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Seimei shakes his head, kills the overthinking, and slams the stat panel shut. He digs into his pouch, pulls out a fistful of those juiced-up soldier pills, and tosses them in his mouth like candy.
Crunch, chew, swallow. Heat explodes in his gut, lighting his veins on fire.
No time to fuck around. Hands flash through seals—Multi-Shadow Clone Jutsu.
Bam. Nine hundred clones pop into existence.
He seals the whole squad into a scroll like it's nothing, then throws up another set of seals and spits out a Wood Clone.
"Go."
He tosses the scroll to the wooden doppelgänger. The clone nods, shoots into the sky, and hauls ass toward Fire Country.
Seimei watches it disappear, then yanks a fat stream of chakra straight from the stash hidden in his forehead dimension—topping off his tanks instantly.
Seals again. Second wave: two hundred twenty shadow clones this time, all dedicated to cracking the Blood Succession Net.
He waves them off without a word. They scatter like crows.
Then—flash—he Flying Thunder Gods his ass right back into the volcano under Moonlight Island and gets back to work grinding his body into something monstrous.
With that invisible ceiling finally shattered, the gains hit different. He can feel the progress in his bones, and this time it's coming in faster than ever.
No surprise there—his flesh can finally take more punishment.
So he starts pushing. Little by little, he cranks up the amount of sage chakra he's slamming into his cells, testing exactly where the new limit is.
This ain't a one-and-done thing. He's gotta keep hammering, keep breaking, keep measuring—hundreds of reps until the numbers are rock-solid.
Body Extreme on repeat. Over and over until the clock bleeds into deep night.
Finally he calls it, teleports back topside while his wounds stitch themselves shut, and runs a full diagnostic on his meat suit.
Crunching the data from the last few hours, he nails down exactly how much stronger this latest Physique jump made him.
Old daily limit before this transformation: 240 million points of chakra he could shove into his body without turning into paste.
New limit: 300 million flat.
That's an extra 60 million a day.
Not as insane as the 110 million jump he got when Physique hit 40 and his body went through that full-on mutation, but still solid. Totally expected.
Don't sleep on that "only" 25% boost, though.
Because his actual body-forging efficiency? Latest tests say it shot up damn near 30%.
That shit doesn't even make sense on paper.
Normally, efficiency gains lag behind raw durability boosts. Like, durability up 30%, efficiency maybe creeps 20–25%. That's the usual ratio.
But this time efficiency actually outpaced the chakra input.
Reason's simple: unlocking the Rinnegan supercharged his Human Path technique—"Human Control." That juiced his chakra utilization through the roof.
So yeah—only 25% more chakra flowing in, but he's squeezing 30% more gains out of every drop.
Fucking beautiful.
Still, 60 million extra a day is 60 million extra a day.
His daily chakra deficit drops from 177.32 million (577.32M needed – 400M recovered) to 117.32 million.
He pings the wood clones he's got stashed all over the island soaking up ambient chakra like sponges and runs the math.
Result: at current burn rate, his reserves will last about eight months.
Factor in the 200+ million he banks every tenth day when he actually rests? Call it one year, give or take.
"One year, huh…"
Seimei mutters, staring at the moon.
One year should be enough for two more body transformations.
That'd push Physique to 43—only two points behind Spirit.
Once the gap closes that much, the pressure eases. He can start taking more rest days, stretch the chakra stockpile further.
Downside: transformations slow down.
Trade-off he's willing to make if it keeps him from running dry.
Of course, this is all just theory for now. Real life loves throwing curveballs—how much chakra each future transformation will demand, how fast his recovery climbs, all that shit's still unknown.
He'll play it by ear. No point locking into a ten-year plan when tomorrow could flip the script.
Shoving the long-term noise aside, he pops every active shadow clone and lets the memories and experience flood in.
Side note: the insane chakra demands forced him to bump his natural-energy farming crew to 1,100 clones.
That's basically his current ceiling—any more and each clone's absorption efficiency tanks. He'd just be hemorrhaging chakra for diminishing returns.
Sure, once his max chakra climbs again he can field more, but the rate his body-forging is scaling? Recovery's never gonna keep up.
Which means it's time to stop dragging his feet and go hunt down Jūgo's homeland.
Yeah. That cursed bloodline's birthplace.
He's been sitting on this idea forever. Pretty damn sure that place is one of the three holy grounds' convergence nodes—basically a natural-energy jackpot.
Find it, park his ass there, and his absorption rate goes through the roof.
No need to keep spawning a thousand-plus clones just to break even.
Thoughts blaze through his mind like shuriken.
Then he shuts it all down, focuses up, and dives into the fresh memory haul—sifting, absorbing, devouring every last scrap of progress those clones bled for.
Time keeps ticking.
And Seimei keeps grinding.
No days off. No mercy.
Just the slow, brutal climb to godhood.