The moment I stepped out of the instructor's office, the clock started ticking.
Fourteen days.
The system helpfully reminded me with a countdown timer hovering in the corner of my vision.
It was annoying… and motivating.
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Day 1–3 — The Book Grind
If there was a single enemy I feared more than a captain…
It was the written exam.
In the corner of the library, I sat surrounded by dusty scrolls and ink-stained manuals on kidō theory, the Soul King's edicts, and spiritual field procedures. Daigo stopped by once, took one look at me, and said:
"Who are you and what have you done with Katsu?"
I didn't answer. I was too busy memorizing the classifications of bakudō up to #30 and the exact spiritual particle composition of the Dangai Precipice World. My S- perception came in handy — it wasn't just for combat. Every detail locked into place in my mind like I was taking mental photographs.
By the end of day three, I could recite the rules of spiritual jurisdiction in my sleep. I hated that fact.
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Day 4–8 — Kidō Crash Course
The instructor pulled some strings and got me private practice slots in the kidō training hall.
Rows of stone targets, their surfaces scarred from years of abuse, lined the walls.
I couldn't rely on brute force alone — the test would expect control.
So I drilled Hadō #4 (Byakurai) until my aim was so precise I could cut a falling leaf in half midair.
Bakudō #9 (Hōrin) took more patience, but I learned to weave its tendrils tight enough to bind a classmate twice my size.
I never unleashed my Shikai here. My aura alone was enough — every time my focus sharpened, the shadows in the corners seemed to stir, reacting to my intent.
One of the other students in the hall glanced at me once… and immediately found somewhere else to train.
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Day 9–12 — Sparring Gauntlet
The instructor didn't go easy on me.
He set up match after match — sometimes against two or three upperclassmen at once.
I was aura farming
Anyway...
When they came at me, I moved like water — stepping into their blind spots, cutting in angles so tight their swings met nothing but air. I let my kage coat my movements in subtle misdirection, warping their perception without a single flash of Shikai release.
By the tenth match, nobody wanted to volunteer.
Even Daigo — who'd been eager at first — groaned when the instructor called his name.
"You fight like you're reading my mind," he muttered afterward.
I just smirked.
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Day 13–14 — Before the Test
The night before the exam, I stood alone on the empty training grounds.
The moon cast deep shadows across the courtyard.
I let my hand rest on the hilt of my Zanpakutō.
Not to release it — not yet.
Just to remind myself it was there… and to feel the quiet pulse of the three abilities waiting in reserve.
Two weeks ago, I agreed to this for the system's rewards.
Now, I wanted to pass because the idea of not moving forward felt wrong.
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[Quest Countdown: 00:00:01]
Tomorrow, I prove it.
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