Gacha Senju: Lucky Perks, Lucky Ladies

A/N: This was the longest chapter I have ever written. I am done for today. (｡ŏ﹏ŏ) Let's meet tomorrow. ᕦʕ •ᴥ•ʔᕤ

Chapter 11: Mission Failed

They sprinted through the forest, their footsteps pounding against the dirt. Kiyoshi's lungs burned, every step sending waves of exhaustion through his body.

Behind them, he could hear their enemies moving.

They're still following us!

Mikoto suddenly called out, "Left—there's a stream ahead!"

Kenshiro veered left immediately, the rest of them following without hesitation.

The ground sloped downward, leading them toward a narrow river cutting through the valley.

Kiyoshi's eyes widened. A river…!

If they could lose their scent trail, they might actually get away.

Without stopping, Kenshiro grabbed a handful of explosive tags and tossed them into the trees behind them.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

A chain of explosions tore through the forest, sending up a thick cloud of smoke and debris.

They reached the riverbank. Kenshiro turned, his face dead serious.

"Into the water. Now."

No questions. No hesitation.

Kiyoshi plunged into the freezing cold water, Mikoto and Ryota right behind him.

They kept low, allowing the current to carry them downstream, their bodies hidden beneath the churning surface.

For several agonizing minutes, they drifted, moving farther and farther from the battlefield.

Then—

Silence.

The cold river water had done little to numb the pain in Kiyoshi's body. His muscles screamed with every movement as he dragged himself onto the muddy bank, completely exhausted. Mikoto and Ryota were no better, both drenched, breathing heavily, and too drained to say much.

Kenshiro was the last to emerge from the river, shaking water from his hair as he scanned the surroundings. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by something Kiyoshi hadn't seen before.

Frustration.

Silence settled over the group as they recovered.

Then, finally, Kenshiro spoke.

"We're done."

Kiyoshi blinked, still catching his breath. "...What?"

Kenshiro exhaled through his nose, eyes flickering back toward the valley they had fled. "This mission is over. We're heading back to the village."

Ryota let out a relieved laugh, dropping onto his back. "Oh, thank the gods."

Mikoto was silent, her expression unreadable.

Kiyoshi sat up, his heartbeat pounding. We're leaving? Just like that?

"But… the mission—"

Kenshiro cut him off with a sharp look. "The mission has changed. We came here to investigate the missing teams—not to die."

Kiyoshi swallowed hard. He understood the logic. Their enemies had outmatched them. If Kenshiro had been injured, then that meant even he wasn't confident they could win.

And yet—

Something in Kiyoshi hated this.

Hated running.

Hated retreating.

Hated losing.

"But what choice do we have?"

Mikoto finally spoke, her tone quiet. "...When do we move?"

Kenshiro glanced at the dark sky. "We rest for a few hours. At dawn, we run as fast as we can toward Konoha. If we push hard, we'll be back in a day."

Kiyoshi felt his chest tighten.

So that was it.

The mission was a failure.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

They gathered near a rocky outcrop, their bodies sore and drained. No one spoke much. Even Ryota, who usually had something to complain about, simply rested against a boulder, staring at the star-filled sky.

Kiyoshi sat apart from them, trying not to think.

The night air was heavy with exhaustion, but the team finally had a plan.

They were leaving.

Kenshiro had made the call. The mission was over. There was nothing more they could do without getting killed.

At dawn, they would begin the long trek back to Konoha, leaving the valley behind.

Kiyoshi still damp from the river, stares up at the star-filled sky.

It was over.

Then—

[Daily Gacha Spin Available!]

A soft blue glow flickered in the corner of his vision.

Kiyoshi blinked, almost startled.

Oh… right. It's midnight.

He pulled up his system interface, staring at the [Spin] button.

For the past few days, the Gacha had given him unexpected advantages. The Shadow Cloak had saved him. The Binding Wire had helped them set a trap.

If he got something good now…

He hesitated.

Then, with a sigh, he pressed [Spin].

The wheel spun, glowing symbols flashing by. Jutsu scrolls, kunai, chakra pills—

Then—

[Obtained: Smoke Tag – Special Grade]

Kiyoshi frowned.

"Smoke tag?"

He quickly opened the description.

---

[Smoke Tag – Special Grade]

An advanced version of a standard smoke bomb. Once activated, it releases a dense chakra-infused mist that disrupts enemy sensory perception, including the Byakugan, Sharingan, and scent-based tracking. Duration: 5 minutes.

---

Kiyoshi exhaled sharply.

Five minutes of complete sensor disruption? That was insane.

If they had used this before… they could have escaped more cleanly. Maybe even turned the tables.

For a moment, excitement surged through him. Maybe—

Then, just as quickly, it died.

What was the point?

"We're leaving."

The mission had already failed.

No matter what he got from the Gacha, they had already decided to run.

Kiyoshi clenched his fist around the tag, then tossed it into his inventory.

"It doesn't matter anymore."

He let out a bitter chuckle, leaning back against the rock.

"At least I'm alive. That's what matters, right?"

As long as he was alive, as long as he still had the Gacha System, then one day, he wouldn't be in this situation.

One day, he'd be strong enough that running wouldn't be necessary.

But today… today wasn't that day.

Hours passed. The night air was cold, and despite the exhaustion, sleep didn't come easy.

Mikoto sat nearby, her crimson eyes dimmed in the firelight. Kiyoshi noticed she hadn't said much since Kenshiro made the decision.

"...It bothers you too, huh?" he muttered.

Mikoto didn't look at him. "What does?"

Kiyoshi exhaled. "Leaving."

