In the pitch-black spatial passage, countless streaking lines of warped color snaked past Kensei's vision, bridging vast distances in an instant, straining his spiritual body and Reiatsu to their limits.
Hiss!
The friction between his body and reishi grated in his ears.
Finally, light appeared ahead.
"Urgh!"
Kensei stumbled from the spatial rift, vomiting blood.
His right hand clutched the severed stump of his left shoulder, but blood still gushed through his fingers.
His face showed no trace of pain's grimace, only a visceral, heart-pounding terror.
His eyes trembled faintly.
He exhaled shakily.
His heart, gripped by fear, seemed to forget its beat.
For the first time in years, he felt the emotion called "cowardice."
"Monster… that monster…"
Kensei muttered unconsciously, his expression twisting into venomous resolve: "We can't stick to the plan."
He raised his head to the clearing, muttering coldly:
"We have to kill that guy before this fool's sanity completely collapses!"
In the heart of the Aokigahara forest, Takasugi, now mostly Hollowfied, was bound from head to toe by steel-like straps, pinned in place.
His surroundings were encircled by countless Reiatsu threads, forming translucent, cocoon-like spheres.
His form was faintly visible from outside.
His face still bore an indescribable madness, his back's tentacles moving with true sentience, rooting into the ground like tree roots, pulsing and contracting, absorbing something beyond Takasugi's mental limits.
His upper clothes were shredded, revealing a muscled torso, his heart covered by a half-mask.
The mask seemed fused into his muscles and organs, connected by visibly throbbing veins, expanding and contracting.
He was completely immobile.
Thump! Thump!
Only the heavy, drum-like heartbeat pounded, weighing on nearby hearts.
Breathing grew labored.
Sensing Kensei's Reiatsu, Takasugi, curled in the sphere, snapped his eyes open.
The instant his eyelids lifted, even Kensei's heart skipped.
Black vertical pupils, set in dark green irises, locked onto him like blades, carrying a cold, viscous malice.
He no longer resembled anything human.
Clearly, his transformation was in its final stage.
Per the original plan, they'd block all Soul Society reinforcements, absorb enough Shinigami Reiatsu, then unleash a fully evolved Takasugi to assault Soul Society.
But the plan had failed.
As long as Makoto lived, they couldn't harvest enough Reiatsu to push Takasugi to the planned strength.
Kensei was certain: soon, Makoto, tracking his Reiatsu, would find him.
Then, Takasugi, himself, everyone, would die at that monster's hands.
In such a moment, only a desperate measure remained.
If they couldn't capture more Shinigami…
Then something else would do.
Hollows, perhaps?
The only one who might object was Takasugi himself.
As a Shinigami, his soul might withstand merging with hundreds of Shinigami souls.
But infused with hundreds or thousands of Hollow energies, no way could he retain sanity or self.
Still.
Kensei had no qualms.
"Hey, Takasugi-kun."
He pressed a hand to the translucent sphere, as calm as possible: "Your body can still hold, right?"
Hearing this, Takasugi, mid-stable evolution, seemed to sense something. His black pupils in green irises constricted, glaring at Kensei with sharp killing intent.
"No."
Kensei shifted tone, cold: "You must hold."
"Kensei!"
From the sphere's depths, Takasugi's heavy, rasping voice grated like metal.
But as it rang out, Kensei had already turned away.
Behind him, an unprecedentedly massive spatial rift appeared between them.
The moment it formed, Hollow swarms ravaging the Living World froze, as if under an irresistible command. Ignoring their foes, even as they were cut down, they rushed madly toward the rift.
"Hey, hey."
"What's going on?"
Shinigami, seconds ago on the brink of death, watched their enemies charge in one direction, stunned.
Some bold ones followed, slashing freely.
No matter the provocation, the Hollows didn't respond.
As if some irresistible delicacy beckoned.
…
"What a terrifying guy."
