Naruto’s Dump Station

Chapter 2: Three Thousand RubbishStations

Ninja Village, Ninja School.

A complete learning system had been established to prevent the loss of talent and the risk of uncontrolled ninjas. The Second Hokage’s creation of the ninja system was, in many ways, a masterpiece. From a vast pool of aspiring shinobi, those with exceptional potential were selected, trained by trusted senior ninjas, and, if talented enough, accepted as personal disciples. Layer by layer, this structure ensured that even the most gifted individuals were shaped and guided within its confines.

Jiraiya, Minato… these well-known civilian ninjas had risen step by step through this system. However, despite the large number of shinobi in Muye Village, most of the high-ranking ones came from established clans or had influential connections. It was rare for civilian ninjas to reach the upper echelon purely through strength.

Even in the future, if someone like Might Guy could attain a high position, it was likely due to his father demonstrating the power of the Eight Gates. Otherwise, why had his father, during his lifetime, remained a mere eternal Genin, living in the village’s outskirts?

Ruofeng had understood these realities, realizing that the world of Naruto was far more grounded than what had been depicted in the manga.

Suddenly, a sound echoed in his ears. Ruofeng smiled.

“Here we go again. I wonder what kind of treasure will appear this time.”

As he spoke, he stood up and walked forward. The space before him twisted, pulling him in. If the elite ninjas of Kiba witnessed this scene, they would undoubtedly be shocked—this was space ninjutsu.

In an instant, Ruofeng vanished, as if he had never been there. If not for the steaming cup of tea left behind, no one would have believed that someone had just been standing in that spot.

A quiet space.

A figure slowly emerged.

It was Ruofeng, wearing a confident smile.

This was his greatest secret, the foundation of his survival.

His gaze fell upon a vast pile of discarded objects—an apparent garbage dump. But this was no ordinary waste. If Ruofeng wanted to grow stronger, he had to find treasures buried within this trash.

This was his golden finger

The Three Thousand RubbishStations. A powerful yet bizarre ability.

This trash did not originate from the Naruto world—it came from other realms.

Ruofeng did not know where the Three Thousand RubbishStations had come from, but he understood that it could connect to countless planes, gathering the discarded remnants of those worlds.

And who knew what might be considered trash in one world? Perhaps a discarded object held unimaginable value in another.

Just thinking about it was exhilarating. A mere weed in the prehistoric world might become a rare treasure in a cultivation realm. If such a thing fell into the Naruto world, what kind of power would it hold?

Ruofeng did not resent the Three Thousand RubbishStations—on the contrary, he was thrilled.

If he wanted to become stronger, seize control of his fate in the Naruto world, and avoid becoming a casualty in future wars, he had to rely on this ability. The garbage from other worlds was his key to survival.

After all, even the discarded remnants of certain powerful planes could hold extraordinary value.

Unfortunately, despite the vast amount of trash that had appeared over the years, Ruofeng had found very few true treasures.

He had discovered this ability when he was just one year old. Back then, a large batch of garbage had appeared, but to his disappointment, it had come from a modern world. Though he had not fully understood its significance at the time, he had managed to piece together clues from torn textbooks and school materials—it had been garbage from an urban version of Earth.

There had been no mystical artifacts, but there was one thing of great value—Tokyo Fever.

Oddly enough, this had turned out to be the most precious item in that batch. His grandfather had given it to Jiraiya, the famous pervert of Kiba, earning Ruofeng an unexpected favor in return.

From this, Ruofeng had learned an important lesson—the garbage that appeared was unpredictable and beyond his control. But at least it seemed to arrive once a year.

At the age of two, another batch had materialized. This time, it consisted of electronic devices, including a battered laptop. Though old, it contained numerous stored novels, including Naruto fan fiction. These had given Ruofeng valuable insights and references.

At three years old, the garbage had been even more astonishing—a collapsed structure that resembled a palace. Upon examining the debris, Ruofeng had discovered aged manuscripts confirming its identity—the remnants of the Afang Palace, burned by Xiang Yu during the fall of the Qin Dynasty. Among the damaged scrolls, some medical texts had remained intact, granting Ruofeng a significant wealth of knowledge.

At four years old, the garbage had once again come from an urban world, but this one was different. From torn newspapers, Ruofeng had realized it was from the world of The Legend of Bruce Lee. Unlike before, this world contained martial arts. The batch had included a printed manual on Jeet Kune Do. Though not an original text, its detailed explanations of combat techniques had excited Ruofeng greatly.

Now, at five years old, the garbage had not appeared for a long time. But today, it had finally arrived.

Ruofeng fixed his gaze on the distant trash pile.

“This is the fifth time. The first batch was useless, but last time, a martial arts world appeared. It seems that each time, the world gets stronger. Maybe this time, it will be from a true cultivation plane.”

Excitement flickered in his eyes. Every year, he had come to expect the arrival of new garbage. His eyebrows twitched—his usual sign that it was about to appear.

Just as he was thinking this, a deafening roar shattered the silence.

Boom…!

Boom…!

The space above him twisted violently as piles of garbage materialized from nowhere. Dust filled the air, and among the debris, charred wooden branches lay scattered.

Ruofeng frowned.

“What kind of garbage is this? Why does it always appear so messily… And what’s with these burnt tree branches?”

He let out a small sigh, displeased by the sight. Yet his gaze remained fixed on the garbage pile, hoping that something valuable would emerge.