At those words, Shimo's expression shifted in surprise, a trace of confusion flickering in his eyes.
In his impression, the Visored had always been extremely hostile toward Soul Society. For all sorts of reasons, they'd come to hate Shinigami to the bone.
"Mind explaining why?" Shimo tapped the low table lightly, the rhythmic thuds falling into a brief silence.
…Wait. This low table felt like a spiritual tool too. So life in the Human World hadn't been quite as "hard" for the Visored as he'd imagined.
Shinji Hirako looked uncharacteristically serious.
"Of course. That's the sincerity we ought to show."
He turned his head and called toward Hiyori on the rock.
"Oi, Hiyori—bring three cups of tea over here!"
SMACK!
A flying slipper nailed Shinji square in the head.
"Baldy, are you trying to die?!"
Hiyori's temper was on full display.
"Go pour it yourself!"
The slipper hit with absurd force, sending Shinji tumbling backward onto the floor.
But he got up quickly, rubbing the bright red shoeprint on his face.
"My apologies, Shimo-san," he said with a sigh. "Hiyori's always like this."
Shimo chuckled. "It's fine. I don't really care."
No sooner had he finished speaking than Yadōmaru Lisa walked over with a teapot and cups, setting them down in front of Shimo.
"Would you mind if I joined this conversation?"
When she wasn't reading certain questionable books, Lisa was actually pretty normal.
"Allow me to introduce myself properly. I'm Yadōmaru Lisa—former Lieutenant of the Eighth Division."
Shimo understood immediately.
Lisa wasn't participating in this talk as a Visored… but as the former Eighth Division lieutenant.
She was probably here to ask him about Kyōraku Shunsui.
"Of course," Shimo said. "I don't mind."
But Nel instinctively edged closer to him, watching Lisa with open wariness—like she was guarding something precious from being stolen.
"Alright." Shinji rubbed his temples and forced the conversation back on track. "Let's continue from where we left off."
The shoeprint was still on his face, but he'd clearly given up. Image? Dignity? That ship had sailed.
"As for Aizen's schemes… I don't think I need to spell them out," Shinji said, tone hardening. "After the battle in Seireitei, you probably understand it better than I do."
Shimo gave a noncommittal nod.
"And his help isn't just Ichimaru Gin and Tōsen Kaname," Shinji continued. "He has all of Hueco Mundo."
The Visored hadn't spent these years hiding for nothing—they'd investigated plenty.
"The Hollow incidents from over ten years ago, and the current ones too." Shinji's expression grew grim. "I can guarantee it—this is Aizen's handiwork."
"The force he commands is at least on par with the Gotei 13… maybe stronger."
Shimo already knew that much.
With all of Hueco Mundo behind him, Aizen's mid-to-high-tier power could absolutely outstrip Seireitei's. Only the very top end was lacking—
But top-end power in Soul Society was scarce too.
Zero Division wouldn't move lightly.
Yamamoto was a strategic weapon they couldn't just deploy—because if the Human World fell, Soul Society would fall with it.
And beyond them…
Shimo's gaze drifted for the briefest moment.
If you subtract them, there aren't many left.
Meanwhile, the high-tier matchups were the Gotei 13 versus the Arrancar—especially the Espada.
And now…
The "soul modification" plan had shattered the old balance.
Shimo—the butterfly flapping its wings—had already changed reality.
Aizen was using new methods to restrain the Gotei 13.
The Residual Hollows were proof.
Trading lifespan for raw power.
The Espada itself displayed strength that reached the captain-class threshold.
It was hard to imagine how much the other Espada might improve.
"So," Shimo said calmly, "your goal is simply to kill Aizen."
Shinji hesitated… then nodded.
"Yes."
"Then your thinking isn't wrong," Shimo said, straightening. His tone turned strange—almost weightless.
"But don't forget something."
"The Visored are the weakest party among the three."
Shinji's eyes sharpened.
"So I need to know," Shimo continued evenly, "whether your strength is going to drag us down."
Shinji bristled. "What exactly are you implying?"
Shimo lifted his cup and took a small sip.
"Simple. We fight, and we'll know."
The instant those words fell, the spiritual pressure in the underground space shifted.
Shinji frowned, pressing a palm downward—signaling the others to stay calm.
"How do you want to do it?" he asked.
Shimo set the cup down and stood, sweeping his gaze across the entire room, letting it pass over each Visored.
"One-on-one."
Then his smile widened.
"Me versus all eight of you."
"Come together. Take turns. I don't care."
"Only after you prove your strength do you qualify as teammates."
Different expressions surfaced across their faces—surprise, disdain, caution, severity.
They'd never underestimated the new Third Division Captain…
But soloing the entire Visored was too much, wasn't it?
"Shimo-san," Shinji tried to stop this from escalating. "I think you should already know what we're capable of—from Urahara Kisuke."
"Every one of us can match a captain-class opponent."
Shimo raised an eyebrow.
"Including Captain-Commander Yamamoto?"
"—Cough, cough!" Shinji choked violently.
"T-that old man isn't in the discussion!"
"Kyōraku Shunsui?"
Shimo tried dragging his idiot uncle into it.
Shinji's face twisted as he shook his head.
He knew exactly how deep that man's water ran.
"Then Unohana Retsu?"
Shinji's expression only grew more bitter.
Why did he suddenly feel so weak after hearing those names?
Shimo's voice softened into something almost cheerful.
"Then… me?"
Shinji froze.
Only then did he realize what Shimo had done: by choosing those comparisons, Shimo had already placed himself on a higher rung.
