"Tokitake!"
"Good! Very good! "
"Get lost! Don't ever come back! Don't you dare return to the Kōmitsu Clan! "
The Kōmitsu heir roared to save the last shred of his pride—but unfortunately, he had no right to cast out a prodigy from his own clan.
"Hmph~"
"The wailing of trash."
Tokitake's eyes grew cold, ignoring the threats behind him. If you choose to endure, then keep enduring. If you choose to stop, then flip the whole table over. They were just a bunch of talentless brats—what was there to fear? At worst, he'd kill them all later… The thought flickered through Tokitake's mind like a seed, taking root deep inside his heart.
"Thanks."
Urahara followed behind Yūshirō and spoke softly.
"Eh?"
Yūshirō tilted his head lazily toward him.
"What? Is that weird? "
Urahara felt a little awkward under that look.
"You didn't think calling me 'big brother-in-law' would raise my opinion of you, did you? " Yūshirō's smirk looked straight out of a villain's handbook. "Don't think I'll approve of you dating my sister just because you suck up to me. The important thing is strength! Strength! How many times do I have to say it? "
Smack!
Yūshirō hadn't even finished before Yoruichi's fist crashed down on his head.
"Ow!"
He held his head, looking pitiful.
"Yūshirō! " Yoruichi's delicate hand rested on his shoulder. Her voice was soft—her aura, terrifying. "If you say one more stupid thing, I'll kill you."
"Yes, Sister."
For the first time, Yūshirō understood why other nobles were terrified of Yoruichi.
Above, the sky opened up.
As the five of them reached the end of the Outer Path, they looked up. Floating above were three massive disks and, at the center, a radiant palace exuding an overwhelming, divine presence—the Royal Palace itself.
"Is the Soul King inside that palace? "
Urahara gazed at it, awestruck. He could feel that indescribable spiritual pressure emanating from within. Probably even most captains weren't qualified to stand before the Soul King. Such a being was beyond Death Gods—a higher-dimensional existence.
"Yes."
Yūshirō gave the slightest nod, his face unreadable.
"You five, wait here. I'll assign your areas."
Just then, a blur of movement appeared beside them—the Big-Eyed Monk, who had just sent the unchosen children back, using a flash step so fast it was like lightning.
"To move like that… in this density of spirit particles? "
Urahara was stunned. Walking the Outer Path had felt like wading through water—and yet this man wasn't just walking in water; he was sprinting through it. The contrast sent a thrill through Urahara's chest. His curiosity burned even hotter.
"Alright, listen up," the monk said. "The brat from the Kuchiki Clan and the brat from the Kōmitsu Clan, you two head to Ōetsu Nimaiya's palace—that's the disk on the far side. Little Miss Shihōin and her boy toy here, you'll go to Tenjirō Kirinji. As for you, Yūshirō… care to have some fun with me? "
"Pass. I'm sticking with my sister. I don't trust her alone with this guy." Yūshirō yanked Urahara to his side, smirking. "Right, boy-toy? "
"It's little brother," Urahara muttered.
Yoruichi pressed a hand to her forehead. Even the Royal Guard was starting to fall into Yūshirō's rhythm—how did it come to this?
"Haha…"
Urahara laughed awkwardly.
"Fine, I respect your choice," the monk nodded. "Now, everyone—move toward your assigned places! "
"I'd love to, but… how exactly do we get up there? "
Urahara tilted his head, looking up at the floating disks.
"Climb the stairs," Yūshirō said smoothly. "Just shout up there, and they'll lower a staircase. Then we climb."
"…Seriously?"
"Do I look like I'd lie? "
"…Fair enough." Urahara nodded, then ran forward and yelled at the top of his lungs: "HELLO! COULD YOU PLEASE LOWER THE STAIRS?! "
"Pfft—"
Yūshirō doubled over laughing.
That day, Urahara learned the cruel cunning of adults—and took another step toward becoming the devious shopkeeper he'd one day be.
Smack!
Yūshirō took another hit.
"Stop messing with Urahara," Yoruichi said flatly.
"Ow…"
Yūshirō clutched his head again.
"So embarrassing…" Urahara muttered under his breath.
"Anyway," the monk continued, "we'll take the Outer Path up. It's like an aerial platform—just stand still."
"…Then why did you tell us to move toward our palaces? "
"Wanted to see if any of you were sharp," the monk said with a grin. Thick-skinned. Black-hearted.
"More like you wanted to see someone make a fool of themselves," Urahara thought bitterly. "This guy's just like Yūshirō! "
Soon after, they arrived at Tenjirō Kirinji's palace.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Those two are fine—but you, monster—what the hell are you doing here? Here to train me? Forget it! No way in hell I'm giving you a chance to lay a finger on me! Go crawl back into your little cage and rot there, brat! "
The man shouting looked nothing like a Royal Guard—skinny face, greased pompadour, and a thug's glare. Blade in hand, he yelled at Yoruichi, Urahara, and Yūshirō.
"Just for calling me a brat—I've got every reason to beat you half to death! "
Yūshirō cracked his knuckles, eyes gleaming.
"Wait, Yūshirō! We're here to train—not fight! " Yoruichi yanked his arm.
"You're right, Sis. Training is exactly what we need. And this old man—he's lived over a thousand years—he's ancient. Perfect sparring practice."
Yūshirō nodded sagely… agreeing with every word.
"I meant train me and Urahara! Don't beat him to a pulp! " Yoruichi clamped both hands on Yūshirō's head and rubbed furiously.
"Ow! Ow! I give up! Mercy! " Yūshirō surrendered once again, waving an imaginary white flag.