished into the shadows.
…..
When he returned to the cabin, Xiao Wu was still sound asleep.
Carefully storing his earnings, Itachi felt satisfied with the night's progress. Tomorrow, his clone would take over the task while he focused on other matters.