[Starting in Naruto with a Daily Login System] Chapter 44 Don't tempt fate

We had the layout. We had the target. We had… questionable levels of professionalism.

"Alright," I said, spreading the stolen map on the floor of our tiny inn room. "Tanaka Gorō’s fortress has three main entry points: the front gate, which is obviously a no-go; the eastern side, which has a guard rotation we can exploit; and the underground tunnels, which—"

"—are absolutely haunted," Genma interrupted, nodding sagely.

I blinked. "What?"

Shisui, instead of being a responsible shinobi, immediately leaned in. "Oh, for sure. Every underground tunnel is haunted. It’s, like, an unwritten rule of creepy fortresses."

"That’s not a thing," Tokuma muttered, rubbing his temples.

"It should be a thing," Genma shot back. "I mean, let’s think about this logically—"

"Let’s not," I cut in. "Because I will leave all of you behind if you start ghost-hunting in the middle of an assassination mission."

Shisui grinned. "You say that, but if we run into an actual ghost, you’re definitely getting possessed first."

"That’s not how ghosts work!" Tokuma snapped, officially done with all of us.

I sighed. "You know what? Forget the tunnels. We’ll take the eastern side. Happy?"

Tokuma exhaled in relief. "Yes, actually."

Genma shrugged. "Fine, but if we get caught, I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so.’"

I ignored him.

Once I was sure no one else would derail the conversation (a foolish assumption, in hindsight), I got back to explaining the plan.

"Alright, here’s how we do this," I began. "Shisui, you’re in charge of infiltrating first. Once you’re in, you’ll signal us when the coast is clear."

Shisui gave me a thumbs-up. "Stealth mission. My specialty."

I wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or concerning.

"Genma," I continued, "you’ll back him up. If things go south, you’ll distract the guards while we reposition."

Genma smirked. "So basically, you want me to look pretty and keep everyone’s attention on me?"

"...Sure. Let’s go with that."

"Nice."

I turned to Tokuma. "You and I will stay back until the entry point is secured. Once inside, we’ll split up. You and Genma will disable any security seals while Shisui and I head for the target."

Tokuma gave a firm nod. "Understood."

"Any questions?"

Shisui raised his hand. "Yeah. Can we get snacks before we do this?"

Tokuma looked like he was physically restraining himself from throwing something. "Why would we—why?"

Shisui shrugged. "I dunno, man. Assassinations are stressful. I like to be emotionally prepared."

"You don’t have emotions," Tokuma shot back.

"Rude. Also, false."

I clapped my hands together. "Enough. No snacks. No ghost hunts. We execute this mission properly."

They all nodded.

I almost believed they’d behave.

Almost.

—

Plans were made. Gear was checked. The only thing left to do… was wait.

And I hated waiting.

It was early evening, and we were set to move in after sundown. Until then, we were crammed into a dingy inn room, trying—and failing—to act like four completely normal civilians who definitely weren’t planning to assassinate a political leader.

Naturally, this led to profound intellectual discussions.

"If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life," Genma mused, twirling his senbon, "but it had to be something cursed, what would you pick?"

Tokuma closed his eyes. "I refuse to participate in this."

"Too bad," Shisui said cheerfully. "Captain, you first."

I sighed. "Instant ramen, but it’s always slightly too hot no matter how long you wait."

Shisui winced. "That’s dark."

"That’s evil," Genma agreed.

"That’s reality," I muttered.

Shisui nodded solemnly, then turned to Tokuma. "Your turn."

"No," Tokuma said flatly.

"You have to pick," Genma pressed. "Or we pick for you."

Tokuma opened one eye. "…Fine. Rice, but every grain tastes slightly different, and I never know why."

Shisui and Genma let out twin gasps of horror.

"That’s worse than mine," I admitted.

Tokuma nodded. "I know."

There was a brief silence as we all processed the sheer malice in that choice.

Then Shisui clapped his hands together. "Alright, new question—"

Tokuma groaned. "Please, no. We are supposed to be professionals."

"Professionalism is a mindset," Shisui said wisely. "And my mindset is thriving."

I rolled my eyes. "You’re a menace."

Shisui grinned. "I try."

—

We had a few hours to burn before nightfall. Which meant we were all trapped in a room, waiting.

Genma was on the floor, flipping his senbon like he was trying to break a world record. Shisui had taken to standing on his hands for some reason. And Tokuma? Tokuma was seated in the corner with the exact expression of a man regretting every choice that led him here.

