"Hey, Man!"
"Everyone, let's work together!"
"Gale winds, howl!"
"Your eyes will deceive you."
In the arena, the Cloud's dark-skinned brawler "Black Mamba," the warm-hearted blonde from the Leaf "Gairen," the cool silver-haired swordsman "Sayun," and the rogue genjutsu kunoichi "Midie" made their entrances.
Each game character appeared with a signature line and a flashy gesture—raising both hands with hip-hop flair, flashing warm smiles, slashing their blades with flair, or surrounded by fluttering violet phantom butterflies.
Every character had a distinct design and costume that made them instantly recognizable, completely different from how most real-world shinobi wore standardized gear.
Once the entry animations finished, the four boys controlling the avatars found themselves able to control their characters. To their shock, knowledge of each character's skills and combat styles flooded their minds. This kind of direct info-dump was unheard of in other genjutsu-based games.
Uchiha Kei explained it as a brand-new technology meant to drastically reduce the learning curve for new players.
Only the basics were transferred—what a character could do, their attack types, and combat flow. How to actually use these skills, when to use them, how to combo? That was for players to figure out.
Basically, it was: jump, slash, run, dodge, unleash a skill. That's it, you've got the controls down. Now go smash that Great Sage corpse and beat the crap out of that damn monkey!
For ordinary people, this was a game that was easy to start but hard to master—letting them feel what it's like to be an elite jonin.
But for actual shinobi, it was a different story.
Yes, there was a learning curve. But they already had real combat training. Even Academy students regularly practiced fighting techniques. Someone like Shisui Uchiha, raised from childhood under clan tutelage, had sparred and seen real combat even before joining the Academy.
So for the four current game testers, they adapted quickly. Once familiar with the interface, they could already use the elite jonin-level avatars to unleash devastating power—something current genjutsu games just couldn't offer.
In those other games? In *Homecoming*, you played as a different person—just a genin. Others had characters without chakra or whose chakra was sealed.
*Fruit Ninja*-type games let players fight with their own strength, but didn't give that thrilling surge of power.
This game did. That incredible boost? Irresistible.
No wonder the boys were hooked.
After all, no matter how strong they might become in the future, right now the most accomplished among them—Kakashi—was still just a Chūnin. Shisui was still a student.
But in-game, their avatars were all elite jonin-level.
Yes—elite jonin, not just regular jonin.
If players used Free Mode and controlled the game with their own bodies, the avatar's stats would drop to regular jonin level. But the twelve characters Uchiha Kei had designed were all elite jonin.
There were two more characters who would only appear in the official release—both Kage-level bosses. Unplayable. Only challengeable.
At least in the initial version. Kei planned to add special, enhanced, or elite versions in the future, possibly making the two bosses playable.
And yes, that would also be a new revenue stream.
Sure, his main goal was emotional energy and Golden Spirit points. But hey—why not make some money while he's at it? Only the rich could afford these games. Regular folks could only play at arcades. No need for guilt about that.
His long-term monetization plan hinged on this model—and Kei wanted to see if emotional value could be harvested repeatedly from the same game by releasing new versions.
If it worked, then it meant long-running live service games could continuously generate emotional value.
From Version 1.0, to 1.1, 1.2… then 2.0…
Just like real-world MMOs. Later adopted by mobile games to extend shelf life. The best at this? *World of Warcraft*—a game so old it's practically a fossil, yet it's been live for over a decade.
You could count *Legend* too, though that had tons of server resets and relied on private servers to stay alive.
So yeah—Uchiha Kei was experimenting. He'd asked the system if it was possible. No answer.
Only one way to find out.
For now—back to testing.
"Stupid Kakashi! Die!"
"You dumb Deadlast! You're the one who's gonna lose!"
Inside the arena, the blonde ninja Gairen—playing as Obito Uchiha—and the silver-haired swordsman Sayun—playing as Kakashi Hatake—launched into a fierce brawl, channeling the same chaotic chemistry they had in real life.
Even though this was a four-player free-for-all mode, these two only had eyes for each other. Knowing death in the game wasn't real, they were eager to stab each other a dozen times and mock each other's corpses.
Silver-haired Sayun's sword danced in deadly arcs, slashing with visible killing intent. Gairen blurred into golden afterimages, dodging and dashing with lightning speed.
Their grasp of the controls improved rapidly. Once the awkwardness faded, they began to use each character's full move set, even applying their own real-life combat styles.
