"Phew…"
Ruofeng walked into his bedroom and looked at his reflection in the mirror. "What exactly is this Junk Station trying to do? It feels like it's forcing me to become stronger. Only by becoming stronger can I get stronger…"
He shook his head, lost in thought. The Junk Station felt less like a reward system and more like a relentless supervisor, pushing him to enhance his body, his mind, and his chakra.
Unfortunately, out of these three, the only one he could actively improve right now was his physical body.
Mental strength required long-term meditation and gradual cultivation. The progress was slow, but steady. If he wanted a massive increase, he would need a rare opportunity.
Chakra was the same. Ruofeng was only six years old, yet his current reserves were already astonishing. He had no intention of over-extracting energy from his cells, which could damage his growth and harm his future potential.
That left physical conditioning.
But after being tempered by the Foundation Spirit Liquid, his physique already far surpassed that of his peers. Even with daily medicinal baths and constant consumption of monster meat, his improvement had become painfully slow.
There was nothing he could do about it.
Sighing, he glanced toward the head of his bed—and his mouth twitched.
A handgun lay there quietly.
This was the main "harvest" of the past few months, the result of the latest drop from the Junk Station.
The first batch of junk had come from a modern world—specifically, the era of the Second World War.
The moment Ruofeng saw the insignia of the Independent Regiment, he knew it came from the world of Bright Sword.
That world had no energy system and barely qualified as a technological civilization. Its World War II-era weapons were crude and outdated by any advanced standard.
Most of the junk appeared to come from Yamamoto's raid. He had obtained a large number of guns and cannons, but what use were such weapons in the shinobi world?
The only truly worthwhile items were a fully intact artillery cannon with three shells, and the pistol now lying by his bed—likely the one Chu Yunfei had once gifted to Li Yunlong.
Everything else consisted of damaged firearms and corpses. Ruofeng dumped all of it into Beast King Mountain, letting the area absorb and process them. The ruined weapons were melted down and reforged into new arms by the canine clan. After all, the bulldogs and mastiffs were natural-born blacksmiths, and the steel itself was still valuable.
He kept the cannon, the three shells, and the pistol.
In the shinobi world, firearms weren't completely useless—but their effectiveness was limited.
Against genin, a pistol might still work. But a vigilant genin could easily dodge with a simple substitution technique. The loud gunshot made it far too easy to detect.
Against chunin, its usefulness dropped sharply.
Against jōnin, it was basically meaningless.
As for the artillery, it had some potential. Its destructive power far exceeded that of ordinary explosive tags, and if modified with additional explosives, it could become terrifying. Sadly, with only three shells left, its practical value was minimal.
Otherwise, Ruofeng might have been tempted to try blasting a tailed beast just for fun.
The second batch of junk had been slightly better—but still disappointing.
It came from ancient Earth, during another era of war. When Ruofeng saw the words Yue Family Army, he knew it was from the Song Dynasty.
At first, he had hoped it might be a special high-tier world, since powerful versions of the Yue Family Army existed in certain fantasy settings. But reality proved otherwise—it was just an ordinary historical world.
The only gains were massive amounts of tents, weapons, armor, and military supplies.
It seemed the junk had come from some warehouse.
Unfortunately, none of it was particularly useful.
Those weapons shattered easily under his blade.
The only real valuables were a chest full of gold, silver, and jewels, along with several ancient forging manuals. Somehow, these smithing texts had ended up stored in that warehouse and were dragged along into the drop.
Ruofeng handed the treasure to his grandfather in exchange for funds. The forging manuals, weapons, and armor were sent to the canine clan, where the bulldogs and mastiffs studied the techniques, refining their craftsmanship even further.
In the end, both drops had provided minimal benefit.
Judging by the timing, another drop should arrive today.
The only question was—what world would it come from?
As this thought crossed his mind, a faint tremor pulsed between his brows.
Ruofeng smiled. "So it's here."
In the next instant, his figure vanished from the bedroom.
The silent Junk Station roared to life as an overwhelming torrent of debris poured down.
Ruofeng stared at the endless flood of water spreading before him. "What kind of world is this from? Why is there so much water?"
Previously, the drops consisted mostly of broken stones and shattered wood. This time, it was an ocean.
As the waters slowly settled, a massive pirate ship emerged and crashed down.
Ruofeng's mouth twitched. "What the hell… isn't that the Going Merry?"
Floating before him was the legendary ship from the world of One Piece.
Its hull bore signs of scorching, clearly marking it as the vessel that had undergone a sea burial. After sinking, it had somehow ended up here instead.
Ruofeng didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
A treasure from such a powerful world—and it was a wrecked ship.
What use was a broken Going Merry?
Unless Luffy had hidden some secret treasure aboard, this was practically worthless. Ruofeng clearly remembered that everything had been removed before the ship's farewell.
The only miraculous thing about the Going Merry had been its ship spirit—but now, that was gone.
He shook his head, then glanced at the many fish floating nearby. "At least these are something."
The marine life from the One Piece world was valuable, if only for their taste.
With a sliver of hope, Ruofeng prepared to send everything to the canine clan for a thorough search. Meanwhile, those exotic fish were definitely worth sampling.
With a thought, he left the Junk Station.
Back in his bedroom, he bit his finger, ready to perform a summoning technique—
"Young master!"
A maid's urgent voice came from outside. "Miss Kushina ran here in tears! She says it's urgent!"
Ruofeng's pupils contracted. "Kushina… crying?"
In these past months, although Kushina had been ostracized at school, she had always responded with violence and stubborn pride. With Ruofeng backing her, no one dared provoke her anymore.
For her to show up in tears—
Something was seriously wrong.
He immediately stepped out, following the maid toward the living room. The moment he entered, Kushina rushed toward him, tears streaming down her face, and threw herself into his arms.
Ruofeng held her gently. "What happened? Why are you in such a hurry?"
He softly stroked her red hair, breathing in her faint fragrance.
Through her sobs, Kushina cried, "Grandma… Grandma is dying… she's about to die! Ruofeng, you know medical ninjutsu—please, go save her!"
Ruofeng froze.
Grandma.
That meant Mito Uzumaki.
The wife of the First Hokage.
The Nine-Tails' jinchūriki.
If news like this leaked, the consequences would be unimaginable.
His gaze instantly flicked around the room. Only two maids were present.
Ruofeng's voice turned cold. "Forget everything you just heard."
The two maids trembled and bowed. "Yes, young master!"
"Stay here. Do not leave. Do not speak of this to anyone."
Without another word, Ruofeng lifted Kushina in his arms and hurried back to his bedroom.
Kushina, still shaken, clearly didn't understand the weight of what she had just said.
Inside the room, special seals lined the walls, forming a barrier-like structure that completely isolated it from outside detection.
Only then did Ruofeng look at her seriously.
"Tell me everything. What exactly happened?"
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