The salty breeze of Dagobah Beach stung my face as I hauled a rusted microwave across the sand, my muscles burning with the effort.
It had been a week since I completed the Gacha System's mission to master 10% of One For All and bond with Inko, my mom in this world.
My body was stronger now, leaner, with a hint of definition in my arms and legs. The green sparks of One For All flickered faintly when I pushed myself, but I was careful—too much power, and I'd shatter my bones.
I set the microwave down, storing it in Dimensional Pocket with a thought, and wiped sweat from my brow. The beach was nearly two-thirds clear, a testament to weeks of grueling work.
As I caught my breath, a sharp ding echoed in my mind, louder than usual. The Gacha System's neon interface flared to life, but something was different. The text pulsed erratically, like a glitching screen, before stabilizing into a bold announcement.
System Update: Version 2.0
Changes Implemented:
System Level Removed: Progression now tied to user growth and actions, not numerical levels.
Random Daily Pulls: One free pull per day, granting random quirks, skills, or items of varying tiers. No points required.
Points & XP Removed: Gacha Points and XP systems discontinued. Rewards are now based on daily pulls and user initiative.
Missions Paused: No missions will be assigned until further notice.
Initializing First Daily Pull…
I blinked, my heart racing. No levels? No points? No missions? The system had been my guide, structuring my training with clear goals. Now it was… random? I barely had time to process before the interface spun, a kaleidoscope of colors replacing the familiar Common, Rare, and Legendary tiers. Images flashed—fire, swords, glowing orbs—before stopping abruptly.
Congratulations! You have received: Item – Senzu Beans x20 (S-Tier)
Description: Restorative beans from the Dragon Ball Z universe. Each bean fully heals injuries, restores stamina, and replenishes energy. One-time use per bean. Store in Dimensional Pocket for instant access.
Twenty small, green beans materialized in my palm, glowing faintly. I stared, my jaw dropping. Senzu Beans? From Dragon Ball Z? These were game-changers—literal lifesavers that could heal broken bones or exhaustion in seconds.
I quickly stored them in Dimensional Pocket, the rift swallowing them with a shimmer. If I was going to face U.A.'s entrance exam or worse, villains like the League, these beans could mean the difference between life and death.
But the system's update worried me. Random pulls every day, with no missions or XP to guide me? It felt chaotic, like I was at the mercy of luck. And what did "user growth and actions" mean for progression? I shook my head, focusing on the present.
I had One For All, Dimensional Pocket, Enhanced Reflexes, Combat Instinct, and now Senzu Beans. The exam was weeks away, and I needed to keep training—system or no system.
_____________
That morning, I pushed harder than ever. The beach's junk pile was my proving ground. I lifted a car door, channeling a flicker of One For All into my arms. Green sparks danced, and the door felt lighter, but my elbow twinged with pain.
I stopped, breathing heavily. 10% was my limit for now; anything more risked injury. I stored the door in Dimensional Pocket and switched to bodyweight exercises—push-ups, squats, sprints along the shore.
Enhanced Reflexes made my movements fluid, and Combat Instinct sharpened my awareness, letting me dodge imaginary attacks as I ran.
I imagined facing U.A.'s robots, using Dimensional Pocket to summon stored debris as weapons or shields, enhanced by One For All's strength.
Combat Instinct would help me react to their movements, and a Senzu Bean could bail me out if I pushed too far. But the randomness of the system's new pulls gnawed at me. What if tomorrow's reward was useless? A quirk I couldn't control? I needed consistency, not chaos.
As the sun climbed higher, I headed home, my shirt soaked with sweat. Inko was waiting, her green hair tied back as she watered plants on the balcony. Her smile was a balm after the morning's grind. "Izuku, you're working yourself to the bone," she said, setting the watering can down. "Come inside. I made tamagoyaki."
I grinned, following her in. The system's mission to bond with her was over, but I wanted these moments. Inko was my anchor in this world, her warmth grounding me amidst the uncertainty of quirks and villains.
Over breakfast, we talked about small things—her coworker's new puppy, my favorite All Might fights. I avoided mentioning the system or One For All, but I shared my progress on the beach.
"I've cleared a lot of Dagobah," I said, poking at my eggs. "It's starting to look like a real beach again."
Inko's eyes sparkled. "That's incredible, Izuku. You're doing something good for everyone, not just yourself."
Her words hit deep. I wasn't just training for U.A., I was making a difference, even in small ways. The system didn't chime—no XP anymore—but I felt a spark of pride. Maybe that was the "user growth" the update meant.
_____________
The next day, I returned to the beach, determined to refine One For All. I focused on precision, using 10% in short bursts to lift heavier objects—a rusted engine block, a cracked refrigerator.
Each success built confidence, but I was careful, mindful of the pain that lingered if I pushed too far. Combat Instinct kicked in during training, alerting me to loose debris or uneven ground before I tripped. It was like a sixth sense, blending seamlessly with Enhanced Reflexes.
The system's daily pull came at noon, the interface flaring without warning.
Daily Pull Initiated…
Congratulations! You have received: Skill – Minor Telekinesis (B-Tier)
Description: Allows the user to move small objects (up to 5kg) within a 10-meter radius using mental focus. Range and weight limit may increase with practice.
