"So…"
"Now it's Aizen's turn again—and Gin… he's doomed?"
Yoruichi propped her chin on one hand, her tone a little regretful.
After such a shocking backstab heard around the world—
to have it all reversed so quickly felt unsatisfying.
Honestly, as a viewer, she wanted Gin to win.
Kill Aizen in one blow, end the story with a single strike.
To slay a transcendent being—
as a Shinigami—that would have been a feat for the ages.
His Zanpakutō Shinso ranked fifth, and that alone could have been legendary.
"Most likely, yes," Urahara replied, pushing up his hat.
"Look closely—Aizen's reiatsu and condition have already recovered."
Indeed.
Just as Kisuke said, the screen showed Aizen standing tall again.
The gaping wound in his chest had stopped bleeding.
Before their eyes, flesh and skin were closing at visible speed—
regenerating perfectly.
The expression on Aizen's face said it all.
Arrogant violet eyes gleamed coldly,
and a smirk curled on his lips.
His voice rang clear.
"Gin… do you see now? That level of attack—"
"You should know better than to think it could kill me!"
He raised his hand, Kyōka Suigetsu gleaming in his grip.
The gesture looked almost casual—
but to the watching world, it was a death sentence for Gin Ichimaru.
"Gin…"
Matsumoto Rangiku's voice trembled.
Covering her mouth, her golden eyes shimmered with tears.
Even though the earlier flashback had shown her future self dying at Gin's hands,
she couldn't bring herself to believe it.
She knew him too well.
That childhood bond, that fragile trust—they couldn't be fake.
No.
The Gin she knew would never harm her.
He had to have a reason.
And now, after everything revealed—
after his infiltration, his betrayal, and his stunning strike—
Matsumoto's heart clung to one hope:
"Please… succeed, Gin."
If he could kill Aizen,
then no matter what he had done,
he would return to Soul Society not as a traitor—
but as a hero who did what none of them could.
A man who saved them all.
Luckily for her,
the next moments on screen didn't disappoint.
Aizen's arrogance hung heavy in the air—
but Gin only smiled wider.
"Captain Aizen," he said softly.
"I never thought so."
One simple line.
No theatrics, no shouting.
Yet the effect was nuclear.
"Wait—what?"
"He's still hiding something?"
"Don't tell me Shinso's bankai has another ability?!"
"Impossible! He's been lying even about that?!"
The Soul Society trembled again.
Gasps and murmurs filled every hall.
The Captains were speechless.
Every Zanpakutō Bankai was supposed to be a Shinigami's ultimate weapon—
nothing hidden, nothing restrained.
Once revealed, it was everything a soul had.
The last card in a fight to the death.
To still hold back power after releasing Bankai—
was insanity.
But Gin Ichimaru was not normal.
"Captain Aizen…"
"See these small cracks on my blade?"
The camera zoomed in on Shinso.
Three tiny notches glinted under the light—barely visible but deliberate.
At first glance, they looked like battle damage.
Aizen's eyes narrowed slightly, but his smirk remained.
Meanwhile, in the First Division, Yamamoto furrowed his brow.
"A broken Zanpakutō is a weakness," he muttered. "Why flaunt it?"
Shunsui tilted his hat, glancing toward Mayuri.
"So, Captain Kurotsuchi," he said, "care to explain the trick?"
Mayuri chuckled, thin lips curling in mockery.
"Oh, now you ask? Moments ago, you all called me mad."
He adjusted his headgear, voice dripping with amusement.
"My conclusion? The blade isn't damaged."
"It's deliberate. Gin left a fragment inside Aizen's body."
"What?!"
"That's possible?!"
"How could a tiny sliver of steel kill anyone, let alone Aizen!?"
Confusion spread through the Captains' ranks.
A nail-sized fragment couldn't possibly slay a godlike being—
and yet, something in Mayuri's grin said otherwise.
The answer came fast.
"Captain Aizen," Gin said quietly,
"do you remember what I told you about my Zanpakutō's power?"
His white haori fluttered as he stepped forward, blade still gleaming.
The foxlike smile on his face deepened.
"I lied."
Aizen blinked.
"It's not as long or as fast as I claimed," Gin continued.
"But—when it extends and retracts, the blade turns to dust."
"Inside that dust, I hid poison. A venom that dissolves cells completely."
The world froze.
And then—
chaos.
"WHAT?!"
"The blade turns to dust?! That's insane!"
"Poison that melts cells—so anyone pierced by Shinso dies instantly?!"
Across Soul Society, captains, lieutenants, and foot soldiers alike felt a chill.
Even the Quincies watching from afar were speechless.
A single strike.
No second chances.
Once pierced—death was absolute.
Back in the video, Aizen staggered.
He opened his mouth to speak—
but a sudden tremor wracked his chest.
"Gin…" he hissed.
"What have you—"
"Captain Aizen," Gin said softly,
"if you've still got time to talk, you'd better use it wisely."
"But even if you hurry—"
"the dead can't be saved."
He raised a hand in farewell—
the same hand that once reached toward Rangiku under the sunlight.
Now it waved goodbye.
The image froze there,
then resumed in slow motion.
The world erupted.
"He actually killed him?!"
"This is unreal—just one hit?!"
"That's why it's called God-Killing Spear!"
"That Bankai's broken beyond belief!"
From the Seireitei to Hueco Mundo, the cries merged into a roaring chorus.
Even Yamamoto, who had lived over two millennia, slammed his staff on the ground and spoke gravely:
"Now I see."
"So that's why Gin chose such an extreme path."
"With a Bankai like that… he truly had the power to slay Aizen Sōsuke."
His verdict echoed through the room like thunder.
The Captains looked to one another—some pale, some trembling,
and others simply silent in awe.
Among them,
Hitsugaya Tōshirō—the boy who once crossed blades with Gin—
stood frozen.
His lips parted, but no words came out.
The white-haired prodigy finally understood:
the smile he once despised hid a blade that could kill gods.
(End of Chapter)
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