Mikoto's fingers tightened slightly around the kunai in her lap.

For a long moment, she didn't answer.

Then—

"We didn't finish the mission."

That was all she said.

But Kiyoshi understood.

And so did Kenshiro.

The fire had long since burned down to embers, leaving only a faint glow to push back the creeping darkness. The silence of the night was oppressive, wrapping around them like an unseen force.

Kiyoshi sat with his back against the rocky outcrop, staring at the sky. He was still awake—his mind refusing to shut off despite the exhaustion pulling at his limbs.

A few feet away, Mikoto rested with her back against a tree, kunai in hand. Ryota had finally drifted off into a restless sleep, one arm draped over his injured side.

And Kenshiro…

Kiyoshi glanced toward their sensei, who sat cross-legged at the edge of their small camp, eyes half-closed but alert.

Kiyoshi wanted to believe they had escaped. That the enemy had given up and they could just leave this valley behind.

But something felt wrong.

The air was too still.

Then—

Mikoto's eyes snapped open.

A heartbeat later, Kenshiro moved.

"Get up." His voice was quiet, sharp. Deadly serious.

Kiyoshi was already on his feet before he even realized it. Mikoto and Ryota followed instantly.

No one asked why.

They felt it too.

A presence.

They were being watched.

Kenshiro's hand hovered near his kunai pouch, his sharp gaze flickering through the darkness. His voice was barely above a whisper.

"…They found us."

Ryota's breathing hitched. "How?! We shook them at the river—"

"They were never far behind," Mikoto muttered, her Sharingan glowing in the dim light.

Kiyoshi's stomach tightened.

They had never escaped at all.

The enemy had been waiting for them to let their guard down.

They are playing us.

Then, Kiyoshi realized something worse.

They could have caught them already.

Easily.

They were toying with them—dragging this out, watching, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Letting them run, letting them believe they had a chance, only to pull the ground out from under them at the last second.

It wasn't just a hunt.

It was entertainment.

A slow, deliberate game of despair.

Kiyoshi swallowed hard, his fists clenching. The realization settled like ice in his veins.

We aren't just outmatched. They want us to feel it.

A shadow flickered between the trees, moving too fast for him to track. A presence loomed just beyond sight, circling, waiting.

Kiyoshi suddenly felt small.

For the first time in a long time—

He felt helpless.

And now—

They were here.

CRACK.

A twig snapped somewhere in the trees.

Then—

They struck.

Kunai whistled through the air.

Kenshiro deflected three in a single motion, his kunai flashing as he knocked them aside.

Mikoto's Sharingan caught the movement of an enemy rushing toward them from the left. She barely had time to shout a warning—

Ryota was already reacting, sword flashing to meet the attack.

Kiyoshi ducked under another kunai, twisting just in time to see three masked figures emerge from the trees.

One of them spoke, his voice calm. Mocking.

"You really thought you could run?"

Kiyoshi's pulse pounded in his ears.

Their enemies had planned this.

They were never meant to escape.

Kenshiro moved first.

His form vanished, reappearing behind one of the enemy shinobi. His kunai slashed outward—

Blocked.

The masked leader deflected the strike with unnatural speed.

Kiyoshi barely had time to process the fight before his own opponent lunged.

A kunai aimed for his ribs.

He twisted at the last second, the blade slicing through his jacket instead of his flesh.

But he was too slow to counter.

The enemy's fist crashed into his stomach.

Kiyoshi stumbled back, coughing.

They're too fast. Too strong.

They needed an opening.

Something to turn the tables.

Kiyoshi's eyes hovered over the inventory.

His eyes widened.

The Smoke Tag.

"Wait! I have an idea!"

Mikoto sidestepped a kunai and glanced at him. "Make it fast."

Kiyoshi held up the tag. "This isn't normal smoke—it'll block everything. Even chakra tracking. We can use it to break their formation."

For a split second, even Kenshiro hesitated.

Then—

Another kunai slashed toward them.

No time for questions.

Kenshiro's gaze flickered.

He gave a barely noticeable nod.

"Find the best moment," he ordered, his tone sharp. "Then signal me."

Kiyoshi gulped.

"No pressure, huh?"

He shoved the tag back into his pouch, gripping a kunai tightly.

All he had to do…

Was survive long enough to turn the fight.

Mikoto's Sharingan flashed dangerously as she clashed with her opponent, her kunai deflecting strike after strike.

Ryota fought alongside her, his katana blocking a downward slash, only to be forced back by a brutal counterattack.

Kenshiro was still locked in combat with the masked leader, their movements blurs of speed and steel.

Kiyoshi focused on his own enemy.

The shinobi rushed him again, kunai glinting.

"Wait for it..."

He dodged left, letting the kunai slice past his arm—

Then countered.

His flaming fist smashed into the shinobi's side.

The enemy staggered, a grunt of pain escaping him.

But Kiyoshi didn't press the attack.

Because this wasn't about winning.

It was about timing.

"Just a little more..."

His heart pounded.

Then—

It happened.

Kenshiro baited the masked leader into a strike—then disengaged, leaping back.

The enemy formation shifted.

A gap.

Now.

Kiyoshi threw the Smoke Tag into the ground.

FWOOOSH!

The moment the tag detonated, a dense, unnatural mist flooded the battlefield.

The enemy reacted instantly—

But it was too late.

"Got you."

Their chakra flickered—then vanished.

One of them cursed.

"I—I can't sense anything!"

Kiyoshi grinned.

"That's the point."

Mikoto and Ryota disappeared into the mist.

Kenshiro's voice cut through the smoke.

"Now. Finish them."

And the counterattack began.