[Item: Asauchi]
Origin: Derived World — Bleach
Rarity: Fine
Primary Weapon Type: Sword
Durability: 30/30
Sharpness: 11
Resilience: 11
Details: Forged by Ōetsu Nimaiya. When its wielder inscribes their spirit and conviction upon the blade, it evolves into a unique Zanpakutō. Nimaiya calls it "the strongest Zanpakutō with infinite potential for growth."
Weapon Skill (Passive): Resonance
Description: When your soul achieves resonance with the Asauchi, you may learn its true name — awakening your one and only Zanpakutō.
Current Resonance Progress: 0%
Evaluation: It may look ordinary, but it truly holds limitless potential.
Arata sat cross-legged on the bed, withdrawing his gaze from the holographic display that showed the Asauchi's data — an ability granted by the basic contract system of the Endspace.
According to the contract's description, once he cleared this Trial World, he would officially become a "Seeker." That status would grant him access to a personal storage dimension — a pocket space where items could be stored and retrieved at will. Convenient, to say the least.
He had arrived in Seireitei by nightfall. Thanks to Captain Unohana's personal recommendation, he was now registered as a provisional transfer student at the Shin'ō Spiritual Arts Academy.
Provisional — because, technically, it wasn't enrollment season. The Academy's annual intake had already ended, but Unohana's word carried enormous weight within the Thirteen Court Guard Squads. On her authority, the Academy made an exception — provided he could pass the entrance examination arranged specially for him.
Still, from the way the dorm supervisor treated him, it was clear they already considered him an official student.
Arata, however, wasn't quite as confident. He'd read some of the Bleach manga in his previous life, but that didn't mean he knew what the entrance exam involved.
If it turned out to be a test on Kidō — the arcane demon arts he'd never even touched — that would be awkward.
"Room 406…" Arata murmured, stopping in front of the door. After confirming the number plate, he rapped his knuckles lightly against it.
The dormitories at Shin'ō Academy were surprisingly comfortable — two students per room, with private desks and futons. The dorm supervisor had even mentioned that his assigned roommate was "a very good person" — bright, courteous, and always willing to help.
A few seconds later, the door slid open.
Standing there was a young man with short brown hair and gentle brown eyes, framed by black-rimmed glasses. His smile was warm, the kind that radiated harmless sincerity — like sunlight on a quiet afternoon.
Arata froze.
No way.
The first thought that flashed through his mind was pure disbelief.
He scanned the young man's face, the calm demeanor, the subtly oppressive aura that prickled against his "strongman's intuition" — and the pieces clicked together with an almost comical inevitability.
You've got to be kidding me… my roommate is Aizen Sōsuke?
"Hello," the brown-haired youth said pleasantly. "Can I help you?"
Arata quickly collected himself. "Hi — I'm Arata, the new transfer. I've been assigned to this dorm."
"Ah, I see."
The young man smiled faintly, the curve of his lips measured and perfectly polite. "I'm Aizen Sōsuke. Welcome."
He stepped aside and ushered Arata inside, even helping him unpack and make his bed.
The conversation that followed was… surprisingly normal. Almost disarmingly so.
Aizen, at this point in time, was the very picture of a model roommate — gentle, well-mannered, genuinely helpful. He showed Arata where to store his uniform, how to use the dorm's spirit-powered heater, and even explained several Academy rules in detail.
No trace of arrogance, no cryptic schemes, no hollow eyes behind the glasses — just warmth and composure.
No wonder the dorm supervisor had called him "a good kid." Everyone probably loved him.
"By the way, Aizen-senpai — what year are you in?" Arata asked, sitting on the bed once it was neatly arranged.
He'd decided to go with the flow for now. Dangerous or not, Aizen wasn't likely to make any bold moves inside the Academy. His ambition probably hadn't fully ignited yet — and if it had, it was buried beneath that mild, unthreatening facade.
"Just call me Sōsuke," Aizen replied with his usual calm smile. "And I'm not a senpai. I enrolled this year too — same as you."
As he spoke, he handed Arata a cup of steaming red tea he'd just brewed.
"That explains why we were placed in the same room."
Arata accepted it politely — though he discreetly used the Endspace's identification function to make sure it wasn't some kind of Sleeping Draught of Doom — before taking a cautious sip.
He had assumed Aizen was a senior student because of how confidently he'd described the Academy's inner workings. To learn they were both freshmen was… oddly comforting.
They chatted for a while longer before turning in for the night.
But when the lights went out, Arata noticed Aizen didn't lie down.
Instead, he sat cross-legged on the futon, his Zanpakutō resting across his knees, eyes closed in deep concentration — his spiritual pressure subtly resonating with the blade.
So that's how they train, Arata thought. Refining their reiatsu through meditation…
No wonder Aizen was terrifying even by Shinigami standards. He wasn't just gifted — he worked like a machine.
Sensing Arata's gaze, Aizen opened his eyes and gave an apologetic smile.
"Sorry — am I disturbing your rest? I can move to the balcony if you prefer."
Arata shook his head with a faint grin. "Not at all. Who knows, maybe I'll join you one of these days."
He turned away, feigning sleep — though his mind was wide awake.
He'd made it safely to Shin'ō Academy. If tomorrow's entrance test went smoothly, the first stage of his main mission would be complete.
For now, he was safe — which meant it was time to organize his thoughts.
Within his consciousness, Arata summoned the Endspace system menu. He hadn't had the chance to explore it during the day; now was the perfect time.
In addition to basic stats, he discovered several new tabs: Bloodline, Techniques, Skills, and Specializations.
His "Techniques" tab was empty — in his original world, the mystical cultivation arts had long since vanished. What he had learned were merely fighting forms and martial systems.
Some of those, particularly the more esoteric ones, had been automatically categorized as "Skills."
His "Bloodline" tab was also blank. He had never undergone genetic modification or bio-enhancement — he was human, through and through.
What really caught his attention, however, was the Innate Ability section — where he finally learned why he'd been born with such monstrous physical strength.
[Innate Ability: Limiter – First Release]
Rank: S (E–SSS+)
Description: Your body's natural limiter has been partially removed. You possess extraordinary potential for growth. Through rigorous training and combat, you can transcend human physical boundaries and obtain immense power.
Passive Skill – Limit Release: All effects that improve your stats through training or cultivation gain a 1,000% increase in efficiency.
Evaluation: Oh dear… please tell me you're not going to lose your hair someday.
Arata stared blankly at the evaluation text, utterly speechless.
What did a limiter have to do with going bald?