Chapter 41 - My SI Stash #41 - Son of Gato by Sir Lucifer Morningstar (Naruto) (1/2)

-Maybe you'll like this one Lost_Reborn. It has been sadly almost 2 years since the author updated it but it was still quite fun! It has the game elements as well just like DC Remastered Editon ˋ( ° ▽,° )

Sypnosis: An edgy teenager pretending to be a psychopath pretending to be an edgier teenager pretending to be a bigger psychopath, is reincarnated into the world of Naruto with the powers of the Gamer. Chaos ensues.

Rated: M

Words: 103K

Posted on: fanfiction.net/s/12794658/1/Son-of-Gato (Sir Lucifer Morningstar)

PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)

-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)

Chapter 1

Once upon a time, it was told to both young and old, to both great and small, to both genius and nit-wit that it was a very, very bad and utterly, horribly, cliché idea to begin a story with 'once upon a time.'

”Once upon a time” would indicate that I was about to cosset you with a daughty, insouciant fairy tale of the likes that would have you frol_i_c_k_i_n_g in a field of ideals and dreams, merry laughter, romance and adventure. It would imply that I would have you sighing in the perpetual bliss of a heroic saga that will leave your mind in a state of literary euphoria.

Allow me to render that illusion asunder.

Stories and fables come in all forms and sizes and there are tales out there that begin with what is essentially the 'beginning'. They start as their adventurer or hero rises from the ashes of his demise like a phoenix – complete with dramatic effect and tension – or as they return from the dead because fate and destiny willed it to be so.

Then we have tales that begin with the 'middle'. They unravel the mystery of the adventurer's past – flashbacks included – and they follow his journey into the future, to fight, to conquer, to fail, to love, to win, to live and eventually, to die – unless of course we're dealing with an immortal hero, which opens its own can of problems.

And then, there are tales that begin at the end. The hero has all but accomplished his goals and d_e_s_i_r_es, and he faces his final obstacle, and in his mind, he ponders, 'How did it all come to this?'

And of course, as I had come to discover, there are tales that neither begin at the start, the middle, or the end. For they are still unfolding, still changing, they are twisting and forming in nature, and they do not possess the feature of 'chronology'.

For these tales, Time is powerless and feeble, and would best be ascribed to the metaphor of a grumpy petulant child who has to seat in the back because he didn't call shotgun.

These tales are often greater than legends, more supreme than kings, and far, far superior to that of gods.

These are tales so rare, that to find them is a blessing, to unfold them, a miracle, but to be in them?

An act of divine providence.

Is my tale one of such?

Hell-f_u_c_k_i_n_g-No.

I died.

Of such fact I was certain, death was finality, it was the mysterious question that seemed to serve as the final stage of one's life. It was your last act, your coup de grace, your moment of reckoning. Whether you died with a smile on your face after accomplishing your hearts d_e_s_i_r_es, with frightened eyes as you realize you never expected it coming, with a horrifying expression as you endured torture in your final moments – it mattered not. Death did not discriminate. Death did not pity. Death did not spare. Death did not care.

I knew that I should have been insane, or maybe, I should have been screaming up to the heavens at the impossibility of it all. Perhaps, I should have at least gave it some thought, questioned whether or not this was divine will, providence, or it was supposed to be some form of karmic joke.

I had died, curious thing it was dying, and the manner in which I had met my unfortunate peril is not one that is suitable for children or s_e_n_s_i_t_i_v_e ears. Still, I had died, I was sure of it. Yet, after the sensation of death, the unspeakable darkness and warmth, the feeling of being squeezed through a dark, hot tube –

I found the light.

”Welcome to the Reincarnation World System!”

It was not the type of light I was expecting.

Here I was, sitting on a chair, in a large vast space of whiteness, as far as I could see, and in front of me, was a man wearing fancy-pancy robes that looked like something in the trash can of a Shakespearean movie set.

”What.”

The fashion abomination moved up to me with a large smile.

”You died.”

I rolled my eyes. ”No shit. Any other obvious statements you want to make before explaining who you are?”

The man seemed to blink in confusion at my words. ”Strange. Most of you mortals would be screaming and yelling as to how it was impossible. I was expecting some drama, some shock, maybe a little bit of fear and apprehension.”

”I'm feeling slightly bored. Does that help?”

He grinned at me. ”Ooh, we've got a snarky one here.”

I waved my hand. ”Can you just get to the part where I meet up with Lucifer and stuff? Or is listening to you for all infinity supposed to be my version of hell? If it is, then f_u_c_k, God is a savage.”

