"Holy crap!!!"
"Aizen… was completely dismembered?!"
"That's insane—way too brutal!!!"
"At that time, he was a true transcendent being!!!"
"Gin Ichimaru and his Zanpakutō Shinsō—so powerful, so twisted! It's terrifying!!!"
In that instant, as the image of Aizen fused with the Hōgyoku appeared—his mutilated corpse on full display—the world of the Shinigami trembled once again.
At this point, regardless of race or faction, every strong being was shaken.
That was a transcendent existence—one who had surpassed both Shinigami and Hollow, an almost immortal being!
Yet in front of Gin Ichimaru, he was no different from livestock being slaughtered.
The entire process was simple and direct—clean, decisive, merciless.
After all—Gin had meant what he said.
He promised to stab once.
And he did—one stab! Straight through the heart! A brutal, surgical kill!
And in front of the whole world—
he put on an 18+ performance of pure carnage.
Honestly, watching that blood spray across the screen, seeing Aizen's mangled body barely recognizable—
everyone fell silent.
In the outskirts of Karakura Town, within the Hōgyoku Fortress Valley—
even the loudest members of the Visored Corps were frozen in place like statues.
Some gasped.
Some stood pale and speechless.
Hiyori Sarugaki, overwhelmed by blood, fainted on the spot—her frail body in alien-style armor collapsing, completely overcome by the gory scene.
"Haa…"
Hirako Shinji swallowed hard.
As the leader of the Visored Corps—and Aizen's former superior—
he couldn't help but feel utterly insignificant before that screen.
Even after seeing Aizen, a transcendent being, torn apart, Gin still smiled with his eyes half-closed, completely unfazed.
Compared to him, Shinji thought, he and his companions were like children.
For a century they had shouted about revenge—
"To make Aizen pay for that night!"
But after all those years of vows and fury—
none of them had accomplished anything.
And then Gin came along—stabbed once—and it was done.
What shook Shinji even more was that the Aizen Gin killed wasn't the same one they'd fought before—
it was the evolved Hōgyoku Aizen!
The Visoreds hadn't even managed to lay a finger on Aizen in his Shinigami form,
and yet Gin single-handedly finished the job.
Compared to him, they all looked like trash.
"...Sigh."
Shinji exhaled and finally accepted it—
Gin Ichimaru and Shinsō fully deserved their high ranking.
He had to admit, in front of that smiling man—
even all of the Visored captains together weren't worth one Gin Ichimaru.
To be blunt—they weren't even qualified to polish his shoes.
Meanwhile—
Clap, clap, clap...
Applause rang out inside Urahara's shop.
Hat removed, Kisuke Urahara clapped enthusiastically, eyes gleaming.
Beside him, Yoruichi and Tessai were both staring at the screen in shock and satisfaction.
The sight of Aizen being violently torn apart was cathartic—nothing could have been more satisfying.
"Heh…"
Urahara chuckled under his messy blond hair. "Gin Ichimaru… he's a superman."
"To solo a transcendent—that's no joke. Even the Royal Guard would give him full security clearance and an invitation to the Soul King Palace."
"Otherwise, with the spirit power flowing through their bodies, even they might get torn apart by Shinsō in one strike!"
It was half a joke, but Urahara's expression was serious.
After watching the video, Gin Ichimaru's status in his mind skyrocketed.
So did Shinsō's.
No need to even argue about its cutting power—
in his view, it could rival the Head Captain's Ryūjin Jakka.
The sheer despair that weapon inspired was on the same level.
That toxin—able to dissolve cells in an instant—
gave Urahara the same kind of fear he'd once felt when he first created the Hōgyoku:
the fear of an unknown power.
"Yeah…"
Yoruichi took a deep breath, grabbing her teacup and draining it before she spoke.
"I heard that the Royal Guard's Ōetsu Nimaiya can kill with a single swing…"
"But now that I've seen this, Gin Ichimaru's Shinsō is no different!"
"No wonder he could easily kill Hōgyoku Aizen!"
Though Yoruichi herself was one of the most balanced, powerful combatants in history,
her tone carried real respect—perhaps even awe.
Her entire perception had shifted.
After this scene, she subconsciously began to rank Gin Ichimaru alongside Aizen himself—
a top-tier, T-0 level existence in both strength and danger.
Just then, Tessai—who had been silent since the start—finally spoke.
His eyes glinted sharply as he turned toward the screen.
"By the way, Urahara…"
"This video is globally broadcast, right?"
Urahara's pupils shrank; he immediately understood.
"You mean…"
Tessai nodded. "If we can see it, then so can Soul Society… and Hueco Mundo."
"No matter where Aizen and his group are hiding right now, they're watching this too."
"And after this scene… Aizen and Gin are definitely turning on each other."
And indeed—Tessai was right.
At that same moment, inside Las Noches in Hueco Mundo—
Reality synchronized with the future.
From the instant "Future Gin" appeared in the video and stabbed Aizen's arm—
the real Gin Ichimaru, who had been waiting in the shadows all along, finally moved.
While the Espada and Arrancar were still in chaos,
staring at the broadcast in disbelief,
Gin struck.
Within the vast, silent halls of Las Noches,
the air grew cold and heavy.
Not a sound.
Only Gin's calm, almost mocking voice echoed through the dark:
"Ah… Captain Aizen, I'm so sorry."
"I was planning to wait—go through the battle with the Gotei 13 first, and then kill you at the end."
"But since this broadcast spoiled the surprise… I guess I'll have to move ahead of schedule."
Below the throne, Gin lifted his head.
Like a fox that had just finished its meal, he smiled faintly, eyes narrowed to slits—
looking up at the man pinned before him.
Yes—just as Tessai predicted.
Reality had caught up to the video.
Gin had really done it.
Moments ago, he'd raised his Zanpakutō Shinsō, the blade disintegrating and extending like lightning—
piercing straight through the throne, through Aizen's chest,
and leaving a hole that gushed with blood.
Now Aizen sat wounded, clutching his chest, blood soaking his robes.
His lines were almost word-for-word the same as in the broadcast—
his disbelief identical.
And that perfect mirroring of the video's events
shocked everyone in the chamber.
Every Arrancar, every Hollow present—
their eyes trembled, their minds blanked,
their entire worldview shattered.
So the video… was real.
Gin Ichimaru had truly turned on Aizen—
and in reality, his attack was even crueler than what they saw in the footage.
He didn't hesitate.
He struck to kill.
The centuries-long schemes of Aizen Sōsuke—
ended in one strike.
Up on the high balcony, Grimmjow stood frozen.
He had always been the one who hated Aizen the most among the Espada.
You'd think he'd be thrilled.
But watching Gin actually kill the man—
even Grimmjow felt his blood run cold.
For all his battles, for all the lives he'd taken,
he had never seen something so real, so final.
Hands in pockets, he stood motionless,
expression twisted between awe and disbelief.
He couldn't help but think—
was this all an illusion?
After all, Kyōka Suigetsu's hypnosis was absolute.
Every Espada had experienced it firsthand during their initiation.
But no—this wasn't an illusion.
This was reality.
And reality was crueler than any illusion Aizen had ever cast.
(End of Chapter)
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