Este Naruto é o jogador

"Get out of here, you brat!"

Naruto had just spotted an interesting shop and was about to go inside when he was suddenly shoved backward, tumbling onto the ground.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" Naruto asked, utterly bewildered.

He didn't even know this shopkeeper. Why was he suddenly treating him like this?

Seeing a crowd gathering, Naruto decided to just lie there on the ground. He was only three years old, the prime age for being a mischievous brat. The shopkeeper had pushed him; unless he coughed up a fortune, Naruto wasn't going to get up.

"What are you doing here, you plague? I won't sell anything to you!" the unfamiliar shopkeeper shouted, pointing an accusing finger at him.

Hearing this, Naruto gave the shopkeeper a careful, uncertain look. It was true; he had absolutely no idea who this man was.

*Seriously, dude?*

Now Naruto was truly baffled. He was only three years old. Since his birth, he had barely stepped foot outside his door.

A plague? Was he referring to him? To Uzumaki Naruto, a weak, helpless three-year-old child?

Impossible. Absolutely impossible.

Resolving this in his mind, Naruto looked up, thoroughly exasperated, and demanded, "Open your eyes and take a good look at who I am! Look closely. Have you ever even seen me before? Calling me a plague..."

The onlookers turned their gaze toward Naruto, and a wave of whispers instantly broke out.

"Is that the kid?"

"Looks like it. Look at the