”Oh?” The man gave me a weird smile ”So you believed you were destined for hell?”

”No, if anything, I believe hell was destined for me.”

The man seemed to smile even further. ”Well, if you're lucky, you'll get to do see it!”

My eyes narrowed at the suspicious man. So far, he seemed far too upbeat for my liking, and either he was retarded, or there was something else up.

”So… considering I'm not already feeling toasty, are we doing this Konosuba style or Death Parade style?”

A giant, and by Marilyn Monroe's s_e_xy a_s_s I meant giant, spinning wheel appeared, dropping down in front of me with a gust of wind that actually made me take a few steps back.

”Huh. I guess it's Death Parade style then.”

The man, who was probably some cosmic or divine deity that was out of my paygrade, but most likely had superior officers higher in the scheme of things, then gestured to the wheel, which, as my eyes could now see, possessed thousands of different options on it.

”Your fate is literally in your own hands as you spin the Wheel of the Afterlife! Will you get lucky and land on Nirvana? Or will you strike out and find yourself best buddies with Hades in the Realm of the Dead? Or, will you hit the numerous options for reincarnation, to return to your own world as a c_o_c_kroach, or perhaps, end up in an entirely new one with an entirely new life!”

I gave the man a bland look.

”Did your higher ups also ask you to organize this thing like a retarded game show host?”

His smile dropped. ”It makes things more interesting.”

I snorted. My eyes flickered back to the giant board, wherein I realized that there were indeed several options I could land on, depending on how the wheel spun, and ultimately, I shrugged. Worst case scenario, I was sent back as a mosquito and I killed dozens of innocents in Africa. Still a win-win situation.

With a heavy heave, I moved to the side of the thing, and I rolled it.

”Oh, here it goes! Oh, just passed becoming Cthulu's f_u_c_ktoy – that was a lucky one. And yikes, you got around reincarnation as a magical girl in a h_e_n_t_a_i universe. That one is usually a crowd favorite! And… Oh! Just passed Heaven and hell! Go straight to jail, do not pass go! Oh the wheel is slowing down, and – and – and –”

Reincarnated as The Gamer in A Fictional Universe.

”Hehehe… hahahahahahahaha!”

I couldn't help it, my lungs burned heavily as the only thing I could do upon seeing what was my punishment, my fate, was to burst out laughing like a maniac. and it was this! Oh, f_u_c_k, it was too funny to even put into words.

”Oh, my, did you think that was going to be all? You still have to spin the wheel to decide just what universe you'll be entering.”

”I don't care.”

The man stopped to stare at me like I had gone insane.

Indeed, with the wild grin I had on my face, with how my teeth probably showed, anyone would believe that I had gone insane.

”It doesn't matter what universe. Be it Dark Souls or Dragon Ball or f_u_c_k_i_n_g Tom and Jerry – I don't care. Just spin the wheel yourself and tell me how it goes.”

The sound of the familiar spinning reached my ears as my eyes were closed and my hands were placed confidently behind my head.

”Naruto.”

If possible, my grin grew even wider.

”I once drew some comics with Sakura and Ino as futas… interesting.”

It was at this point, that the man who had previously been smiling, had started staring at me oddly, strangely, and my grin grew even wider at the level of discomfort he was showing.

”You – you're –”

”A genuine psychopath with little to no concept of human decency and morality? Yes.”

The man turned white.

”And you just gave me one of the most powerful and versatile abilities in the world, and you're sending me to a universe where I know everyone there is nothing more than the results of a Japanese man's imagination. They may think and act and feel like they're sentient, but they're not… not really. To me? They might as well be a KFC value meal.”

I leaned back, stretching and yawning.

”Well? What are we waiting for? Let's get this reincarnation show on the road, nin nin.”

Son of Gato

How strange was it, that even divine beings were unnerved by me? Of course, as it happened to be, they also seemed to follow some ridiculous notion of right and wrong, of good and evil, as though those abstract terms were supposed to mean something to me. It was disappointing to say the least, I would think that beings that were not human would at least understand where I was coming from, but, I asked for far too much.

The Show Host, as I had taken to calling him, decided, on his own impetus I took it, that it would be better for this 'world' I was in, to never succeed or grow or triumph, because once I grew my Gamer ability, nothing short of the five Kage or higher God-tier beings would be capable of challenging me.

It was for that reason, that I had found myself reincarnated as the child of perhaps, one of the worst people in the entire universe.

