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"Holy hell!"
"This isn't a dream, right? I actually made a comeback in the future?"
Watching the version of himself on screen, refined yet exuding the aura of a domineering CEO, unmistakably carrying the presence of a Vasto Lorde, Grimmjow clenched his fists in excitement. His eyes even grew a little moist.
Thank the heavens.
The moment he'd been waiting for had finally arrived.
He never imagined his future self would evolve into a Vasto Lorde.
Even seeing it with his own eyes, it still felt unreal, like a dream.
Everyone knew that Menos came in three stages.
Gillian, Adjuchas, and Vasto Lorde.
Setting aside the Gillian that were everywhere, even Adjuchas were rare in Hueco Mundo. Once they completed Arrancarization, they all became Espada without exception.
But for most Menos, Adjuchas was the end of the road.
Ninety-nine percent would never evolve any further in their lifetime.
As for becoming a Vasto Lorde…
That kind of probability.
It was even slimmer than the Arrancar army successfully conquering Soul Society.
So close to zero it might as well have been nonexistent.
Otherwise, across the endless ages of Hueco Mundo, there wouldn't be only four Vasto Lorde still alive.
"Vasto Lorde…"
"Grimmjow actually evolves into a Vasto Lorde in the future? No way!!!" Nnoitra's jealousy flared so hard his voice cracked.
That bastard!
He used to be ranked below me!
And now he overtakes me on a curve in the future?
Why him?!
The more Nnoitra thought about it, the angrier he got. His single eye burned with venom.
All the rage he'd bottled up earlier, especially after watching "himself getting brutally killed by Kenpachi Zaraki," exploded at once.
"So he's already snapped? What a clown," Barragan said from his throne, casting a cold glance downward and letting out a disdainful chuckle at Nnoitra's disgraceful display.
True enough, Grimmjow's evolution was unexpected.
But so what if he became a Vasto Lorde?
In the future, once he got dragged into battles between Shinigami and pure-blood Quincy, that level of power would barely matter.
Barragan, the Skeleton Emperor, had already seen through that point after watching so many rounds of these revelations.
Not far away, the gloom on his face gone, Starrk smiled in genuine sympathy. "Didn't see that coming. Grimmjow really was the most promising of the Adjuchas. I'm happy for him."
The lone wolf didn't think much beyond that.
To him, a companion growing stronger meant being a little less alone, and that was enough.
As for the rest, some stayed silent, some felt envy, and some, like Nnoitra, were practically seeing red. Almost no one was truly happy for Grimmjow.
And just as the Arrancar all harbored their own thoughts, the ranking video quietly shifted to another perspective.
...
This time, the scene showed more than just Grimmjow.
Another fleeing figure appeared as well.
"H-hey… Mr. Arrancar, if I stop running, you won't kill me, right?" Askin Nakk Le Vaar shouted back while fleeing, his curled bangs bouncing in front of his forehead, his tone full of mock pleading.
That alone stirred an uproar.
"What?!"
"Didn't this guy just reach the Royal Palace? By all accounts, he should be one of the strongest Sternritter. So why is he getting chased around by Grimmjow alone?"
Watching Askin, the so-called "Deathdealing," run in such a sorry state, Szayelaporro frowned in confusion.
He couldn't make sense of it.
Was Grimmjow really that strong?
Or was this pure-blood Quincy just that weak?
If it was the latter, then how did he qualify to ascend to the Royal Palace?
None of it added up.
"Um… is it possible he's deliberately acting weak?" one Fracción muttered quietly.
"Huh? Acting weak? That's it!"
Realization hit everyone at once.
They remembered the label that had appeared earlier in the captions.
Playing dumb to bait the enemy.
So that had to be it.
That Quincy only looked like he was running for his life. In reality, he was probably setting up some kind of trap.
"Tch… trying to lure me in? Don't bother." After a brief rush of excitement, Grimmjow regained his confidence, that familiar arrogance curling back onto his face.
Even if Askin really was pretending, turning your back and running in front of the Panther King was pure stupidity.
Grimmjow was certain.
The moment his future self got bored of this chase, he'd tear that clown of a pure-blood Quincy apart like prey.
Sure enough…
That thought had barely crossed his mind when, in the video, future Grimmjow seemed to hear it.
He leaned forward, crouching low like a beast, baring his fangs as he roared,
"Run. Go on, keep running."
"I'll catch you in a second, and then I'll bite every bone in your body to pieces!"
His fingers curled into vicious claws.
With a sudden burst of speed fueled by Vasto Lorde-level power, Grimmjow closed the distance instantly and slashed toward Askin's chest, aiming straight for his heart.
It seemed inevitable.
In just a few seconds, that ridiculous Quincy would have his heart crushed and drop dead on the spot.
Inside Las Noches—
"What the hell? That's it? How boring."
"I was hoping to see what an evolved Grimmjow could really do. Guess not."
"He never showed any real strength from start to finish. Why does that Quincy even deserve to be on the list?"
