Optimize the Illusionary Game

Namikaze Minato's blind trust in Kai was both touching and stressful for him.

After all, Kai knew himself well—he didn't have the insane creative genius of someone like Tobirama Senju.

He was just copying ideas!

Who couldn't copy homework?

Sure, being a "plagiarist" could still get you far, even make you a "master," but to become a true master, you needed the talent to recreate those plagiarized works, right?

In the modern world, that meant having a perfect memory to recall and reproduce classic works. In the Shinobi world, it meant having the basic talents of a ninja.

Unfortunately, Kai lacked the natural talents needed to be a top-tier ninja. His so-called "creativity" was nothing more than cheap ideas—ideas that, once used, wouldn't come back.

Being self-aware is important, and Kai fully understood his limitations. So, while Minato's praise was flattering, Kai didn't take it seriously at all.

However, Minato's suggestion to further develop the illusionary game struck a chord with Kai.

Even though the illusionary game wasn't some secret jutsu unique to the Shinobi world but a strange fusion of system-based high-tech and the Sharingan, there was no harm in pretending it was a secret technique.

After all, secret techniques in the Shinobi world were private, exclusive abilities usually kept within a clan or individual. They didn't need to be publicly disclosed.

While some families or individuals voluntarily shared their techniques with the higher-ups of Konoha, those with enough power and backing could protect their secret arts.

And Kai, despite not being a favorite within the Uchiha clan, was still a member of the prestigious Uchiha family. Even if he felt no attachment to them, the Uchiha were fiercely protective of their own.

Sure, he wasn't popular within the clan, but if any outsider tried to bully or force him, the situation would change.

Internally, someone might suggest that Kai should hand over his "secret technique" to the clan. However, the proud and haughty Uchiha weren't in the habit of forcefully seizing their members' personal techniques.

If you voluntarily handed it over, the clan would reward you. If you didn't, some people might be annoyed, but they wouldn't force it out of you. They'd just arrogantly believe that you'd eventually come to your senses and hand it over willingly. Historically, many Uchiha who developed secret techniques followed this pattern.

But if an outsider tried to force you to give up your secret, that was a different story. The Uchiha were notoriously united and hostile to outsiders. If anyone dared to threaten one of their own, they could expect to be hunted down by the clan's notorious red-eyed warriors.

That's the Uchiha way.

Before the Nine-Tails attack, while the Uchiha might not have held official power within Konoha, their influence was undeniable. Even Danzo, the shadowy figure pulling strings from the background, didn't dare openly challenge the Uchiha.

People underestimated the power of Konoha's founding clan.

It wasn't until the Nine-Tails incident, manipulated by Obito Uchiha and the appearance of the massive Sharingan controlling the beast, that Konoha's higher-ups found an excuse to crush the Uchiha's influence, pushing them out of the village's core areas.

But even after that, the Uchiha clan only truly lost their secret techniques after Itachi Uchiha wiped them out.

So, for now, Kai could easily protect his "secret technique."

As for the future?

In a few years, he would either leave Konoha or gain enough power through the system to defend himself. By then, would he care about Konoha's higher-ups?

If the system's rewards were powerful enough, who knows? He might even confront Konoha's elite, declaring, "I only want to protect 'my' Konoha. Do you traitors to the Will of Fire understand?"

Just imagining it made him a bit excited.

Of course, even if he wanted to become a hero who didn't eat beef, that was something for the future. For now, he was still a small fry and needed to solve the game's promotion problem first.

Optimization was a must. The current "game operation" method, where only one person could play at a time and the game lasted as long as Kai could endure, was far too inefficient and inconvenient.

But figuring out how to improve it required some thought.

After their conversation, the two headed to Konoha's famous Ichiraku Ramen for a meal. After all, it was almost noon after their lengthy gaming session.

Unlike his middle-aged appearance in the original story, the owner of Ichiraku Ramen in Konoha Year 46 was still a young man in his twenties. He had only moved to Konoha a few years ago, and his daughter Ayame wasn't even born yet. The shop was still a humble street-side noodle stall with little fame.

But thanks to Kai's fond memories, he had become a regular customer as soon as the shop opened.

And the food? It was pretty good.

Even Minato had been introduced to Ichiraku Ramen by Kai and had come to enjoy it.

After finishing their delicious ramen, the two strolled through the streets, and Minato brought the conversation back to the game.

"Kai, when can I play again?"

Kai raised an eyebrow. "Haven't had enough?"

Minato sheepishly scratched his head. "It's really fun, and I want to see the game's ending... I also want to know the final fate of the character I was playing."

Kai smirked. "Oh? I thought you were too busy avoiding traps and fighting ghosts to care about the story. Turns out you were digging into the game's plot, huh?"

Minato chuckled. "Hey, I am a Jonin, after all. Gathering intelligence is one of our most basic skills."

"Even though the story fragments were scattered, the key information was all there."

Kai nodded. "Given your skills, it's no surprise you pieced the story together. Even though the narrative is fragmented, you'd have no trouble reconstructing it."

The illusionary game, Return Home, didn't present its story in a straightforward manner. Instead, the narrative was hidden within the gameplay, scattered across fragments of text and clues.

These elements were placed throughout the game's environments, left for players to discover, but nothing could be taken with them—miss it, and it's gone.

While missing these clues didn't prevent players from finishing the game, those who didn't actively seek out the plot would likely complete it without fully understanding the story.

But Minato wasn't just any player. Despite appearing to rush through, focusing only on combat like any other inexperienced player, he had picked up all the hidden story elements in the background.

Even now, after leaving the game, he had pieced together a fairly complete picture of the plot in his mind.

Minato deduced that the character he played was a Konoha ninja who had survived the Shinobi Wars and witnessed its horrors. Those experiences left him with immense negative emotions, which attracted vengeful spirits.

Moreover, since this ninja had killed many people, he was cursed by those he had slain.

So, when the Shinobi Wars ended, and the "protagonist" was supposed to return home and rest, he found himself trapped in a cursed realm created by the spirits. To truly return home, he had to overcome all the obstacles in his way.

That was Minato's interpretation of the story.

In response, Kai said, "Well, you're not entirely right, but you're pretty close to the truth."

Minato scratched his head. "Huh? So, I didn't get it all? Is there more to the story?"

"Now I'm even more curious about the truth. I wonder when I can play the next part."

He sighed wistfully. While he'd love to keep playing that afternoon, he had other commitments, so it would have to be a case of "next time, for sure."

To that, Kai could only think, You don't need to worry about 'next time,' Minato. You've already given me all the emotional value you can. I don't need you anymore.

Yes, even though Minato hadn't finished the game, he had already provided all the emotional points he could for this particular playthrough. In other words, his "usefulness" had been exhausted. Continuing would just be a classic case of occupying a spot without contributing.

Of course, Kai wouldn't actually stop Minato from playing. He wasn't the kind of person who saw veteran players as "annoying old-timers getting in the way of the game's development." Even if Minato weren't his close friend, Kai would still treat such loyal players with care.