I leaned against the wall and tried to distract myself from the sheer boredom of waiting. Anything would be better than this. At this point, I would’ve taken a pointless, useless, completely absurd object just to—

Nope. Not finishing that thought. The universe had a way of listening when you least wanted it to.

Shisui, still upside down, tilted his head at me. "You look like you’re thinking really hard, Captain. What’s up?"

I blinked. "Nothing."

"Doesn’t seem like nothing," Genma chimed in. "Are you secretly composing poetry in your head?"

"Yes," I said dryly. "It’s called ‘How to Survive a Mission With Three Headaches Disguised as Teammates.’"

Tokuma nodded. "Let me know when it’s done. I’d like to contribute a chapter."

—

After days of recon, planning, and barely keeping my squad from either dying of stupidity or killing each other out of annoyance, the mission was finally moving forward.

Tanaka Gorō, the self-important daimyo of Ishigakure, had made his move. His guards were shifting, his hired rogue shinobi were patrolling, and we had finally mapped out enough of his movements to know when to strike.

The plan? Infiltrate the estate, eliminate Gorō, and disappear before anyone could figure out what happened. Simple in theory. In practice? This was going to be a nightmare.

"Alright," I said, keeping my voice low as we huddled in the darkened alley behind our temporary base. "Final check. Everything ready?"

Shisui gave me a thumbs-up. "Good to go, Captain."

Genma lazily flipped a senbon between his fingers. "Prepped and prepped again."

Tokuma adjusted his gloves. "Let’s get this over with."

I nodded, eyeing them carefully. They were ready. Maybe too ready. Which meant…

"You all remember the actual plan, right?" I asked, eyeing Shisui in particular.

He gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. "Captain. That hurts."

"It should," Tokuma muttered. "Last time you improvised, we spent six extra hours cleaning up the mess."

Shisui scoffed. "Oh, come on. That wasn’t that bad."

"You set an entire warehouse on fire," I reminded him.

"And a guy’s beard," Genma added.

"Okay, that was an accident," Shisui admitted.

Tokuma pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why am I here?"

I sighed, waving them forward. "Let’s move before I regret my entire existence."

Gorō’s estate was a fortress. Not literally—he wasn’t rich enough for that—but it was the shinobi equivalent of a paranoid billionaire’s mansion. Walls reinforced with seals, guards stationed at every entrance, and more hired muscle than necessary for a man who technically wasn’t at war with anyone.

Good thing we weren’t entering through the front door.

We moved like shadows, slipping through the outer walls undetected. Genma disabled the alarm seals while Tokuma kept a close eye on the guards’ movements. Shisui, being Shisui, was already halfway up the side of the building by the time I gave the go-ahead.

"Show-off," Tokuma muttered.

Shisui grinned down at us. "Jealous?"

"No," Tokuma said. "Mildly homicidal."

"Focus," I hissed. "We’re on a time limit."

We breached the estate quickly, moving through the corridors without a sound. Every step was calculated, every turn pre-planned. This was what we trained for—precision, speed, efficiency.

Then, of course, something had to go wrong.

Everything was going fine. Too fine. Which, in shinobi terms, meant disaster was about two seconds away.

We moved through the estate with practiced ease, slipping past guards and weaving around security seals like we owned the place. Genma handled the traps, Tokuma kept watch, and Shisui scouted ahead with his Sharingan, checking for surprises.

No alarms. No signs of trouble. No issues whatsoever.

And that’s when it happened.

A door slammed open down the hall, and a half-dressed man stumbled out, bleary-eyed and scratching his stomach. One of Gorō’s personal guards, fresh from what I could only assume was the world’s worst nap.

For a brief, glorious moment, he didn’t see us.

Then he rubbed his eyes, blinked at us, and frowned.

"…Hey. You guys aren’t supposed to be here."

Well, no shit.

Shisui moved before anyone else, vanishing in a blur of motion. The poor guy barely had time to process what was happening before he crumpled like a sack of poorly-stuffed rice.

We all stood there for a second, staring at the unconscious guard.

Then Tokuma sighed. "And there it is."

"Not my fault!" Shisui whispered.

Genma smirked. "You gonna tell Captain that?"

Shisui turned to me with the most innocent expression he could muster. "Captain, please."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Move."

We dragged the guy into a nearby room and continued forward, but the damage was done. A guard going missing? That was going to raise suspicion sooner or later.

And we really didn’t want that to happen before we got to Gorō.

