She didn't expect the man in front of her to say her name so easily.
"You... you know me?"
The man wearing the captain's haori didn't explain how he knew. He everything that happened within the Seireitei. Instead, his tone shifted, and his cold eyes stared down at Omaeda Mareyo as he gave his chilling evaluation.
"In the Omaeda family full of idiots, you are the only one with potential."
"...?"
Mareyo blinked in confusion, unsure how to respond. The words were harsh, dismissive—but also oddly direct. And before she could decide whether to be offended or flattered, the man spoke again.
"If you don't want your life to be wasted, leave your house as soon as possible. Continuing to involve yourself with your father and elder brother will bring you harm, not benefit."
She froze. There was no mockery in his tone, no sarcasm—just a blunt, uncaring truth. Still, she felt a twinge of anger rise.
Her fingers clenched the fabric of her sleeve. She wasn't sure who this stranger was or why he seemed to know her so intimately, but his words—especially those aimed at her family—were unacceptable.
Although she wanted to be angry, her upbringing as a noble restrained her instincts. Calmly, she responded, "Although I don't know where my father or brother might have offended you, I can assure you they're not the fools you describe. And if they have indeed wronged you somehow... I apologize on their behalf."
The man showed no change in expression. His tone remained flat. "Whether they're worthless fools or not... I know far better than you."
He turned to leave. Mareyo instinctively took a step forward, ready to stop him.
But just as she was about to speak again, a loud thud echoed through the shop as a large figure stumbled in.
"Little sister!"
Omaeda Marechiyo had arrived. His presence immediately filled the space with a different kind of chaotic energy. He was panting, face twisted in irritation, his robes still marked with dust and soot.
There had been a surge of hollow signatures in the Seireitei—a sudden explosion in Noble Street followed the arrancar's earlier intrusion. When Marechiyo learned that his sister was out in the commercial district alone, he dropped everything and ran here. Unfortunately, he had tripped and fallen flat on his face before making his dramatic entrance.
He picked himself up, groaning, and glared at his sister. "Why are you arguing with a captain here—wait..."
His eyes fell on the man in the haori.
At first, he assumed this must be Zaraki Kenpachi, given the distinctive Eleventh Division insignia on the back. But then, something didn't add up.
"You bastard... who the hell are you?"
Marechiyo's tone turned sharp.
There was no Zanpakutō on the man's side. No spiritual badge. And yet, he wore the unmistakable captain's uniform of the Gotei 13.
"You bastard! You dare wear a captain's haori even though you're not a captain?! Do you have any idea what kind of crime that is?"
Marechiyo pointed a trembling finger. His voice was shrill with panic and rage.
But the man simply said his full name in a dispassionate tone.
"Omaeda Marechiyo."
Marechiyo's face turned pale. His lips moved as if to respond, but then his instincts kicked in and he drew his blade. A heartbeat later, the clash began.
And ended.
The man overpowered Marechiyo with frightening ease, sending him crashing into a row of shelves.
*Crash!*
He turned away, ready to leave.
But then—
"Bakudō #63 – Sajō Sabaku (Ethereal Binding Chain)!"
A golden lattice of energy flew toward him from behind. It was cast by Ginjiro, the former vice-captain of the Sixth Division.
He hadn't drawn his sword in decades. Yet now, seeing this man appear here of all places, a man who should never walk again in the Seireitei, he acted without hesitation.
Simultaneously, another voice roared from the street.
"Bakudō No. 61 –Rikujōkōrō (Six-Rod Light Restraint)!"
Six rods of light slammed down from above, pinning the man in a standing position. A towering figure strode into the shop. His spiritual pressure was overwhelming—more than even Marechiyo's.
It was Omaeda Marenoshin, the retired vice-captain of the Second Division, and father of both Mareyo and Marechiyo.
He had received a distress signal and rushed over on his own. But what he saw stunned him—the man standing near his daughter was not just any criminal.
"You... don't expect me to let you go, do you?"
The man turned slightly toward him, unconcerned. "Are you planning to stop me?"
"Isn't it obvious? Any father would act if the man who's supposed to be imprisoned for life in Muken is standing next to his daughter!"
Gasps echoed.
The information he dropped sent a chill through the room.
Omaeda Marechiyo stared at the man, dumbstruck. He knew what Muken was. He knew how sealed and protected it was. A shinigami escaping from there—especially one infamous enough to be imprisoned for life—was unthinkable.
"No way... How is this possible?"
The man met Ginjiro's gaze and spoke calmly. "The condolence money from 250 years ago. Along with the interest. It's on the counter. Please accept it."
Then, as if the restraints were made of paper, he shattered the Bakudōs with a pulse of his reiatsu.
*Boom!*
And he vanished from the shop without a trace.
…
In the First Division headquarters, Yamamoto Genryūsai stood at the center of the hall. The ancient Captain-Commander's expression was dark as stone. The other captains stood in silence, listening to his words.
"First, multiple arrancars breached the Seireitei. Then an explosion rocked the Noble Street. And now..."
He paused.
"According to the former vice-captain of the Second Division, Omaeda Marenoshin, and former vice-captain of the Sixth, Shirogane Ginjiro... a criminal once hailed as Kenpachi—Azashiro Soya—was spotted in the commercial district."
The silence was broken only by the murmurs of shock.
"I have confirmed it myself—Kenpachi Azashiro has escaped Muken."
Unohana's serene face finally changed. Ukitake Jushiro frowned deeply. Kyouraku Shunsui's usual laid-back expression tightened with tension.
Younger captains like Hitsugaya Toshiro, however, remained confused.
"Kenpachi... Azashiro? Is this some kind of joke? Isn't that name inherited in a death duel?"
Kuchiki Byakuya replied stoically, "Indeed. The Kenpachi title is earned through mortal combat. Only one Kenpachi may exist at a time."
"But... among the eleven generations of Kenpachi, there was an exception."
Captain Yamamoto's voice was like a blade across stone. "That exception was Azashiro Soya."
"He defeated the Seventh Kenpachi, Kuruyashiki, and inherited the title of 'Kenpachi'. But rather than dying in battle, he was imprisoned—due to crimes committed not on the battlefield, but within the Soul Society."
Shunsui stepped forward. "The Ninth Kenpachi, who succeeded Azashiro, perished in battle against Kiganjo from Rukongai. The one who defeated Kiganjo and inherited the name… is the current Kenpachi, Zaraki."
Toshiro narrowed his eyes. "So... who was stronger? Zaraki or this Azashiro?"
Shunsui folded his arms. "That's a tough one. Both are monstrous in their own ways. But during his entire time in the Gotei, Azashiro was never seen drawing a Zanpakutō. Not once."
Toshiro blinked. "You mean he didn't use Shikai?"
"No. I mean... no one ever saw his blade. Either it was invisible—or never drawn. Either way, terrifying."
Komamura Sajin, silent till now, finally spoke. "Could it be... an illusion-type Zanpakutō like Aizen's Kyōka Suigetsu?"
"It's possible. We may never know."
Yamamoto concluded grimly, "What we do know is this—his escape wasn't random. He had help. And the same explosion... the same chaos... the same signature of arrancar energy..."
He trailed off. The unspoken name hung heavy in the air.
Everyone was thinking the same thing.
The new King of Hueco Mundo.
The man who once walked these halls as a shinigami—and left as something else entirely, and the one who is now known for his hatred of nobles.
Kyo Mazuru.
*****
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