Fan-f_u_c_k_i_n_g-tastic.

I might never find out who was more astonished on the day of my birth, myself, or the midwives who had helped delivered me. I had been stunned into a state of total silence given the fact that I still couldn't believe I had just experienced the sensation that was birth, from the perspective of the one person who least wanted to experience it. The mid-wives however, would forever go on and spread my legend about being the quietest baby they had ever seen. I had been so quiet, they had almost assumed I was dead.

Unfortunate as it was, I had soon come to discover, that the process of my coming into the world had come at the price of the life of the woman who birthed me. I would never truly know her name, never learn of her struggles, or never particularly get to feel the supposed warmth of a mother. Not that I cared, of course, about a nameless fictional character.

Had I been a normal child, it would have been unfortunate. As it was however, I was a nineteen year old in the body of an infant. I had a mother, and I could not bring myself to feel anything for the woman who would have taken the place of the only woman I would ever call my mother.

Instead however, my attention was turned to the only other parental figure I had. Despite my eyes being as s_e_n_s_i_t_i_v_e as they were, and despite my ability to fully utilize my visual senses due to being a baby, I tried my best to get a glimpse of my new parent.

Perhaps it was a bad idea, but the more I tried and forced myself to see, the more I unknowingly stirred something deep within me. There's no real way to explain the ineffable sensations, the simplest explanation would be comparing it to a feeling of ants crawling inside your skin, but instead of the usual itchy feeling, there was nothing but the twisted feeling of cold fire. Or perhaps, the feeling of hot ice – which, as I realized sounds vaguer than intended.

Nonetheless, this feeling lasted no longer than a brief second before my body felt unusually weak, like I had just completed a rigorous training exercise, my legs shivered and I almost broke out into cold sweat.

I heard some exclamations that I couldn't make heads or tails of, but before I drifted into sweet unconsciousness, I was able to get a glance at the form of my beloved father –

At his round face and obnoxious laugh, his mustache which coiled to reveal one of the most hated characters in the history of Japanese Animation.

Gato.

[Welcome, new player, to the World of Naruto]

Son of Gato

Year Four, Month One

It had not taken me long to realize that my life was going to be a veritable shit-storm. Or perhaps, it was going to be slow, annoying torture. First, my name was also Gato, or Junior, considering the fact that the man who was my father, was clearly egotistical and obnoxious enough to name his only male child after himself.

Second, I was wrong in assuming the type of person Gato was. I had assumed, that despite being a slimy, greasy sleazebag who ruined the lives of the people of Wave, that he would be a somewhat cossetting father. I thought that Gato would be the kind of person who would spoil and pamper his son and let him get anything and everything he wanted, and would shower him with gifts and attention.

The belt which smacked against my back and sent pain raring up my body served as a harsh reminder as to how hopelessly naïve I had been.

”Get back here boy, you will sit down, and you will learn! You're already four years old – that's a whole four years of an investment that I need to see some returns!”

Gato didn't view me as a son. No, instead, he viewed me as a project. He saw me as some form of investment which would pay off in the long run, and he intended for me to eventually lessen his burdens by taking control of several aspects of his Shipping Conglomerate which ran across the Elemental Nations.

As such, my life had lived out in that perspective.

As a baby, I had numerous wet-nurses who fed me. They were good to me, originally, until of course, the time came when my father's Greed came up. My infant sighs did nothing to stop the idiot of a man as he stripped their clothes and forced himself on them. From that point on, the gazes of the women would look at me with scorn and disdain, they would feed me – barely – perhaps hoping that I would die of starvation slowly, and that they would be saving the world from another monster in human flesh. The irony was highly amusing.

[Due to a sufficient lack of food and nutrients, you have been afflicted with two debuffs.]

[You have been afflicted with the debuff (Malnourished)]

[You have been afflicted with the debuff (Starved)]

Considering my dearest father never truly checked up on me, their plans would have succeeded. Except, for the rare occasion where he came by for a random visit – read: to randomly **** the wet nurse – and then, he would discover my seemingly starving and malnourished state, go up into a frenzy, and kill the woman responsible.

Then, he'd get another wet nurse and the process would begin all over again.

It was through this process that I realized, I was blessed with neither the famous ”Gamer's Mind” nor was I blessed with ”Gamer's Body”. This was probably foul play, once again, most likely perpetuated by the Show Host in order to find newer or perhaps, more suitable ways to kill me.