We adjusted our route, moving faster, quieter. If anyone noticed something was wrong, we wanted to be long gone before they could do anything about it.

Shisui scouted ahead again, his Sharingan scanning the corridors. Then he tensed, holding up a hand. "Two guards, up ahead."

"How close?" I whispered.

"Ten meters. Talking about something. Might be able to slip past."

Tokuma shook his head. "Too risky. We should take them out."

Genma flipped a senbon between his fingers. "Or we could distract them."

Shisui raised a brow. "How?"

Genma grinned. "Weird noises. Always works."

Tokuma groaned. "I hate this team."

Ignoring him, Genma flicked a small rock toward the far end of the hall. It clattered against the wall, making just enough noise to get the guards’ attention.

"Did you hear that?" one of them asked.

"Probably just a rat," the other muttered.

"That was a big rat."

"Then you go check it."

"You check it."

"…Fine, we both check it."

They moved away, giving us an opening.

Shisui grinned. "Genius."

Genma winked. "I try."

I sighed. "Remind me why I let you people live?"

"Because deep down, you love us," Shisui whispered.

Tokuma made a strangled sound. "Can we please finish this mission before I actually die inside?"

I motioned them forward. "Move."

Time to finish this.

We slipped deeper into the estate, moving like shadows. So far, so good. No alarms, no reinforcements, and no signs of Gorō. If we kept this pace, we’d be in and out before anyone even knew we were here.

Naturally, the universe had other plans.

Just as we rounded the next corner, we came face-to-face with another guard. Not a sleepy one. Not a dumb one. But a fully alert, fully armed shinobi, already in the middle of chewing a rice ball.

For one beautiful second, we all just stood there, staring at each other.

Then he frowned. "Wait a sec—"

Shisui didn’t give him the chance to finish. He blinked out of existence, reappearing behind the guy in a flicker of motion. Before the poor fool could even drop his rice ball, Shisui’s kunai slammed into the back of his neck, and he crumpled.

A long silence followed.

Finally, Genma spoke. "That was cold, man."

Shisui shrugged. "He was a security risk."

"He was eating."

"Security risks can eat too."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "I hate all of you."

Tokuma, for the first time tonight, actually agreed with me.

We dragged the body into a storage closet and pushed forward, keeping our steps light. We were getting close. Gorō’s office was just ahead, its doors sealed with enough protective seals to make even the most paranoid shinobi proud.

"Alright," I whispered, gesturing to Tokuma. "Hawk, you’re up."

Tokuma activated his Byakugan, scanning the room inside. He frowned. "I count two people. Gorō, and someone else. A bodyguard, probably. He’s sitting near the desk, watching the door."

"Armed?" I asked.

"Definitely. He’s got a sword and enough chakra to suggest he knows how to use it."

Genma smirked. "Good thing we’re better."

Shisui nodded. "I can handle the guard. Captain, you want Gorō?"

I exhaled slowly, then nodded. "Quick and clean. No noise."

Tokuma pressed a hand against the seals on the door, scanning them with his Byakugan. After a moment, he sighed. "This is gonna take a few minutes."

I glanced at Shisui and Genma. "Watch our backs."

"Obviously," Shisui said.

Tokuma got to work, his fingers moving in precise, practiced motions as he dismantled the seals. Sweat beaded at his temple as he worked through the complex layers of security.

"Almost…" he muttered. "There. Done."

The seals faded. The door clicked open.

Showtime.

We slipped inside, silent as death. Gorō sat at his desk, casually sipping tea, while his bodyguard lounged in a chair nearby, sword resting against his shoulder.

For a moment, neither of them noticed us.

Then Gorō looked up.

His eyes widened. "What—"

Shisui moved first. His kunai flashed, and the bodyguard barely had time to grab his sword before Shisui vanished, reappearing behind him with a brutal slash. The guard gasped, blood spraying from his neck as he collapsed.

Gorō scrambled back, knocking over his tea. "W-Wait! I can pay you!"

I didn’t hesitate. One quick thrust, and my blade buried itself into his throat.

His gurgled protests faded instantly. He slumped forward, dead before he hit the ground.

Silence.

Genma whistled. "Well. That’s done."

Tokuma exhaled. "Finally."

I wiped my blade clean. "We’re done here. Time to go."

Shisui grinned. "Easiest mission ever."

The alarms went off.

I turned to him, deadpan. "Why would you say that?"

"I take it back!"

And just like that, all hell broke loose.