"Hey, you…"
Saitō huffed, trailing Makoto, but her voice cut off.
Makoto crouched on the forest path, his expression grave, pulling a bloodstained black cloth from the dense jungle branches.
At his feet, a pile of shattered fragments glowed faintly, emitting black smoke.
The telltale sign of purified Hollow energy.
Saitō's scowl vanished, her brow arching. "What's this? Someone died?"
"Doesn't seem like it."
Makoto studied the crushed eyeball at his feet, then glanced at the bloody cloth, puzzled. "Looks like an ambush."
"Almost like they're luring me in."
"Oh."
Saitō nodded, striding toward the blood trail's direction without a second thought.
Makoto blinked, calling out, "I said it's probably an ambush!"
"Shut up!"
"Means there's someone to cut, right?"
Saitō marched on as if she hadn't heard, unfazed by the prospect of a trap, even smirking slightly.
She'd been itching for action this whole time.
Unconsciously, her snake-like tongue flicked over her lips, tinting them red.
Her lips curled into a wicked grin.
"Besides…"
About to say more, Saitō paused, smacking her lips as if she'd misspoken, pretending nothing happened.
Her single purple eye flicked to Makoto, trailing her with a sulky air, and she snorted, turning away.
Besides, you're here, you idiot.
But as they pushed through the thick jungle, both halted, their gazes stunned by the scene.
The path to the village ahead was littered with tattered Shihakushō, occasional scarlet bloodstains dotting the ground.
Clearly, many had fled, pursued, and been dragged from the forest to their deaths.
Makoto eyed claw marks on a nearby tree trunk, picturing someone clutching it in despair, only to be yanked out by monstrous force, pinned, and drained.
Their expressions grew heavier.
To kill at least twenty Shinigami so close without detection?
This strength couldn't be underestimated.
"Help… help me…"
As alarm bells rang in their minds, a faint plea rose from a pile of clothes.
Makoto's gaze snapped over, spotting a skeletal figure with a hole in its back, barely alive, voice feeble.
Hearing their steps, it lifted its head, sunken eyes gleaming with desperation, gasping:
"Makoto-sama, that thing's true form… its true form is…"
Before it could finish, Saitō charged forward.
Her Zanpakutō, gripped reverse, plunged into the near-corpse with a thud, tearing a shrill gust.
One strike pinned the "corpse" to the ground.
Saitō eyed its hollow shell and the odd sensation through her blade, her tongue flicking as she sneered:
"Fool!"
"My nose didn't catch a whiff of blood on you."
But before she could yank her blade free, the shriveled body shattered like smashed porcelain, exploding into countless fragments.
Before Saitō could move, the ground beneath her collapsed inward, forming a stretchy net.
Snap!
The net closed, shaping into a wide, fan-like tail.
Saitō, never slacking in three centuries of training, used Shunpo so swift it left no trace, not even stirring dust.
Makoto glanced at her, mildly surprised.
Where she'd stood, a chameleon-like Hollow rose, its body blended perfectly with the soil, its fan-shaped tail a seamless part of the environment.
The Hollow's tail opened and closed like a folding fan.
Each time it opened, pained whimpers echoed from within.
"Save me…"
"You bastards!"
"I don't want to be eaten!"
"Mom!"
The voices shifted like a performance, but the Hollow's gaze fixed on the two, probing for any reaction.
Yet, to its dismay, their faces showed no change.
As expected.
For these two, forged in blood and slaughter, such tricks were useless?
"Boring."
Saitō twirled her blade, straw sandals stepping toward the freak, chuckling lowly: "Words like that need your voice to be amusing!"
"Fool."
Her words fell.
Her petite form streaked across the ground, leaving a long afterimage.
Blade raised, strike delivered!
Thud! BOOM!
A muffled impact, then the chameleon Hollow, raising its arms to block, staggered. Its broad body was crushed into the earth by colossal force, the ground exploding with a deafening roar.
The Hollow's masked gaze shifted, blood spraying from crushed joints.
