Chapter 1: Summoning Heroes is Hazardous Without a User Manual
If anyone had told Old Man Li that today he'd summon seven gods from different universes with a glorified mood necklace, he probably would've choked on his rice porridge and called you an idiot.
But to be fair, today wasn't exactly normal.
The village of Stone Root had always been small, quiet, and filled with the kind of elderly people who looked like they'd been carved out of the same mountain they lived under. Runes covered nearly every surface: rocks, walls, chicken coops. No one knew what they meant, but they made for cool decorations and occasionally scared off bandits. Usually.
Today was not one of those days.
Far off from the flashy capitals of the Blue Wind Empire, the emperor's "law" was more like a polite suggestion. Which meant five cultivators—think kung fu wizards with ego problems—decided they were the new landlords. They strutted into the village, long robes billowing, eyebrows sharp enough to cut steel, and declared, "Give us the artifact or face death."
When no one could even spell "artifact," much less produce one, they got... testy.
They started throwing energy blasts around like bored toddlers with firecrackers. Houses burned. People screamed. Grandma Shui hit one of them with her shoe and got turned into a human pothole. It was bad.
Chief Li had seen many things in his 82 years: flood, famine, a talking chicken (long story). But he'd never seen a massacre like this.
Clutching the necklace his own father had given him, a thing with a pretty blue gem that never did anything useful—like summon rice during famines or make his son-in-law shut up—he cried out to the heavens.
"Immortals above! Save us!"
Which is when things got weird.
The blood on the ground shimmered like someone had spilled glitter in a horror movie. It got sucked into the dirt like the earth itself was thirsty. The runes all over the village started glowing. First one. Then another. Then the whole ground lit up like someone had turned on an arcane disco floor.
The cultivators stepped back fast. One of them, clearly the brains of the group (read: only slightly less dumb), muttered, "This is ancient magic... dangerous magic."
No kidding.
And just like that—bam!—a beam of golden light exploded from the center of the village. The sky opened up like it was on a lunch break. And through it fell...
A ninja, a monkey-tailed martial artist, a depressed soul reaper, a rubber pirate, a dead pharaoh, a gourmet hunter, and a mafia boss.
Because, you know, obviously.
Enter: Team Multiverse
Naruto Uzumaki hit the ground first, landing in a crouch with the kind of grace that made old women consider adopting him. Blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a grin like he'd just been handed a lifetime ramen voucher.
"Okay... not Konoha," he muttered. "Unless Konoha started glowing and smells like goat."
Goku followed, bouncing a few feet before landing on his feet. "Wow! That was awesome! Where am I? Is this a new planet?" He sniffed the air. "Smells like... dumplings and panic."
Ichigo Kurosaki face-planted and groaned. "Not again..." he grumbled, dusting off his jeans and looking at his empty hip. "Zangetsu? No sword? Fantastic."
Luffy came next, bouncing like rubber (because he was rubber), and landed in a cartwheel that demolished a cabbage stand. "Cool place! Do you guys have meat?"
Atem descended like an angel of dramatic eyeliner. He hovered two inches above the ground, cape flapping even though there was no wind. "This is... not the spirit realm. Someone better explain before I duel reality itself."
Toriko crashed down with a flex of muscle and hunger. "Where's the beast? I smell blood and roasted carrots."
Finally, Tsuna Sawada poofed in with a grace. He looked around, took one glance at the flaming buildings, glowing runes, and bloody cultists... and immediately became serious Don.
The villagers just stared. The chief fell on his knees, tears in his eyes.
"You came," he whispered. "The heavens answered."
Naruto scratched the back of his head. "Um, hey, old man. We're kind of... lost. You didn't happen to summon us, did you?"
The cultivators didn't wait. One of them screamed, "Those are not normal mortals!"
(Which, yeah, duh.)
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It was pretty obvious from the moment they landed—this wasn't Earth, or any dimension they were familiar with.
The sky was too blue.
The air tasted like ki-infused mint.
And most importantly, no one had any Wi-Fi.
The seven heroes didn't know each other, but they knew one thing for certain: every single person here could level a mountain before breakfast. That kind of energy was hard to miss.
Their introductions would have to wait.
Because right now, there were burning houses, injured villagers, and five grown men paralyzed in fear after making the worst decision of their hundred-year-old lives.
The cultivators had meant to run. Oh, they really did.
But something happened when the seven turned their gazes toward them.
It was like staring into the eyes of a divine tribunal—one that punched first and didn't even ask questions later.
Each of the summoned warriors had seen battles, wars, immortals, monsters. Compared to that, these rogue cultivators were basically violent librarians with decent hair.
And yet… they had slaughtered innocents.
That didn't sit well.
Naruto, usually the loudest voice in any room that didn't contain a karaoke machine, quietly turned away. His blue eyes softened as he knelt beside the chief and began helping the wounded. His chakra flared gently—not as a threat, but as a healing balm. Golden energy seeped into burned skin, shattered bones reknitted, bruises faded.
"Hang in there, old man," he said to a coughing villager. "You're gonna be just fine."
A small girl clung to him like he was a real-life sunbeam. She probably wasn't wrong.
While Naruto played medic, Tsuna stepped up with the professionalism of someone who had accidentally become the Boss of a Mafia Empire and still remembered to bring cookies to meetings.
"Chief," he said softly, "Do you have any idea what just happened? Or… why we happened?"
