Three days later, Ichirō returned to the Soul Society—beaming with excitement—while his classmates trudged beside him, dejected and downhearted.
Unfortunately, though they had eventually realized their mistake during the soul burial exercise, they took too long to do so. By the time they corrected their approach, the members of the Thirteenth Division had already stepped in to finish the purification.
In truth, the method had been simple: they only needed to use a Kidō spell with minor hypnotic properties to communicate with the boy and persuade him to release his attachment, instead of fulfilling his wish directly. Most soul burials were done this way. Only in rare cases—such as the little girl from before—did Shinigami assist with wish fulfillment.
As a result, their first official Konsō was considered a failure. Neither the instructor nor the Thirteenth Division seemed particularly disappointed, though. After all, no one had expected success from the start. Performing a soul burial wasn't something that could be achieved through strength or skill alone—it required understanding, empathy, and humanity.
Compared to them, Ichirō had achieved tremendous success. He had not only gathered physical data from the Human World but had also managed to spiritually transmute his two crafted guns and bring them back to the Soul Society.
That was a monumental breakthrough.
Alchemy operated on the principles of comprehension, decomposition, and reconstruction. These two spirit-transmuted guns now served as a bridge—a connection between his former world's Gun Alchemy and the Reishi Alchemy he was developing in the Soul Society.
This would accelerate his research progress tremendously. For Ichirō, nothing mattered more than breakthroughs in Reishi Alchemy, because that was the foundation of his power.
The stronger his Reishi Alchemy became, the faster his spiritual pressure would grow, and the easier it would be to master Kidō. If he could advance it to its ultimate form, then in this world built upon reishi, he might one day make the concept of "absolute invulnerability" a reality.
---
After returning to the Soul Society, their instructor took attendance, reminded them of their next lesson time, and dismissed the class.
Ichirō immediately declined all invitations to celebrate and headed straight for his dormitory.
He had to record the data in his mind before anything slipped away. Even though becoming a Shinigami had greatly enhanced his memory, he wasn't infallible. As the old saying went—no memory is better than a written record. Taking notes was the most basic discipline of any alchemist.
At the same time, he planned to try recreating the two reishi-transmuted firearms within the Soul Society and to reorganize his roadmap for the future.
---
That night, after finishing his data records, Ichirō spread a blank sheet of paper on his desk. At the top, he wrote in large characters:
Reishi Alchemy
Beneath it, he wrote several categories: Body Transmutation – Reiatsu – Weaponry.
He paused to think, then added Human Transmutation—only to cross it out after a moment's hesitation.
Now wasn't the time.
Body Transmutation and Human Transmutation were very different things. The former involved altering or reinforcing the physical body—usually for healing or enhancement. It was a legitimate discipline.
But Human Transmutation… was an absolute taboo.
It referred to attempts to resurrect the dead or create life itself—acts that violated the law.
Ichirō knew the basics of it. He could even draw a rudimentary Human Transmutation Circle, though he had never dared to use it.
But this world was different. If his hypothesis was correct, then Human Transmutation might no longer be a forbidden dream, but a genuine possibility.
Still, not yet. He was far from ready to attempt it. So he crossed it out again.
Next, he drew a circle beside "Reiatsu," marking it as an ongoing but secondary research area.
By "Reiatsu," he specifically referred to the development of spiritual food (reishi-based nutrients) that could strengthen Reiryoku directly. That kind of progress would take time, countless trials, and uncertain results. It would have to remain a background project for now.
Then, under "Body Transmutation," he drew a triangle—his symbol for a priority research focus.
Body Transmutation was essential to improving his Hakuda and general endurance. He had already found a promising approach, and within a few days, he could begin formal experiments.
Finally, he circled "Weaponry" several times.
This was his main focus. While firearms weren't particularly powerful in the Soul Society, they represented the crystallization of his previous life's alchemical techniques.
Understanding the structure of spirit-transmuted weapons could dramatically advance his Reishi Alchemy.
After a moment's thought, he added two more categories beside "Reishi Alchemy": Zanpakutō and Kidō.
Under Zanpakutō, he branched out:
Shikai.
Zanjutsu – Zanpakuto Meditation.
He hesitated, then added Alchemy after Zanpakuto Meditation.
In truth, Zanjutsu should have been its own branch, equal to the Zanpakutō itself—but Ichirō was painfully aware of his lack of swordsmanship talent. So he placed it beneath Shikai, treating it as part of his path to understanding his blade's release.
After thinking it over, he crossed out "Zanjutsu" entirely.
Let's be honest, he thought wryly, I don't have the talent for swordsmanship. I'd be lucky to comprehend anything at all.
He left only Zanpakuto Meditation and Alchemy. Zanpakuto Meditation was his daily routine; that much was a given. But the connection with Alchemy intrigued him.
If he could grasp the underlying principles behind a Zanpakutō's power, perhaps he could find a way to achieve Shikai or even Bankai without relying on the blade itself.
In other words—to forsake the weapon's ability and strengthen his raw Reiryoku instead.
That idea had potential.
After all, no one could predict what form their Zanpakutō might take after Shikai. He recalled the Eleventh Division's bald brute from the original timeline—whose sealed blade was a sword, whose Shikai became a spear, and whose Bankai turned into three massive blades.
How was anyone supposed to master three completely different fighting styles from one weapon?
For some Zanpakutō, it might actually be more practical to pursue a path independent of their abilities. Still, if possible, Ichirō hoped his own Zanpakutō would awaken with something overwhelmingly powerful.
Under Kidō, he hesitated before writing three stages:
Study Kidō → Develop Kidō → Innovate Kidō Techniques.
After some thought, he drew a line through "Develop Kidō" and circled "Innovate Kidō Techniques."
Learning Kidō required no explanation—he had only reached #30 so far. The important part lay in refining techniques.
Developing entirely new Kidō spells, he decided, was pointless for now. The existing system already covered everything—from healing and support to offense—with Bakudō (Binding Spells) and Hadō (Way of Destruction) each reaching #99. The catalog was both vast and refined.
There was rarely a need for new spells unless faced with extraordinary circumstances.
What truly deserved research was the technique—the application of Kidō.
For all its power, Kidō suffered in real combat due to lengthy incantations. Even chantless casting didn't entirely solve that limitation.
Ichirō believed his Kidō talent would be best used in mastering and evolving practical casting methods, rather than inventing new spells.
Once he finished writing, Ichirō leaned back and reviewed his notes.
When he was certain his goals were clearly outlined, he snapped his fingers. The paper disintegrated into countless glowing particles of reishi, scattering into the air.
His plan was already burned into his mind. Keeping the notes would only risk leaking information—there was no other reason to let them remain.