"Rumble…"
Shunsui's body smashed back into the ruins and slid down a boulder. He forced a wry smile.
"Shutara, you can't really blame me for that, right?"
He dusted off his haori and stood, sounding helpless.
"I told you—my zanpakuto is troublesome. I had to explain Katen Kyokotsu's powers. You're the one who wouldn't listen!"
Shutara's face darkened. Almost getting killed was the small part. She could revive endlessly in the Royal Palace, after all.
But—humiliation.
She was Zero Division. She'd lived for thousands of years; old man Yamamoto was a toddler compared to her. And yet she'd almost died… to the bankai of a kid's… kid. If this got back to the Royal Guard, those bastards would laugh at her for centuries—no, millennia.
Grinding her silver teeth, Shutara glared at Shunsui.
"Well, well. The lazy little brat from a few centuries ago… and in just a few hundred years, you've reached this level."
Around them, captains broke into cold sweats. Truly the King's special-operations corps—she tossed off "a few hundred years" like it was nothing. Were they all immortal?
Shunsui could only grimace and hold his tongue; her mood was obviously foul.
Cole, though, didn't care. Eyes bright with interest, he stared at the golden reiatsu sphere still swelling at Shutara's throat.
"Hey, Zero Division—aren't you worried that thing's gonna blow?"
He still didn't know what the final act of Shunsui's bankai did. After leaving a wound on Shutara's neck, her reiatsu had been gushing out like mad, condensing into a golden sphere that grew more and more terrifying. If it detonated…
"The blast'll take a few minutes yet," Shutara said, unfazed.
The instant the reiatsu began to spill she'd understood it: vent her reiatsu, compress it into a sphere, then detonate—taking her neck and head with it. The problem was simply that she had too much reiatsu. Even at this drainage rate, it would take minutes to empty out.
"Hah… your reiatsu really is monstrous. Must be… what, a few hundred—maybe a few thousand 'cars'?" Cole clicked his tongue.
He'd always thought Bleach power scaling was busted. Early on the combat strength hovered in the tens and hundreds; later, when the Royal Guard stepped in, it shot into the millions—two different worlds. And the abilities… early on they were mostly offensive; later it was every kind of rules-type hax under the sun. If your "cheat" wasn't big enough, you didn't even get a seat at the table. Biggest cheater of them all: Kurosaki Ichigo.
"A few hundred… thousand… 'cars'?" Shutara blinked. She knew what a car was. Since when was reiatsu measured by the truckload?
Cole sighed and explained.
"In the World of the Living there's a captain named Muguruma Kensei. Not that strong, but everyone uses him as a unit of measure—'cars'—to rate how strong people are."
"Ah." Shutara's eyes curved with a faintly mocking smile. "That actually is an intuitive metric for gauging Soul Reapers."
"Careful, Cole," Rukia muttered. "If Captain Muguruma hears that, he'll come kill you."
The man had hidden in Karakura for a hundred years and somehow became a unit of measure—now even the Royal Guard had heard of it. If he ever returned to Seireitei and learned of his 'fame,' he'd pop a vein.
"A few hundred—maybe a few thousand cars…" Shunsui stroked his chin and wandered over. "Then how many cars am I?"
Cole thought it over. "If we're just comparing reiatsu levels, you're about a hundred-plus cars."
Strength wasn't only reiatsu, of course. With a bugged bankai like Katen Kyokotsu: Karamatsu Shinju (Black Pine Deep Affection), Shunsui could kill well above his weight. But as a quick metric, it worked.
Soi Fong perked up. "What about me—how many cars?"
Cole glanced at her. "About… three and a half."
Soi Fong's eyes flew wide. "Are you kidding me? I'm the 2nd Division Captain! Am I really that low?"
If he'd said twenty she'd have swallowed it. But three and a half!?
Shunsui coughed. "Captain Soi Fong, I am a few centuries your senior. Having a bit more reiatsu is… natural."
Maybe he'd been too low-key; the juniors were getting cheeky.
"What about me?" Kenpachi leaned forward, eager.
"You…" Cole rubbed his chin. "In pure reiatsu, around twelve cars."
"Only twelve?" Kenpachi's gaze slid to Shunsui, fighting intent sparking. He really wanted to try the hundred-car man.
Kotsubaki cleared his throat. "And this old man?"
"You?" Cole shot him a strange look. "About… zero point eight."
Kotsubaki froze, then scowled. "I don't even get a whole number?"
Everyone else had "hundreds," "dozens," and he got 0.8? Racism against werewolves?
"Hey now," Cole said dryly. "Muguruma Kensei was still a 9th Division Captain. You can't treat him like some stray mutt."
Kotsubaki coughed again, embarrassed. The other captains also looked awkward. Maybe they hadn't been giving Kensei his due.
Karakura Town, inside a warded warehouse—Muguruma Kensei sneezed violently. He looked around at his companions, baffled.
"Why do I feel like somebody is bad-mouthing me…?"
First Division.