Chief Li, now slightly less shaken and much more wrinkled from stress, wiped his face and nodded slowly. "There's an old legend in this village—older than the empire, older than even the first sects. It says that in times of grave danger, if the need is great and the blood pure, the Warriors of Other Realms would be summoned."
Tsuna raised an eyebrow. "That sounds very specific."
The chief shrugged. "It also said we'd have flying cows by now. Ancient legends are hit-or-miss."
That wasn't helpful.
Still, the message was clear: they were summoned—not by magic spells or secret scrolls, but by a desperate wish and a shiny necklace that none of them could explain.
Tsuna stood and walked toward the five immobilized cultivators, who were still stuck in the world's most intense group panic.
"Alright," he said, turning to the rest of the squad, "Does anyone have… mind-reading abilities?"
Goku looked confused. "You mean like, reading a book with your brain?"
Ichigo rolled his eyes. "No, Goku. He means psychic interrogation. Because obviously, asking nicely is off the table."
Atem stepped forward.
Tall. Regal. Unbothered by time or space. His golden eyes glowed faintly beneath his bangs.
"I can see into their hearts," he said calmly. "And memories, if necessary."
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Atem didn't waste time.
While the others debated what to do next, the Pharaoh-turned-hero placed two fingers on the forehead of the most menacing-looking cultivator, whose expression screamed, "I'm important and evil" but whose bladder now whispered, "I regret everything."
Golden light flowed from Atem's hand like a divine spotlight. The cultivator twitched once, then went completely still.
For most people, memories are private. For Atem?
They were a hallway with all the doors already open.
He stepped into the rogue's mind like it was his personal Netflix history. No passwords, no firewalls, not even a mildly effective curse of silence. Just page after page of misdeeds.
Torture. Raids. Petty cruelty. Ego-driven power trips.
These weren't misunderstood warriors or noble rebels. These guys were villains straight out of a morality textbook with extra footnotes on "Why Not to Be a Jerk."
But one memory stood out.
A man—young, bleeding, barely alive—being saved by the cultivators. He wore a half-burnt robe with the unmistakable symbol of the Xiao Clan, a mid-tier noble family in the Profound Sky Continent. In a moment of delirium, he spilled the beans:
"There's a legend… an ancient city... sacred runes, hero-summoning... power beyond imagination...!"
The cultivators had looked at each other, grinned like kids in a candy store, and made a plan.
And now they were here. Not because of purpose, destiny, or divine design—just greedy luck and a very bad idea.
Atem sighed.
"Pitiful."
He withdrew his hand. The cultivator's eyes fluttered for a second—then went completely blank.
With a wave of his hand, Atem broke the minds of all five rogues like they were mere puppets. Their souls were peeled from their bodies and scattered into the spirit realm, a much more relaxing place where karma had better customer service.
The bodies slumped.
Ichigo blinked. "Okay. Remind me not to get on your bad side."
Atem turned to the group, his cape fluttering with final-boss energy.
"They were unimportant pawns," he said. "No real connection to the artifact. They heard the legend from a dying noble of the Xiao Clan."
He looked to Naruto. "They've served their purpose."
Naruto stood nearby, arms folded, still thinking. "So... this isn't some world-ending threat yet. Just some opportunists who heard the wrong bedtime story."
"Exactly," Atem said. "But something more powerful may still be watching."
Toriko cracked his knuckles. "I say we find that Xiao guy. Track the source."
Luffy raised a hand. "Wait, wait—how do we get around this place again? Boats? Clouds? Flying pigs?"
Goku laughed. "Flying pigs sound cool."
Naruto stepped in. "Before we talk about long-term plans… we should probably figure out how to get home."
He knelt and drew a symbol in the dirt with his finger: a spiral. A familiar sign. The FTG Technique, his father's teleportation jutsu.
"I can teleport pretty much anywhere on this planet," he said. "But other dimensions? Not yet. That's Sasuke's thing. Once he realizes I'm missing, he'll come looking. Dimensional stuff is basically his weird hobby now."
Ichigo crossed his arms. "What, he just opens gateways to other dimensions like a cosmic hole puncher?"
Naruto shrugged. "Pretty much."
Atem, still unreadable, raised an eyebrow. "And the rest of you? Any dimensional escape plans?"
Toriko shook his head. "I follow flavor. Not physics."
Ichigo sighed. "The Soul Society doesn't exactly have a travel agency for other worlds."
Luffy laughed. "I just go wherever the wind takes me!"
Tsuna quietly admitted, "My box animals and guardians are powerful, but they don't do interdimensional transit." He sounded disappointed. "Yet."
Atem himself was the only one who might have had a method. But even he, bound to the laws of ancient magic and order, was summoned by fate, not by choice.
"So we're stuck," Ichigo muttered.
"No," Naruto said, standing up with renewed determination. "We're not stuck. We've been summoned. That means this world needs us."
"Or wants us dead," Ichigo said.
"Same thing, usually," Tsuna added cheerfully.
"Until Sasuke comes," Naruto continued, "we help. We protect. We learn."
Atem nodded. "And we find the truth about this legend. Because whoever crafted a summoning ritual powerful enough to cross time, space, and continuity, might be planning something much bigger than rogue cultivators."
Above them, the clouds parted slightly, sunlight trickling through like divine approval.
In the distance, a bell rang. The village was preparing a feast in the heroes' honor—because apparently, saving them from magical war criminals earned you free soup and awkward applause.
Toriko perked up. "Did someone say food?"
"Feast," Goku confirmed. "Big one."
"Race you there!" Luffy yelled, already stretching his arms like a human slingshot.