Chapter 40: Aizen's Insightful Observation
To explain things properly, we have to go back a few hours earlier.
After following Tokinada out of the cave, Aizen had immediately infiltrated several of the Tsunayashiro Clan's secret archives, locating and quietly confiscating every last record related to the Divine Sword. He then transported the materials back to his secret base for study.
Being the considerate man he was, Aizen even went so far as to replicate the documents using Kyōka Suigetsu's illusions, leaving perfect forgeries behind so Tokinada wouldn't notice the theft and throw another tantrum.
However, as everyone knows, before embarking on his campaign to become the King of Hueco Mundo, Aizen's resources were still limited. His "core team" consisted of exactly two people — and one of them was blind — not exactly the ideal lineup for heavy reading.
So, in his pursuit of knowledge, Aizen dragged a young Ichimaru Gin into grueling overtime, forcing him into the unenviable life of a corporate wage slave.
Yet despite all the effort, their findings were disappointingly meager.
As a result, by the time they arrived at Tokinada's estate, Gin was seething.
So this old bastard made me flip through thousands of useless pages for nothing? Fine. If Tōsen ever decides to massacre your entire family someday, I'll help him pack the knives.
In this awkward alliance of hidden motives, the trio nonetheless shared a temporary common goal — a rare moment of unity born purely from mutual resentment toward Tokinada.
Afterward, they began rummaging through Tokinada's private quarters.
Leather-bound volumes, ledgers, bamboo slips — Aizen carefully examined each one, filtering through the chaos for anything of value.
Breaking into one of the Four Great Noble Clans' estates was no small feat, even for him. These houses symbolized centuries of spiritual authority and political power, and no one could truly say what ancient treasures — or countermeasures — they might possess. For all Aizen knew, some relics here could even counter Kyōka Suigetsu's hypnosis.
From his research, Aizen already knew that the Kuchiki Clan's "Muramasa" project might have been capable of such a feat.
Under normal circumstances, he would never have risked a direct incursion like this. But the sudden emergence of the Divine Sword had ignited his curiosity beyond restraint.
Even so, upon witnessing the state of the Tsunayashiro estate firsthand, even Aizen — the paragon of composure — felt compelled to scoff.
"How disappointing, Tsunayashiro Clan…"
He'd expected danger, wards, and layers of spiritual resistance. Instead, he and his companions had walked right in without a single alarm being triggered.
"Once the masterminds who plotted against the Soul King a million years ago… and now you've fallen this far."
Aizen's smile grew faintly amused.
"It seems I'll need to revise my order of operations for purging the old nobility."
"You, Tsunayashiro… will be the first."
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A few months later — Soul Society, Rukongai's Western 4th District.
Since the Divine Sword Incident, every faction had been busier than ever.
The Tsunayashiro Clan, Central 46, and Gotei 13 were locked in one silent, bureaucratic war after another — battles fought not with blades but with documents, reports, and whispered politics.
You could measure the intensity of it all by the state of Kyōraku Shunsui's workload.
In recent months, the man hadn't even had time to share a casual drink with Mizuma. He was buried in endless paperwork, his once-flamboyant appearance growing scruffier by the day.
Mizuma, on the other hand, had absolutely nothing to do with any of it.
That was the biggest difference between Shunsui and Mizuma.
Both were masters of slacking off, but their philosophies diverged sharply.
Shunsui's laziness was a hobby — he believed in "slacking when possible, working when necessary."
Mizuma's laziness was a lifestyle — his creed was "If I can't slack off, what's the point of living?"
So, strictly speaking… Mizuma was simply better at it.
And now, armed with the official "Do Not Be Active" card Shunsui had personally handed him ("lay low for now"), Mizuma's workload had effectively dropped to zero.
For months, he'd been living the life of a free-floating cloud — fishing, cooking, and sleeping as he pleased.
—That is, his main body in the Seireitei was.
Because Mizuma wasn't just one man.
His second identity, the "Messenger," was busy in the Human World, studying kidō and researching the Divine Sword in a derelict factory — a tireless scholar surrounded by piles of ink-smeared notes.
His third self, Ryugetsu, operated near the Seireitei, quietly gathering intelligence. Rumors of disappearances in Rukongai were spreading fast — clear signs that Aizen's first grand scheme was beginning to stir.
So while one version of Mizuma slacked, the others toiled endlessly. The contradiction gnawed at him, and more than once he dreamed of himself literally splitting into pieces.
"System… give me a multitasking skill already," he muttered one day, reeling in another fish and hearing the familiar "Reiryoku +2" tone in his head. "Being a drama king's getting harder by the day…"
Then—heavy footsteps sounded behind him.
He turned around.
A group of musclebound men in uniform was approaching, led by a white-haired man arguing with a small green-haired woman. Every one of them radiated the aura of professional troublemakers.
The 9th Division, led by Muguruma Kensei—the kind of sight that could make anyone's pulse quicken.
Truth be told, Mizuma never really understood Kensei's aesthetic. The entire division looked like a walking yakuza family photo, and though Mizuma respected them deeply, he preferred to keep a polite distance.
Still, if he had to be honest, he did owe the man.
Back in the Trial Ground, Kensei had fought tooth and nail to protect Mizuma's clone. That loyalty wasn't something he'd forget easily, even if he hadn't actually needed saving.
He was just about to stand and greet them when Kuna Mashiro's bright voice rang out first.
"Hey, Kensei! Isn't that the guy from 8th Division?"
"Oh!"
Following her point, Kensei strode forward in his usual blunt fashion, his booming voice carrying over the water.
"Ain't this Watanabe Fifth Seat? What are you doing here… fishing?"
The man's baffled look said it all: How the hell does anyone have time for this?
Mizuma sighed inwardly.
"Ah, Captain Kensei."
He set down his fishing rod, greeted the squad one by one, and deftly dodged Mashiro's poking fingers.
"So, Captain, what's with the full 9th Division deployment today? Some big operation?"
He forced a laugh.
Please don't let it be what I think it is…
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〔TL〕
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