Kinroku adjusted his glasses, gazing at the tide of Hollows pouring into a spatial rift, murmuring in awe.
At his feet, several cleanly sliced "Hollow" lay.
The earth was soaked in blood.
…
"Huff, huff-"
Shunsui gripped his twin blades, eyeing the "Hollow" that suddenly halted, blood trickling from his forehead over his eye.
Though his vision was red, he dared not move.
Even with the enemies frozen, he maintained his dual-wield stance, shedding his usual laziness.
What's with these things?
Despite the stinging pain of his wounds, his mind raced, eyes locked on the creatures.
…
"Damn it!"
"Daring to underestimate me?"
Ginrei panted heavily, glaring at the monsters that stopped.
Nearly half his squad lay dead.
In exchange, half the Hollows littered the ground, the area scarred by fierce combat.
Ginrei seethed, fingers brushing the Reiatsu Limiter on his chest.
If not for this cursed limiter capping his Reiatsu at one-fifth, his team wouldn't have suffered such losses.
Damn it, we applied for limiter release before departing.
Why no authorization yet?
Is it those Genji School fools again?
Ginrei gritted his teeth.
But as he fumed, the monsters stirred.
Rustle,
Everyone tensed, staring at the varied "Hollow."
Then, they abruptly retreated.
"Hm?"
…
Kensei stood, quietly looking skyward at the chaotic, sky-darkening horde, a faint smile breaking through.
"With this number… even a monster like him can't resist!"
"Truly."
"Exciting."
"Even that Man's appetite should be sated, no?"
He clutched his shoulder wound, muttering.
With his low voice, endless Hollows poured from the giant rift, swirling in the sky like streams merging into a roaring river, flowing to the sea.
Once their numbers crossed a threshold, even these lesser Hollows, below Gillian level, unleashed staggering power.
When it seemed enough…
Kensei extended a single finger, pointing toward Takasugi.
The translucent barrier, meant to serve as a protective membrane during evolution, instantly became a cage trapping him in place.
The moment he saw Kensei's gesture, Takasugi's eerie green vertical pupils widened, his mouth gaping as if letting out a ferocious roar.
But all sound and movement were drowned out by the swarm of lesser Hollows rushing like a howling torrent.
Countless lesser Hollows descended in a sky-shrouding cascade, plummeting straight toward Takasugi.
Like a pitch-black waterfall.
The ground trembled.
A slow smile crept across Kensei's face.
---
"Pfft."
The blade plunged into the neck of a host body, then was slowly withdrawn.
The blood staining Saito's Shuketsukyū soaked into the blade's depths, as if the icy weapon itself thirsted for it.
The massive body before the petite girl collapsed to the ground with a dull thud.
She turned, hoisting the blade onto her shoulder, shouting:
"So boring! These trash."
"I told you, just let me handle them all!"
"Makoto!"
But as Saito yelled and turned, she saw Makoto gripping a host body by the neck with one hand, the other clutching its tail, letting the creature thrash in his grasp.
"Hey?"
Saito looked up at him, puzzled. "What are you doing? Don't toy with your prey, kill it already."
"That's not a good habit."
Saito scolded like a mother lecturing a child, though her single eye lingered on the creature's neck and heart, betraying a hint of eagerness.
Hearing her, Makoto reacted, explaining, "It's not about toying with it."
"Haven't you noticed, Saito? Their abilities."
"Huh?"
Saito froze, not quite catching on.
Makoto tightened his grip, and amid the host body's piercing screeches, he tore its tail clean off.
A shrill wail echoed in their ears.
Yet Makoto's voice remained calm. "These creatures' tails don't obey their own commands, and their abilities are all different, aren't they?"
"It's almost like… a Zanpakuto."
"!?"
Saito's eyes widened.
Thud.
The severed 'tail' fell to the side, still writhing like a living thing.
The body in Makoto's grip trembled weakly, its beastly howls shifting into human-like cries of pain.
Realizing this, even Saito seemed to catch on.
"You mean… these things are alive and parasitized?"
"Who knows."
Despite his words, Makoto grabbed the host body's mask and yanked it upward.
Crack!
The faint sound of tearing flesh rang out.
Beneath the mask, a face emerged, one Makoto recognized.
"Ohhh!"
Saito's single eye widened further.
How did this guy figure it out?
"You… bastard."
The man, half his face torn and stuck to the mask, muttered weakly, his breaths shallow and labored.
Makoto thought for a moment before asking, "You're a former officer of the Eighth Division, aren't you?"
"I've seen you before."
The middle-aged man didn't respond, only glaring at him with cold defiance.
"Yes!"
A voice answered from behind.
Kurayashiki Ryoma appeared with a few remaining squad members, quickly explaining, "This is Shimamura Itama, former Sixth Seat of the Economic Intelligence Section, under the Eighth Division's Intelligence Bureau. He's also one of the retired officers who should've been detained in the Nest of Maggots."
"I apprehended him myself not long ago."
"Captain Makoto."
Makoto turned, smiling calmly.
"Ryoma."
"I'm glad you're alright."
Kurayashiki Ryoma discreetly wiped the blood from his body, glancing at the corpses strewn across the ground before exhaling. "Thanks to you."
"Hmph."
"What a disgusting bunch."
Shimamura, the former officer, sneered weakly. "A group of bastards who drive out their meritorious seniors, and now you put on this brotherly love act in front of me?"
"How laughable."
Makoto released his grip, and the hoarse-voiced man fell to the ground, too weak to move.
Yet his gaze remained icy, fixed on them, his lips curling into a smirk.
Unafraid of death.
Makoto looked at him, puzzled, and asked, "Drive out?"
"You were just retired as scheduled, weren't you?"
"No one forced you to die, did they?"
But at his calm inquiry, Shimamura's voice grew agitated, his body trembling. "Isn't that the same as forcing us to die?!"
"Damn it!"
"I spilled more blood for the Genji School than you youngsters could ever know!"
"Still in my prime, yet they stripped me of my position, my authority, and tossed me some measly compensation!"
"Meanwhile, kids who barely passed a few tests took our places…"
"What is that if not humiliation?!"
"This unjust Soul Society deserves to burn!"
His words dripped with fury, his eyes blazing at Makoto.
Makoto exchanged a glance with Kurayashiki Ryoma beside him.
Clearly, this was a veteran who had bled for the Genji School and suffered for the Seireitei.
Even in this dire situation, he harbored no regrets for what Kensei had done to them, instead cursing those before him. There was a reason behind his rage.
Makoto suddenly asked, "Shimamura, you were the Sixth Seat of the Economic Intelligence Section, right?"
"So what!"
Shimamura Itama's expression was stern, righteous.
Makoto continued, "A hundred and thirty years ago, the West Branch jointly issued the economic report, establishing a new economic term called GDP."
"What's its full name?"
Caught off guard, Shimamura's expression faltered.
"Uh?"
"Well… um…"
The retired Shinigami's bravado deflated, and he stammered, unable to answer.
Without another word, Makoto thrust his blade into Shimamura's neck, sighing, "That's why you were forced to retire."
"It's been nearly a hundred and thirty years."
Shimamura's body stiffened, collapsing to the ground.
Eyes open in death.
Saito turned away, pretending not to see, whistling softly as her small straw sandals tapped a rhythm.
She didn't know what that "GDP" thing was either.
"Alright."
Makoto sheathed his blade and turned to the two. "From now on, when we encounter these things… we'll have to take them all out."
"Yes, sir!"
Kurayashiki Ryoma had no objections.
As the vice-captain of the detention unit, he knew all too well the kind of people locked away in the Nest of Maggots.
As he thought this, Makoto suddenly turned, his eyes narrowing.
The next moment.
On the distant horizon, a reverse waterfall surged skyward, piercing the heavens.
"Hm?"
***
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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