Before it could resist, a sandal-clad foot flashed at blinding speed, smashing its mask.
In an instant, the pale bone mask cracked, the Hollow's heavy frame sent skidding like a stone, bouncing across the ground three or four times.
Such strength!
Its wide, flat body hung in midair, the thought barely forming when it glimpsed twin ponytails.
Its pupils contracted.
The girl, now beside it, extended a hand. Her slender palm unleashed a force rivaling a meteor's fall, seizing its mask and slamming it into the earth.
BOOM!!!
Head down, feet up.
Half its body sank into a massive crater, legs bent at unnatural angles, likely fractured from the impact.
Dark blood stained the girl's palm.
Saitō, unfazed, smiled at the creature:
"Hey."
"Keep entertaining me!"
As her words landed, the ground behind her bulged, a rubbery, elongated body shooting forth like an arrow. Sharp bone claws gleamed, its form blending perfectly with the background.
Silent, invisible.
But,
Clang!
Saitō's Asauchi slashed backward.
The extended arm was severed, its forearm spinning into the distance.
The polished blade reflected the monster's stunned gaze beneath its mask.
"Your blood's stench didn't hide at all!"
"Damn you!"
Saitō shouted, but her face broke into a manic grin, her blade flashing like a chain of light. Every two or three strikes sent parts flying from the chameleon Hollow.
Dark blood sprayed.
Until, finally,
Thud!
A strike pierced its chest.
The petite girl loomed over the monster, bored. "This all you got?"
The creature let out a sudden "Heh" laugh.
"?"
As if sensing something, Saitō spun around.
The severed parts, scattered moments ago, suddenly floated skyward, as if pulled by invisible strings.
Then, they shot toward her, converging.
A fiery explosion erupted, engulfing a thirty-meter radius, uprooting stones and trees.
Deafening.
From the smoky depths, a twisted figure rolled out, shrouded in haze.
In moments, the warped, battered body, ravaged by the blast and impact, regenerated at blinding speed, restoring its original form.
"…One down."
A raspy, layered voice, like blades scraping, emanated from its mask.
The chameleon Hollow turned to Makoto, still unmoving, its eyes glinting faintly.
"Next, you."
Makoto smiled warmly at its words. "Love that confidence."
"But-"
Before he finished, a bone-chilling dread surged behind the Hollow.
In that critical moment, it barely tilted its body aside.
Slash!
An arm and shoulder soared into the air.
A deep, bone-revealing gash marked its back.
Blood sprayed.
Saitō retracted her blade, her pristine captain's haori dusted and tattered at the edges.
"That's all you've got at full strength?"
"Pretty proud, huh?"
The Hollow's gaze faltered, caught off-guard by her scorched marks.
But then, as if enraged, it roared at the empty space behind:
"Damn it! How long are you going to wait?"
Silence hung in the void for a moment.
Before Saitō could frown, two long-nailed fingers pierced through the emptiness.
The blank space before them tore like paper, revealing a deeper black within.
Saitō's twirling wrist paused.
Her lips curled into an intrigued grin.
"Now that's more like it."
But as she readied for a slaughter, Makoto, who'd been spectating, straightened and stepped beside her.
Saitō tensed, bristling:
"Hey! Makoto."
"These are my prey."
"I'll give you two, max."
"No can do."
Makoto's gaze sharpened, locking onto a familiar figure emerging from the dark Dangai, his voice calm: "We might need to pick up the pace."
"Hm?"
Saitō frowned, following his line of sight.
Amid a cluster of grotesque Hollows, she spotted a refined young man in a Shihakushō, looking scholarly and composed.
"Ah! That guy!"
Even Saitō recognized the mastermind.
Though she forgot his name.
"Aizen..."
Makoto, for certain reasons, had long memorized this peculiar man, asking evenly, "Before you die, I'd like to confirm something."
"This technique, it's not your invention, is it?"
"To be remembered by Makoto-sama is truly an honor."
Kensei's smile was as sincere and polite as their first meeting, but his unflinching gaze hid a madness etched into his bones.
