Before she knew it, Pakura was pulled into the world of the game. The title on the screen read: *Tale of the Ninja Wind*.

A puzzled expression crossed Pakura ‘s pretty face. She’d never heard of this game before.

And then…

“Producer: Jiraiya? Not Game no Kei? Why is the developer listed as Jiraiya? And why does his name appear right at the beginning of the game?”

She was confused. Most genjutsu-based games only showed the developer’s name after completion or on the packaging. And all of them were by Game no Kei—Uchiha Kei’s public alias.

While his identity was a secret to civilians, the major shinobi villages already had detailed files on him. His status as a member of the Uchiha clan and his position in the Hidden Leaf Village were no longer mysteries. But because he never left the village, the others could only glare helplessly from afar.

So the fact that someone else had made this new genjutsu game caught Pakura off guard.

But that surprise quickly morphed into excitement—had she stumbled onto a secret hidden within the genjutsu game industry?

Thinking back to the game hall clerk’s awkward reaction when she’d requested a “special game,” Pakura now understood. It wasn’t reluctance toward the request itself—it was hesitation because she wasn’t a Leaf shinobi. And yet, due to professional decorum, the clerk hadn’t turned her away.

Clearly, this was a secret buried deep within the Leaf Village. And it might even be tied to the production of genjutsu-based games!

With that in mind, Pakura skipped the opening and entered the game with the focus of a trained kunoichi.

What followed was an immersive journey through a male shinobi’s life. This was her first time experiencing a gender-switching simulation, and the realism of it shocked her—it was far beyond anything the Transformation Jutsu could deliver. It felt alien. Foreign. Like she wasn’t herself.

“No wonder the Hidden Leaf hid this game. It’s unlike any other genjutsu experience. There’s definitely some high-level secret embedded in here!”

Her eyes lit up.

Weird bodily sensations aside, she relished the thought of cracking the code behind this game. She proceeded carefully, savoring every plot beat and detail in the background.

And she actually found quite a few suspicious elements.

Since the tone of the game revolved around intelligence gathering, she couldn’t help but overanalyze everything. Even normal conversations started sounding like hidden code. A random line of dialogue? Surely it was a secret Konoha cipher—she had to memorize it and pass it to Suna’s specialists.

This mindset turned her playthrough into a crawl.

Fortunately, the game wasn’t very large. Though it had a hefty script, it followed a linear story, without many branching choices.

After all, it was made by Jiraiya—a complete newbie in game design. The fact he’d managed to build a full game at all was probably thanks to Uchiha Kei giving him a huge cheat code.

Eventually, Pakura reached the game’s most “memorable” scene:

“Huh? W-why are you undressing?! Wait, why am I undressing too?! Are you serious?! N-no—don’t do this! I-I’ll be defiled!”

“I-I need to quit the game—no, what if this is the Hidden Leaf’s plan?! What if the secrets are hidden *in* this obscene scene? I can’t afford to miss it!”

Torn between horror and curiosity, Pakura kept playing.

And thus, the door to a new world opened.

She matured instantly—because she’d learned *so much*. Her mind blanked. She lay on the game’s virtual bed, staring at the ceiling, stunned. The male protagonist’s perspective… was eye-opening.

Even though Jiraiya had deliberately kept the realism to only 20% to avoid addicting players, the simulated touch was already enough to make Pakura feel overwhelmed.

After it ended, her mind was empty.

“So *this* is what it’s like to be a man…? Wow… it’s amazing…” she murmured.

She didn’t dare say the rest out loud: *I want to experience it again…*

Realizing how dangerous that thought was, Pakura bolted upright and quit the game.

Returning to reality, she sighed with relief as she touched her chest—she’d missed that familiar weight. But now she eyed the genjutsu scroll with wariness—maybe even fear.

That game had shaken her. What if she became a corrupted woman… one who preferred women instead of men?

After all, the female leads in the game had been *really* charming. She’d felt things she never expected.

Terrifying.

She didn’t want to touch the game again.

But… what if this genjutsu game did contain secrets about the Hidden Leaf?

“Damn it, Konoha, how dare you make a game like this? It’s the ultimate defense against enemy intelligence gathering…”

She cursed under her breath.

Still shaken, she took a few deep breaths and downed a glass of juice provided by the store.

That sweetness calmed her… somewhat.

But she hesitated.

As a kunoichi of the Hidden Sand, Pakura had been trained in this sort of mental discipline. She knew sometimes a female ninja had to use seduction to complete a mission.

Compared to those cases in the intel briefings, playing a questionable game seemed minor.

After a brief internal struggle, she convinced herself: this wasn’t a real sacrifice.

Game on.

She resumed playing.

That night, she unlocked the full scope of this new world.

By the time she returned to the inn, she looked dazed. Her steps wobbled.

When her comrades asked what happened, Pakura merely replied that she’d spent the whole night analyzing a genjutsu game sold in the Hidden Leaf, hoping to extract key intel.

Everyone stared at her with awe and admiration. Even Rasa smiled and praised her, saying that if she kept up this dedication, she was destined for greatness.

His speech, filled with classic bureaucratic flair, made him sound like a textbook leader.

After all, he was nearly confirmed as the next Kazekage—and Pakura would be one of his subordinates. Naturally, he wanted to set her up as a model shinobi.

It was leadership 101.

Inwardly, Rasa felt grateful to Sarutobi Mizuki, whom he now saw as a true mentor. Yesterday, they’d spent time at Heaven and Earth together, where Sarutobi had shared the art of internal politics—a lesson the Third Kazekage had never taught him.

Now, as he watched Pakura bow her head in embarrassment while the others responded with mixed expressions—respect, disdain, indifference—he thought, *Yes, this is it. This is how you lead.*

Even the Kazekage could learn a thing or two from the Hidden Leaf.

Wait… no. Did the Third Kazekage know all this already?

A troubling thought hit Rasa. What if the Third had been managing them all using the same tricks, but never passed that wisdom on to him?

If that were true, then even as the future Fourth Kazekage, he might never truly hold power…

Rasa’s heart sank.

But he hid the turmoil with a smile, changing the subject.

Meanwhile, Pakura —the supposedly flustered kunoichi—wanted to crawl into a hole. Rasa’s praise stung. She felt publicly executed by embarrassment.

She couldn’t take it anymore.

The shame, the guilt—it all pushed her to one conclusion: she would *destroy* that cursed scroll.

After the morning meeting, she returned to her room and grabbed the game scroll.

But as she prepared to toss it, she hesitated.

Her mind flashed back to the story… to the three wives, each with their own tragedy and unique personality. The narrative had been so beautifully written, far beyond anything she’d read before.

That was why she’d stayed up all night. Not because of the raunchy parts.

“…Maybe I’ll keep it. Just a little longer. For research,” she muttered.

And with that, she returned to her room, scroll in hand.

On that day, the future heroine of the Hidden Sand had been… forever changed.

If the Third Kazekage ever found out, he’d definitely scream:

“Damn you, Hidden Leaf—your game is a menace!!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep