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The air shimmered, and Retsu Unohana materialized before Russell in all her deceptive glory. Her long braid draped elegantly over her chest, while the white captain's haori billowed around her form, concealing more than it revealed. Everything about her radiated maternal warmth and gentle wisdom.
"Please give me more guidance in the future, Russell," she said, her smile as soft as spring rain.
Yeah, right. Russell wasn't buying the act for a second. Behind that serene expression lurked the most terrifying killer in Soul Society's history—a woman who'd earned the title "Yachiryu" by mastering every sword style known to the afterlife, then inventing a few more just for fun.
As if reading his thoughts, Unohana's smile never wavered, but her autumn-clear eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "I feel as if you're thinking something rather rude, Russell."
Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. Note to self: Never play poker with someone who's had centuries to perfect their fake smile.
"Ahem." He scrambled for a subject change. "Speaking of which, Captain Unohana, could you explain your [Yachiryu: Hidden] characteristic? The description was a bit... vague."
Her expression shifted to one of gentle distress—though Russell suspected even that was calculated. "According to the information in my mind, I can access my true swordsmanship when my condition is... shall we say, reduced?"
"Ah." Russell nodded slowly. "The old 'hurt me and find out' special."
It made perfect sense, actually. Until the final arc of her story, Unohana had played the role of benevolent healer so perfectly that most forgot she was anything else. And that deception would serve him beautifully in battle.
He could already picture it: enemies breaking through his front line, targeting the "fragile healer" in the back. They'd expect an easy kill, maybe some desperate defensive Kidō. Instead, they'd meet Yachiryu's blade. The thought made him grin.
And if they ignore her? Well, a level 90 Kidō spell would remind them why that was a mistake.
"Speaking of swords," Russell said, schooling his features into seriousness, "I have a blade of my own. Perhaps we could... exchange pointers?"
Unohana's gaze swept the cramped bedroom, one eyebrow rising delicately. "Here?"
Russell's nod was perhaps a bit too eager.
The next morning, Russell groaned as he rolled out of bed, one hand pressed to his lower back. Every muscle ached in ways he hadn't known muscles could ache.
"Silver level is really different," he muttered, stretching carefully. Thank god Arrogance had been strengthening his physique to Black Iron level over the past month. Without that enhancement, last night's "sparring session" might have actually killed him.
Though what a way to go, he thought with a stupid grin. He'd faced the greatest villain in Soul Society's history and emerged victorious. His swordsmanship had proven superior, his blade finding its mark again and again until she'd finally conceded defeat.
"My blade isn't so bad at all," he declared to his reflection, hands on hips in triumph.
After a quick shower to wash away the evidence of battle, Russell checked his phone for messages.
[Mr. Stern]: Russell, your admission procedures have been completed. The relevant materials will be sent to your home in the next two days. Please be sure to check for them.
Mr. Stern? Russell scratched his head, then remembered—the admissions officer from Northgate University.
[Russell]: Got it.
He switched to the "A Loving Family" group chat Hazel had added him to. Still silent. Probably all off in secret realms or saving the world, he mused. With Director Blake's personality, his disciples would definitely be the heroic type. And heroes were always busy.
February 2nd - First Day of Spring Semester
BOOM!
The ground shook as something massive landed at the Aethelgard Campus entrance. The early-morning crowd scattered, then turned to stare at what could only be described as a nightmare made flesh—a towering humanoid figure wrapped in writhing black and red tentacles.
"Holy shit, is a secret organization attacking?"
"What kind of death wish is that? This is the Aethelgard Campus!"
"Right? If you're gonna pick a fight with Northgate University, at least start with one of the weaker campuses."
The students had a point. Aethelgard housed the prestigious card-making department, staffed by emerald-level professors and several diamond-level masters. Attacking here was like punching a sleeping dragon in the snout.
"Wait, is that a creature card?"
"Has to be. But I've never seen anything like it in the department catalog."
"Maybe someone made it over winter break?"
"Okay, but where's the cardmaker?"
Their answer came as the monstrous form began deflating like a punctured balloon, the tentacles retracting and condensing until only a young man remained, looking remarkably unbothered by his dramatic entrance.
"What the hell kind of card was that!?"
"No idea. Never seen anything like it."
"...Anyone recognize him?"
"Nope. Definitely not from our department."
Russell, blissfully aware of every whispered comment thanks to Arrogance's enhanced hearing, decided to take pity on the confused crowd. He approached two students who had the unmistakable air of card-making majors—one thin and nervous, the other round and confident.
"Excuse me," he said, producing his admission letter. "Could you point me toward this classroom?"
The thin student accepted the letter with the reverence due to official documents, scanning it carefully. "You're starting half a year late?"
His friend smacked his arm. "Can't you read? Look at the date—January 28th of this year." Then his own confusion kicked in. "Wait, we're accepting students mid-year now? Since when?"
Russell shrugged with practiced nonchalance. "Early admission. I got lucky."
When it became clear he wasn't offering more details, the thin student pivoted. "You have your student ID, right?"
Understanding the real question—Are you actually supposed to be here?—Russell produced his ID and swiped through the security gate with theatrical precision. The scanner's cheerful beep silenced any doubts.
"Now then," he said, turning back with a winning smile, "about those directions?"
The two students exchanged glances. Whatever they'd expected from their Monday morning, it wasn't this.
"Follow the main path to the Crystal Tower," the round one said finally. "Third floor, east wing. Can't miss it."
"Thanks." Russell gave a casual wave and strolled into campus, leaving behind a growing crowd of curious onlookers.
(End of this chapter)
Throw Power stones plz