Only issue? Power scaling. The avatars were far stronger than the players themselves, and they weren't used to managing that kind of force. They'd need more practice.
Still, the sheer power surge got their blood pumping. Even with full-body simulation, they were all in: slash, strike, destroy—annihilate the enemy!
Their in-game expressions twisted: the sunshine blonde became a sinister gremlin. The cool white-haired guy went full berserk. They shattered their personas completely—though honestly, maybe Kakashi always looked like that behind the mask.
Seeing this chaos, Shisui wiped sweat from his brow. He wanted to join, but something told him this battle just wasn't his scene.
Meanwhile, Might Guy shouted with glee: "OHHHH! As expected of my dearest friends! Such passion! Such youthful energy! I'm burning with excitement!!"
His muscles bulged. His body tensed. He radiated overwhelming masculine energy.
Shisui winced. He'd studied the Might father-son duo. But this level of 'hot-bloodedness' still caught him off guard.
From a third-person perspective, a petite kunoichi standing next to a hulking dark-skinned muscleman was dangerously close to triggering some very questionable doujin tropes.
Uchiha Kei, watching from a god's-eye view, stroked his chin. Maybe he should add an option to restrict players from altering their avatar's expressions—otherwise, Obito and Kakashi were completely ruining their character images.
But no. He gave it a second thought, then dropped the idea.
Sure, they broke character. But this was a player's game. In a fighting game, facial expressions and body language are part of the experience. Forcing a rigid persona would stifle the competitive atmosphere.
And more importantly—it would reduce emotional value.
So Kei let it go. Of course he did.
Then he glanced at the excited Might Guy. The kid was only nine, but already had that future-Kage-level fiery vibe.
In the original timeline, Guy hadn't yet grasped the 'Path of Youth.' He was still confused, even resentful of his future. He didn't resemble the future Guy-sensei at all.
He carried emotional baggage—a complex over his father, a perennial genin mocked by others. Other kids' dads were all elites. His was the class joke.
That sense of inferiority stayed with Guy for years, until the Third Great Ninja War.
During a mission outside the village, he witnessed Might Duy burn like a supernova—activating the Eight Gates and crushing the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist. That moment redefined taijutsu in the shinobi world, and made Guy realize: his dad wasn't trash. He was a legend.
From that day on, Guy walked the path of pure taijutsu and discovered his 'Youth' philosophy. Eventually, he'd shine brighter than any Kage in the Fourth Great Ninja War.
But in this altered timeline, thanks to Uchiha Kei, things had changed.
Duy now had respect and a steady income. No more poverty. Guy's life had improved, giving him more time and resources to train.
Even the proud Uchiha clan respected Duy because of Kei. Kei even declared him the greatest taijutsu master in Leaf history, holding power beyond any Kage.
Such high praise wiped away past mockery. And that shift helped Guy realize—his father was incredible. His teachings were right.
So Guy found his path early. That spark of 'Youth' ignited now instead of years later. He was already emotional, passionate, and just as wild as his future self.
Uchiha Kei couldn't wait to see how far this Guy would go. He hoped this Guy would grow even stronger than in canon.
Because if they ever had to face those Ōtsutsuki aliens again…
Even Hashirama Senju might not be enough.
A taijutsu master like Guy would be far more useful.
Just then, Guy turned to the now-female Shisui with blazing eyes and shouted:
"Come on, Shisui, my junior! Since we can't join Kakashi and Obito's hot-blooded clash, let's have our own explosive, no-holds-barred brawl that sets our souls ablaze!"
Grinning, he crouched low, fists clenched, legs braced—like a martial arts master ready for war. His muscle mass swelled, veins popping.
Against Shisui's elegant and cool feminine avatar, it looked dangerously like the cover of a certain kind of doujinshi.
Of course, nothing inappropriate would actually happen. This game, while simulating reality, had strict limits.
In this first-ever game allowing male players to choose female avatars, clothing could not be damaged. Key areas were protected by the 'Harmony System'—forbidding any non-harmonious behavior.
Perverts hoping to sneak in some thrills? Disappointed.
Still, Kei didn't block that route entirely. After all, 'harmony' games had their own market, and they retained high user loyalty. Kei just wouldn't make them himself.
Instead, he'd already chosen the future founder of that genre—none other than the shinobi world's #1 pervy sage and gallant rogue who would one day write *Make-Out Paradise*—
Jiraiya!