"If I ever actually used this skill, the label 'naturally evil Uchiha' would be stuck on me forever."
While spitting out this sarcastic remark, Uchiha Kei couldn't deny the power.
The technique really did live up to its golden rarity. According to the system, it only consumed stamina—and even that was measured by Earth standards.
As someone currently boasting the noble two-tomoe Sharingan, Uchiha Kei's mental strength was quite formidable. On top of that, he had his system-issued energy supplements—otaku combo meals.
With all this, activating a technique as meme-tier as the "Colon Flavor Technique" would turn Kei into the most terrifying control specialist on the battlefield. The move didn't even have a range limitation—as long as he could see the enemy, it could be cast.
Sight equaled lock-on. Lock-on equaled activation. Activation meant instant hit.
The hit rate and application method made it far more insane than Amaterasu (Heavenly Illumination), which also locked on with the eyes.
If this technique worked through TV or livestream, it'd be utterly broken.
Even so, the damage potential was overwhelming.
Kei was sure that if he ever used it, not just his enemies, but even his teammates would be terrified of him.
Still…
"Dark as hell, but definitely effective!"
Having now understood its mechanics, Kei felt pretty good.
The activation conditions were generous, the effect was overwhelming, and in a true life-or-death scenario, this technique would be his trump card—one that could change everything.
After all he'd experienced in the shinobi world, Uchiha Kei was very much a pragmatist. He wouldn't avoid using a powerful skill just because it was creepy or made him look bad.
He then used the remaining two golden spirits dropped by Madara Uchiha and performed two more ten-pulls.
This time, his luck wasn't so great. No golden-quality items, just one purple-grade item in each pull, with the rest being a sea of blue and green.
The two purple items were not skills, but tools—still sticking to the system's usual low-key design.
The first was a durable bulletproof vest. Another nameless, label-free system item. Its name: Bulletproof Vest. Its appearance: a plain green camo vest. Thin enough to wear under clothing.
Its effect, though, was fantastical—once worn, an invisible barrier would envelop the wearer, granting full-body protection against most firearms, truck impacts, and even standard grenade blasts.
Naturally, the game development system created such a miraculous item for "commercial warfare"—to prevent any backhanded assassination attempts on its host.
Typical dumb system logic.
The second item was a stamina-enhancing potion that permanently boosted physical endurance by 10%. It was the same type as the limited-supply potion Kei once bought from the shop—meant to improve his grindlord potential.
Kei didn't hesitate. He used it immediately. The 10% stamina boost had a clear impact—he felt energized, like he could move forever. A clear physiological response to a sudden spike in endurance.
Aside from those three high-quality items, the rest were just minor bits and pieces.
The green-grade items were bulk versions of his otaku combo meals—like six-pack bundles of soda.
Honestly, if this kept up, Kei felt like he could start selling his surplus joy-inducing junk food.
As for the blue-grade items, they included phones, tablets, laptops, game consoles, satellite phones, survival kits, and even enhancement pills—an eclectic collection.
Unfortunately, all those electronics were basically useless—they were designed for Earth in 2024, and the ninja world had no networks or signals.
Sure, they had the best specs from 2024, but came fresh out of the box with only default apps—totally "clean" systems with no added features. Their usage was extremely limited.
If Kei were a scientific maniac, they might've been handy. But he wasn't.
Even his game development now relied on spiritual network technology, so those devices were even less practical.
They could still be used, technically—but how? He'd have to brainstorm, maybe discuss with others. After all, many minds working together could lead to brilliant breakthroughs.
For instance, maybe he could use this high-end gear to lure Orochimaru or Amado and form a merry team of evil scientists.
In short, that was the haul from his three golden spirit draws—a solid yield.
The biggest gain was discovering the very existence of "Golden Spirit" as a resource. And unlike regular emotion points, golden spirit had no cap per game.
Normally, emotion points had upper limits tied to each game's engagement. But golden spirit? No limit.
In theory, as long as a player like Madara Uchiha kept reacting emotionally, one game could generate infinite golden spirit.
Of course, that's just theory. Everyone's emotional threshold rises over time. A game without variation gets boring, no matter how good it is.
So a game must constantly evolve and stay fun to have a long yield cycle.
This is known as game lifespan.
That's why among all game genres, competitive games have the longest lifespan and emotional engagement potential.
By letting players battle each other and use their wits, unpredictable variety is constantly introduced—keeping emotional output high.
Therefore, to farm golden spirit, the best option is to develop compelling PvP games. Fighting games, MOBAs, battle royales—you name it.
Technically, gambling games could also work. But aside from Tsunade and Hashirama, gambling wasn't very appealing to other Kage-level shinobi.
Kei now realized—competitive games were finally worth prioritizing.
Previously, because emotion points had strict rules and caps, long-term PvP games weren't cost-effective.
But now that golden spirit was on the table, everything changed.
Clearly, the system's design encouraged him to go all-in on every genre of game development.
"This game dev system really does its job well."
Understanding this, Kei let out a sigh—and the moment he did, he received another wave of emotion points and one more golden spirit.
Checking the system, he saw—it was from that old fossil Madara Uchiha again.
Kei couldn't help but stand tall in reverence, deeply admiring the Uchiha Clan's most charismatic ancestor.
His gold drop rate absolutely crushed everyone else.
Plenty of Kage-levels lived in the Leaf. The genjutsu game launched here first. Yet not one of them had dropped a single golden spirit.
Compared to the coin-exploding grandpa Madara, they were all just useless wastes hogging their seats.