…
The Arrancar watched coldly.
When they looked at Askin again, it was as if they were staring at a corpse.
Killed by a leopard ripping out his heart.
What a pathetic way to die.
And yet—
"Arrancar…"
Without any warning at all, Askin suddenly stopped running.
He stood there, unmoving.
Just as the claws were about to pierce his chest,
the Deathdealing calmly turned around. He spread his hands in a welcoming gesture and casually flicked out a purple poison sphere.
At the same time, he spoke in a falsely friendly tone,
"That was a long chase. Must've been tiring. As thanks for playing with me, take this little souvenir."
"Idiot!"
"At that speed, who do you think you're going to hit…"
Ignoring the rapidly expanding poison ball in his vision, Grimmjow swung his claws.
With ease, he sliced the sphere in half and nimbly dodged the purple toxins that sprayed out.
But—
Just as he was about to finish the heart-ripping strike,
"Huh?!"
His razor-sharp claws froze in midair.
Grimmjow's pupils shrank, his expression twisting in shock.
Then, his limbs went numb.
His body lost balance, and he collapsed face-first onto the ground.
"What the hell?!"
"I cut the poison ball instantly. So why am I still hit?!" Watching his future self fall helplessly, the triumphant grin on Grimmjow's face shattered.
Before this scene, he'd assumed the whole cat-and-mouse chase was meant to showcase just how powerful he'd become after evolving.
He never imagined…
That after a single exchange, he'd be the one flat on the ground.
The reversal was way too fast.
"Damn it! He really was playing dumb. Grimmjow's in trouble now!"
Watching the purple poison spread across the ground, even those who normally couldn't stand Grimmjow felt a surge of concern.
Just breathing the tainted air was enough to paralyze the limbs.
It wasn't hard to imagine what would happen once that poison reached his body.
Instant death, most likely.
...
Meanwhile, in Silberstadt—
"One move, and he drops a Vasto Lorde-level Arrancar?"
"Askin Nakk Le Vaar… it really feels like your future self is way stronger."
"Looks like there was a reason His Majesty brought you to the Royal Palace…"
Whispers rippled through the ranks.
Because Askin had looked so cowardly at first, most of the Sternritter had assumed he'd be killed on the spot.
Who would've thought—
The situation would flip so suddenly.
Once the roles of hunter and prey reversed,
Askin became the one patiently waiting for the trap to spring.
"Uh… honestly, I don't really get what's going on myself…"
Faced with the admiring looks from all sides, Askin scratched the back of his head awkwardly, clearly unaccustomed to being the center of attention.
To be fair, as for that label, "playing dumb to bait the enemy,"
he personally agreed with it.
The tricks shown in the video were also one of his biggest hobbies right now. As for why the power of his Schrift had been strengthened, though, Askin Nakk Le Vaar had no clue.
"Guess I'm not finishing him off right away?"
He stared at Grimmjow lying in the purple pool of poison, his entire nervous system paralyzed, and thoughtfully rubbed his chin.
Sure enough—
The final moment of the battle froze on the image of Askin walking toward Grimmjow, yet not rushing to deliver a killing blow.
The screen slowly faded to black.
What happened next was anyone's guess.
...
Hueco Mundo, Las Noches.
"Damn it! That cursed video creator! Why didn't they show the ending?! Am I dead or alive already?!"
Grimmjow completely lost it.
He cracked almost instantly.
The big, glorious showdown he'd imagined never happened. Instead, he got taken down by a tiny poison sphere, and even his final fate was left hanging.
If he'd known it would turn out like this,
he would've stayed out of the camera's view from the start.
This was beyond humiliating.
"Hmph…"
Barragan's expression darkened.
Grimmjow's farce only confirmed what he'd already believed.
Just as he thought.
Vasto Lorde weren't worth much at all.
Against Shinigami or pure-blood Quincy, they were nothing more than background characters.
At that moment—
The vanished image reappeared, this time jumping ahead to a different scene.
"Damn it…"
"What did you do to me just now…?"
The first thing shown was still the vast purple poison pool spreading across the ground, along with a motionless figure lying in it.
Orange hair.
Black Shihakushō.
A sharp black blade clenched in his right hand.
When the camera revealed the face of the man flattened into something resembling a rug—
In a small shop on the outskirts of Karakura Town, Isshin Kurosaki's face went deathly pale.
"Urahara Kisuke…"
"Tessai…"
"I—I'm not seeing things, am I? That guy lying in the poison… that's my son. Ichigo?!"
By the time Isshin forced those words out, his entire body was drenched in cold sweat.
No matter how hard he tried, he never imagined—
that his son would appear on screen again, and in such a miserable state.
"…Sigh."
Sensing the anxiety churning inside Isshin, Urahara wanted to comfort him, but the words just wouldn't come.
The shop owner knew all too well—
There isn't a father in the world who can stay calm after watching his son face mortal danger.
Right now,
Isshin's mind had to be completely blank.
No one could stand by and calmly watch their precious child die.
"..."
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