In Naruto, multiverse and more with Gacha system

Souichiro Takagi let out a slow breath, nostrils flaring as he scanned the men in front of him. Blood, gunpowder, and the sickly stench of rot clung to the air, thick enough to taste.

"Alright, how bad?" he asked, like they weren't standing in the middle of a warzone.

"Seventeen injured," one of his men reported, wiping blood off his cheek. "Most'll pull through. Few might not make it." A pause. "Ninety-seven dead."

Souichiro clicked his tongue. "Tch. Could be worse."

Could be better, too. But he wasn't about to start weeping over corpses. Death was cheap now, and they'd all been given the same ultimatum adapt or die.

"Keep an eye on the injured. If any of 'em start looking too dead, you know what to do."

Nobody argued. Hesitation got people killed. They'd all seen it happen.

"Food situation's decent for now, but let's not get lazy. Get a team together, sweep the shops, malls—wherever there's still shit worth taking. Priorities are food, water, medicine, and ammo. Anything else is a bonus."

The men nodded and got moving. Good. That's why they were still breathing.

Souichiro rolled his shoulders, eyes drifting to the city in the distance. Smoke curled into the sky, flames flickering in the ruins. The world had gone to hell, and somehow, this still wasn't the worst of it.

"Still don't know how this mess started," he muttered, half to himself. "And I'd bet my last bottle of whisky it's gonna get worse."

His fingers curled around the hilt of his katana before he turned, making his way back to the mansion.

It was nearly empty now. Most of the staff had either run or died not that it mattered. The ones who were left? He had a use for them.

"Round up the servants," he ordered without looking back. "Throw them outside. Let the dead chase them."

A necessary sacrifice.

To keep him safe.

Nobody questioned it. That's why these men were still alive.

Reaching a familiar door, Souichiro paused, a slow grin creeping across his face.

Finally.

Opening it, he stepped inside. The room was dim, the air heavy with the scent of perfume and stale resentment. On the bed, a light purple-haired woman lay, unaware of his presence.

His grin widened.

"I've been waiting for the right moment to end this little charade," he murmured, shutting the door behind him.

And this?

This was perfect.

Souichiro drew his katana, the blade sliding free with a soft whisper.

Stepping closer, he pressed the cold steel against her stomach.

One cut. That's all it would take. No more pretending. No more drama.

But—

"Sir! We're under attack!"

The door slammed open, and one of his men rushed in, breathless and tense.

His eyes flicked to the scene the katana, the woman, the intent, then back to Souichiro. He didn't react. Didn't even blink.

Because why would he?

Souichiro was the leader. The rules didn't apply to him.

With an annoyed click of his tongue, he pulled back his blade.

"Who?"

The soldier hesitated for a beat before answering. "Not the dead. This is different."

The next second, the man's body split in two.

Blood sprayed across the walls, hot and thick, like someone had just uncorked a pressurised bottle of red. The wet slap of flesh hitting the floor filled the room, but Souichiro barely blinked.

His expression didn't change.

Didn't even flinch when the corpse twitched.

Instead, he looked past the mess, past the pooling blood, and met the gaze of the one who'd done it.

Golden eyes.

Long hair.

Definitely not one of his men.

And definitely not some shambling corpse.

"Who the fuck are you?" Souichiro asked, gripping his katana a little tighter.

Orochimaru stepped over the corpse like it was nothing, twirling his kunai between his fingers, eyes flicking to Souichiro with mild amusement.

The man didn't hesitate he went straight for the kill. Smart. But also so stupid.

Orochimaru wasn't interested in playing. He let Souichiro think he had a chance for all of half a second before slipping behind him, too fast to track.

One hit.

That's all it took.

Souichiro hit the ground like a sack of bricks, out cold before he even knew he lost.

Orochimaru barely paid him any mind. The guy was still useful. That was the only reason he was still breathing. Everyone else? Not so lucky.

He moved through the mansion like a shadow, cleaning house, making sure there were no loose ends.

And then her.

Yuriko Takagi.

Orochimaru took his time approaching, golden eyes dragging over her mature, refined, all curves in the right places.

A perfect MILF.

His grin widened as he reached out, fingers trailing up her face.

Then he pried her eyes open.

A pause.

Then a low chuckle.

"Ohhh…" He tilted her chin up, smirking.

Now this—this was interesting.

***************

OC Characters ideas