I tested it immediately, focusing on a nearby tire. It wobbled, then lifted an inch off the ground before dropping. My head throbbed from the effort, but I grinned. Minor Telekinesis wasn't earth-shattering, but combined with Dimensional Pocket,
I could levitate stored objects into position—perfect for setting traps or creating barriers. I practiced for an hour, moving rocks and metal scraps, my control improving slightly.
The randomness of the pull was a double-edged sword. Senzu Beans were a godsend, but Minor Telekinesis felt situational. Still, I'd make it work.
I spent the afternoon alternating between physical training and quirk practice, using Telekinesis to toss small objects into Dimensional Pocket mid-air.
My body was adapting, my stamina growing. I could feel One For All settling deeper into my muscles, like a fire waiting to be stoked.
______________
That evening, I took Inko to a local park for a walk. The system's missions were gone, but I wanted to keep our bond strong. We strolled under cherry blossom trees, their petals falling like soft snow.
Inko carried a bento she'd packed, and we sat on a bench to eat, the city's lights twinkling in the distance.
"You've been so focused lately," she said, handing me a rice ball. "I'm proud, but… are you okay? You seem… different."
I froze mid-bite. She was perceptive, more than I'd realized. "I'm just… trying to be the best I can be," I said carefully. "For U.A., for you."
She smiled, but her eyes were worried. "You don't have to carry the world, Izuku. Just be you."
Her words lingered as we walked home. Being me was complicated—I was Izuku, but also someone else, reborn with a system and a quirk I wasn't supposed to have.
The system's update only deepened the mystery. Why had it changed? Was it adapting to me, or was something else at play?
______________
The next morning, I was back at the beach, pushing my limits. I lifted a massive water heater, One For All sparking at 10%. My arms strained but held, no pain this time.
I stored it in Dimensional Pocket, then practiced Telekinesis, levitating a wrench to unscrew a bolt from a nearby car frame. Combat Instinct warned me of a falling tire, and I dodged with Enhanced Reflexes, my movements seamless.
The system's daily pull came again.
Daily Pull Initiated…
Congratulations! You have received: Item – Weighted Training Bands (A-Tier)
Description: Adjustable bands that increase resistance during movement, enhancing strength and speed training. Store in Dimensional Pocket for easy use.
I strapped the bands to my wrists and ankles, feeling their weight drag at my limbs. They were perfect for pushing my body further.
I ran sprints, the bands making each step a battle, but One For All's power helped me push through. By the end of the session, my legs were jelly, but I felt stronger.
Inko joined me that afternoon, bringing a picnic to the beach. She gasped at the cleared patches, the sand gleaming under the sun. "Izuku, this is amazing! You're doing this all by yourself?"
"For now," I said, grinning. "Maybe I'll get some help eventually."
We ate sandwiches and talked about her childhood dreams—she'd wanted to be a nurse once, helping people like heroes did. I shared my own dream, careful not to mention the system or One For All. "I want to save everyone, Mom. Like All Might."
Her eyes glistened. "You will, Izuku. I know it."
_____________
Days turned into weeks, my routine a blend of training and time with Inko. The beach was nearly clear, only the heaviest junk remaining. My body had transformed—still lean, but with defined muscles and a newfound confidence in my movements.
One For All at 10% felt natural now, letting me lift massive objects or leap across the beach without strain. Minor Telekinesis improved with practice; I could now move 7kg objects with better precision, using them to set up training obstacles or simulate combat scenarios.
The system's daily pulls were a mixed bag. Some were useful—like a Smoke Bomb (B-Tier) for escapes or a First Aid Kit (C-Tier) for minor injuries—but others were quirky, like a Holographic Disguise Pen (C-Tier) that projected temporary illusions. I stored everything in Dimensional Pocket, building an arsenal for the exam.
One evening, while watching a hero news broadcast with Inko, I learned something that shook me. The reporter mentioned All Might's protégé, a third-year U.A. student named Mirio Togata, rumored to have inherited a powerful quirk from the Symbol of Peace. My heart sank. Mirio had One For All in this world, not me. The system had given me the quirk, bypassing All Might's choice.
Inko noticed my silence. "Izuku, what's wrong?"
I forced a smile. "Just… thinking about U.A. It's going to be tough."
She hugged me, her warmth easing my doubts. "You'll shine, Izuku. You always do."
_______________
The final day of the week brought me back to the beach. The last major pile—a rusted truck frame—loomed before me. I strapped on the Weighted Training Bands, channeled 10% of One For All, and lifted.
The frame groaned, but I held steady, my muscles screaming. Combat Instinct guided my balance, and I dragged it to the dump, collapsing in triumph as the beach lay clear, sparkling under the sunset.
The system chimed, unprompted.
Congratulations! User growth recognized: Cleared Dagobah Beach.
Daily Pull Initiated...
Congratulations! You have received: Skill – Energy Efficiency (A-Tier)
Description: Reduces stamina consumption for quirk usage by 20%. Effect improves with practice.
I grinned, exhausted but elated. Energy Efficiency would let me use One For All and Telekinesis longer, a perfect boost for the exam. As I sat on the sand, Inko arrived, carrying a thermos of tea. She gasped at the cleared beach, tears in her eyes. "Izuku, you did it."
"For you," I said, standing to hug her. "And for everyone who needs a hero."
We sat together, watching the waves. The system's randomness was daunting, but I had Senzu Beans, a growing arsenal, and a body ready for One For All. Mirio's inheritance of One For All raised questions, but I pushed them aside. The U.A. exam was next, and I'd face it with everything I had—system, quirks, and Mom's belief in me.