Kyōraku Shunsui… Unohana Retsu…
And Yamamoto Genryūsai—
Shinji snapped himself out of it with a sharp shake of his head.
The first two were possible…
But Yamamoto's level? With Shimo's age, surely he was still short.
"…If you're that confident," Shinji said at last, meeting his eyes, "then I'll challenge you."
Shimo thought for a moment, then nodded.
"Fine. If you insist."
Off to the side, Lisa sighed helplessly.
"I wanted to ask some questions, but now…"
Nel obediently retreated, moving to the far edge of the space to wait quietly for the fight to begin.
Shinji didn't show the slightest carelessness.
He considered himself strong—but not strong enough to casually instantly kill a captain.
So—
WHOOOSH!
A massive chunk of stone tore through the air with brutal force, hurtling toward them.
Tap.
Shimo flicked a finger.
A pulse of spiritual pressure shattered the rock into dust.
"Annoying!" Hiyori roared. "Quit shaking like some damn coward!"
She flashed forward with high-speed Shunpo, appearing in front of Shimo in an instant.
"Cut him off—Kubikiri Orochi!"
Her Zanpakutō released in a heartbeat, her spiritual pressure surging severalfold as the blade came down from above toward Shimo's head!
CLANG—!
A heavy impact rang out as steel met steel.
Red and deep-crimson spiritual pressure slammed together, exploding into a fierce wind that rippled outward.
Shinji's pupils contracted, his expression turning even more severe.
'I didn't even see when he drew his sword…'
He'd been watching Shimo the entire time.
And still… he hadn't caught it.
"This is pretty rude," Shimo sighed, a hint of helplessness in his eyes. "But it was my idea."
Honestly, he didn't want to fight either—he'd only just finished battling the Espada.
Getting dragged into another fight immediately didn't fit his lazy personality at all.
But—
The system had issued a special mission moments ago.
[Ding!]
[Special Check-In Mission: Establish Authority issued.]
[Defeat three or more Visored at the Visored base.]
[Reward: Hollow Iron Skin! (Hollow System unlocked.)]
Hiyori's Kubikiri Orochi had a notch in the blade—one that snapped shut around Shimo's Zanpakutō, locking it in place.
She felt the force pressing back against her and her expression tightened.
"Hah. Not bad."
She threw her head back and laughed, her left hand reaching up to her head.
A strange mask with sharp horns appeared in her hand—
Click.
"Looks like I'm gonna go serious!"
Hiyori opened her mouth. A torrent of red reiatsu gathered—
"Hiyori!"
"This feels like it's going to go wrong—"
"That idiot—she's too reckless!"
Cero!
BOOOOM—!
A red beam erupted point-blank at Shimo.
At that distance, dodging was impossible—defending should've been impossible too—
Yet shockingly, the Cero crawled forward at a ridiculous speed, like it was wading through tar.
Hiyori's face changed under her mask.
She could feel the terrifying resistance ahead—the Cero was being steadily consumed.
Wait—
Shimo's Zanpakutō… had changed.
The sword locked against Kubikiri Orochi was now unnaturally long, dyed a blood-red hue, radiating suffocating pressure.
"What kind of ability is that?!" Hiyori snarled.
Shimo only smiled, saying nothing.
Then he flexed his arm and blasted her away in a single motion.
Her Cero was drained away until it vanished completely.
"You really think I'm going to tell an opponent my ability?" Shimo said lightly. "If you want to know…"
"Simple."
"Beat me—and I'll tell you everything."
Hiyori looked like a lioness in a rage, unwilling to accept.
She was about to charge again when a large hand stopped her.
"Damn it, Baldy Shinji! What are you doing?!" she shouted.
Shinji ignored the screaming, voice low and heavy.
"You're not Shimo-san's opponent."
"…Leave it to us."
He stepped forward, stopping less than ten meters from Shimo.
Two others moved with him—
Former Captain of the Seventh Division, Aikawa Love.
And former Captain of the Ninth Division—Muguruma Kensei.
The moment Shimo saw Muguruma Kensei, his expression turned… oddly complicated.
'…With my current strength, how many "Kensei" can I beat?'
Kensei's brow furrowed, staring Shimo down.
"What are you laughing at?"
Hot-tempered as ever, he couldn't shake the feeling that Shimo's smile was aimed right at him.
"I'm not laughing," Shimo said, forcing the grin down. "I just thought of something funny."
"Hmph." Kensei snorted. "You won't be smiling once we beat you."
Shinji bared neat, white teeth—almost eerie in the dim light.
"Shimo-san… I hope you survive."
"Hachigen—set up at least three layers of Kidō barriers!"
Hachigen Ushōda nodded, clapping his hands together.
"En—"
In an instant, multiple barriers unfolded, sealing the entire underground space.
The former Vice Kidō Chief's skill was on full display.
"Hah—listen up, brat!" Kensei cracked his knuckles together, the shockwave booming through the room. "There's no stopping now, got it?!"
"This is the price of your actions!"
BOOM!
He kicked off the ground like an arrow loosed from a bow, arriving in front of Shimo in an instant.
His short, dagger-like Tachikaze spun up countless green gales, surging toward Shimo.
Shimo remained calm. He extended a palm, black-purple spiritual pressure gathering in his hand.
Hachigen's body stiffened.
Terror surged up from the pit of his stomach.
"Get out of there—NOW!"
But it was too late. TOO LATE.
Shimo closed his hand in midair and spoke softly:
"Hadō #90…"
"Kurohitsugi."
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