Amid the chatter, Shutara's six golden skeletal arms moved. Somehow, she took the golden sphere from her neck without triggering the blast. Then one of the arms pinched her needle-fine blade; a wash of gold flashed, and the cut at her throat stitched closed without a trace.
Shunsui finally exhaled. "Good thing it didn't blow. But that's only because you were out of my bankai's area. Inside Katen Kyokotsu: Karamatsu Shinju, if Flower-Heaven and Crazy-Bone will it, the sphere explodes."
Shutara tilted her head at Cole and smiled.
"I owe this boy. If he hadn't fished me out, I really might have died by this bastard's hand."
Cole didn't preen. He turned his grin on the manifested zanpakuto.
"Now you see, right? Don't look down on Seireitei's Soul Reapers—or zanpakuto. Call the rest of your friends out here."
He was curious about the other Royal Guard. In the original story, most never fought. And by the data he had, none of the remaining ones were weak; some had been alive for millions—even tens of millions—of years. Life as long as heaven and earth. With that much time, even passive reiatsu accumulation would be apocalyptic. Their bankai had to be ridiculous.
Shutara shook her head and narrowed her eyes at the manifested blades.
"I've seen through Shunsui's ability. I won't fall for it again. As for the rest of you zanpakuto… even together, you can't beat me."
Cold light flashed in the eyes of the manifested spirits.
Senbonzakura, stern as a samurai, said icily, "Arrogant. You were nearly slain by Katen Kyokotsu. You think I can't kill you?"
A storm of pink petals roiled at his back, ready to sweep all to nothing.
The others flared their powers. Ice thickened in the air as Hyorinmaru crowned the sky; the heavens themselves seemed to heed its call.
At the breaking point—
The unsealed Sōkyoku (Twin Punisher) burst into a blazing phoenix and swept upward with a piercing cry. Reiatsu like fire exploded outward.
Cole stared. "That thing is this strong? Captain Ukitake?"
In his memory, the fiery bird looked flashy and claimed the might of a million zanpakuto… but it was stopped by a single swing from Kurosaki Ichigo.
Ukitake coughed weakly and smiled. "Cole-kun, it's a shinki—an artifact. Power like this is only natural."
The reason Sōkyoku could execute captains was its terrifying, compounding power. Every blocked strike strengthened the next, until the target was annihilated. The only known counter was the Shihōin clan's artifact that seals all—Tenfūrin (Heaven-Sealing Armory).
Cole's curiosity spiked.
"Artifacts, artifacts—again with artifacts. What the hell are they? Who made them?"
In this world, shinki had all kinds of impossible powers. The four great clans' heirlooms were even said to "destroy heaven and earth." If artifacts were that strong, why even use zanpakuto? Why not just swing artifacts?
Ukitake explained, "Shinki appear only by miracle. Many are forged by Soul Reapers—others are birthed by the world itself."
"Birthed… by the world?"
"Yes." Ukitake nodded. "Cole-kun, you've crossed the Dangai twice now. You must have seen the Kōtotsu."
Cole nodded. The 'cleaner' of the Dangai—the embodiment of that corridor's laws.
"Some shinki are like the Kōtotsu," Ukitake continued gently. "They're congealed from world-rules themselves. That's why their power is overwhelming."
"Damn—so, congenital treasures," Cole muttered.
Ukitake blinked. "Congenital… what?"
"Nothing." Cole waved it off and turned to Nanao with shining eyes. He jogged up eagerly.
"Miss Nanao, can I take a look at your artifact? Promise I'll just play with it a bit—won't break it."
Nanao yelped and hugged the bundle to her chest.
"No! The Shichikyōken (Seven-Mirror Sword) is the Ise clan's hereditary shinki. Only our bloodline can use it. Others can't."
"It's fine. I just want to look."
Cole's interest only grew. He wanted to see whether this so-called artifact could really outshine the old man's Ryūjin Jakka.
Nanao looked plaintively at Shunsui, begging her actual uncle to rescue her.
Shunsui obliged with a cough.
"Cole-kun, that shinki's dangerous. They say any man who touches it dies. The Ise women are… mostly widows."
Cole's eyes lit up.
"Even better. So it hates men?"
Under Cole's insistence, Nanao reluctantly unwrapped the white cloth and passed the artifact over—still pouting.
"B-be careful. Don't break my family's shinki."
Unlike the Shihōin clan's Tenfūrin, which was an arsenal, the Ise clan had only one heirloom—this Shichikyōken. Priestesses—keepers of rites—guarded the "Divine Sword, Hachikyōken"… no, in their line it was the Seven-Mirror Sword. If they lost or ruined it, they'd end up sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with the ruined Shiba clan.
"I got it. Relax."
Cole took the bandaged weapon. As the white wrappings came away, multicolored light burst out. What lay within looked like a one-shaku ruler—both sides set with four crystal prisms; a sword tassel tied at guard and pommel. It glittered gold and flashed silver—a breathtaking ceremonial blade.
(End of Chapter)
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