He seemed to genuinely believe that I would destroy or utterly enslave this world, and his antics to prevent me from doing so where going to be rather troubling. I suppose it is my fault in the first place, for unfortunately running my mouth and revealing my true nature in front of him. Though, it did bring the question of just how much influence he possessed that he would be able to do something as major as edit the rules of my ability.

Regardless, I was in a world that was the result of the vivid imagination of a Japanese man with a hard-on for messiah-complexes. The people around me were not real, as I constantly reminded myself. Oh sure, they might seem to have feelings and emotions and logical thoughts like every other human being, but they weren't real. Their destinies were already set in stone, their fates and futures written and drawn out, guided, and nothing they did would change the outcome.

I, on the other hand was real. I came from a world where I had already seen the utterly crappy, sickeningly sweet 'ending'. Well, unless you count how Naruto supposedly is rumored to get killed and didn't even live to see old age as the 'true' ending, but I wasn't even sure if the events of Boruto would happen in this world.

I was the farthest thing from an idiot, and unashamed as I am to admit it, I had spent countless hours debating as to what I would do if I was ever reincarnated. The fact was, the Chaos Theory was something that people tended to forget. So many idiots would spend time trying to run damage control and 'align' the world with what they knew as 'canon', to hold on to some fleeting idea and delusion of control, believing that they could plan for the worst case scenario as long as their memories of the future was intact.

I did not have the liberty to be that stupid.

For starters, Gato never had a son in 'canon'. That mere fact alone, the fact of my conception, had already created ripples that would utterly change the world and the future. Whatever 'future-knowledge' I had was doubtlessly useless already, and I was not going to spend agonizing hours upon hours thinking about how I had to make sure Naruto fought Kaguya and saved the world.

Other than that, I was a civilian. Oh sure, I had unlocked my chakra, and I had the powers of the Gamer but it didn't mean much. My reserves as a civilian-born were so laughable, that I was certain Sakura of all people would be considered a biju in comparison. The deprivation of food had not helped, nor had Gato's staunch love of corporate punishment. That aside, even if I did not possess less chakra than a flea, my dearest father would never entertain the idea of sending me to a shinobi village to learn how to become a ninja, nor did I believe he would be happy with the idea of hiring private tutors so I could learn the shinobi arts. All he wanted from me, was to become the perfect version of himself that would lessen his workload and carry on his legacy.

This meant that unless I was willing to run away to Konoha and become a shinobi – on the off, ridiculous chance that they would even allow me into the academy – there was not much I could do against the monstrously, bullshit-level powers that people in this world possessed.

I licked my lips in anticipation.

In a world filled with demons and devils, my options were either to roll over and let the devil shove a red-hot iron up my a_s_s, or to smile, convince the devil that I was on his side, and then proceed the shove a red-hot iron up the asses of other unfortunate bastards.

I was finally in a world of survival of the fittest, and it meant that I could and would have to kill, murder and maim my way to the top of the food chain if I wanted to survive. There was no room for mercy. No room to be limited 'morals'. No room to be an idealistic driven idiot who had to play the role of the hero or the good guy.

I was the only real person in the world.

I was number one.

I was all that mattered.

This world was my sandbox. A world in which I had read hundreds of different fan variations, fictions and theories. A world in which I had shamelessly seen and gotten off to thousands of different rule 34 materials. Even if I had next to no chakra, and I had absolutely no ninja training or combat experience, I would become the God of the world, using nothing but cunning and brutality.

The Gamer powers, were merely a tiny bonus.

After all, the best victory is the one gained without ever fighting.

And thus, I began my plan.

My dearest father ran a shipping business, which meant that majority of the time, he would have no choice but to be gone for days or weeks, or perhaps months, leaving my growth to the servants in the house. They were like spies and rodents, loyal to him and him only, and as such, I needed to keep up with my 'studies' and designated tutors in order to avoid drawing suspicion or a firm lashing. Days blurred rapidly, with the same particular routine of waking, being fed, meeting with my numerous tutors, and spending hours open end learning arithmetic that I was already lightyears ahead of.

However, there were other skills and unique things which I had gained from my tutors and their sessions, which my father referred to as the ”ABC's of Successful Businessmen.”

Theoretical Skills Unlocked!

Arithmetic (Passive) Lv. Max

Bookkeeping (Passive) Lv. Max

Calligraphy (Passive) Lv. 3

Deal-Brokering (Passive) Lv. 20

Economic Observation (Passive) Lv. 29