"Sadly, I can't share that with you."
"And there's no need to, is there?"
With his low voice, Hollows, varied in form, Shinigami-sized, stepped from the black void.
They loosely encircled Makoto and Saitō.
Kensei spoke calmly: "You haven't noticed, have you?"
"The anomaly in your body."
"You didn't really think your months of monitoring and preparations in Soul Society went undetected, did you?"
"We came knowing that."
Makoto's eyes narrowed slightly.
Kensei raised his wrist, smiling at Makoto: "As captain and vice-captain, to prevent excessive damage to the Living World, the moment you pass through the Garganta, a 'Reiatsu Limiter' seals eighty percent of your Reiatsu."
"This limiter can only be lifted with Soul Society's authorization."
"But."
"What if I block the 'release signal'?"
The thick-browed man smiled at them: "At one-fifth strength, what can you do?"
His warm expression turned sharp:
"Kill him!"
As if on cue, the dozen humanoid Hollows around him roared excitedly.
Makoto watched him.
Then took a step forward.
The instant "him" fell from Kensei's lips, Makoto's lithe form breached the encirclement of humanoid Hollows.
Kensei, still mid-speech, caught a blurred afterimage in his peripheral vision.
A large hand clamped over his face.
The force on his facial bones gave the illusion his head might explode, his sluggish nerves too slow to register pain.
Time seemed to freeze.
Until the next second.
Hum,
Makoto held his claw-like grip, crouching.
The air quaked, kicking up a ring of dust.
But the man meant to be crushed into the ground vanished and reappeared.
Kensei, shaken, stood among the humanoid Hollows, panting heavily, pupils constricted.
He didn't notice the indented fingerprints on his square face.
A split-second slower, and his face would've been torn off.
Makoto turned, eyeing the pale Kensei amidst the Hollows, frowning:
"A spatial-type Zanpakutō?"
"Quite a rare ability."
"But."
"That's your reason for facing me?"
Kensei's brows knotted, staring in disbelief: "How? The limiter didn't work?"
"No!"
"You broke the limiter instantly?"
"Truly worthy of a legend from three hundred years ago…"
"Nope."
Makoto tugged open his loose Shihakushō collar.
On his left chest, the Ninth Division's "White Poppy" emblem glowed clearly.
"Rest easy."
He smiled warmly at the man: "It's still working just fine."
"Your plan succeeded."
The moment Kensei saw the emblem, his face stiffened, turning ashen like a fresh corpse.
"Idiot."
Even Saitō couldn't stand it, scoffing: "You fools didn't know anything and still thought you could topple Seireitei?"
Her voice grew low.
Her amber-purple eye glinted with cold menace.
Her indifferent words shattered Kensei's last mental defense. The words he'd bottled up erupted in a roar of fear or rage.
"Go!"
The surrounding humanoid Hollows, receiving the order, shot forward like arrows, converging on the two.
Kensei stepped back.
And bolted!
His form vanished into the dense forest, a fleeting afterimage.
No!
The intel was wrong!
Didn't Takasugi say Yamamoto was only that strong?
He'd planned based on that intel!
Seventeen Hollowhusks with near Tier-3 Reiatsu should've killed that man.
Now…
"Hey!"
As Kensei's thoughts raced, a bone-chilling voice rang behind him.
In the gap between the Living World and the spatial passage, Makoto gripped his left arm, speaking through a narrow, light-divided window like a dungeon grate:
"You're not escaping."
The slender fingers on his wrist were as unyielding as a vice.
Was this guy even human?
For a fleeting moment, the absurd thought crossed his mind.
But then, Kensei's pupils widened, a ruthless glint flashing.
Slash!
The space sealed shut.
Makoto stood, holding a severed arm, speechless.
"…"
What a mess.
Talked too big, too soon.
***
Bonus Chapter:
100 Power Stones = 1 BC
300 Power Stones = 2 BC
500 Power Stones = 3 BC
700 Power Stones = 4 BC
1000 Power Stones = 5 BC
***
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