"Got any ideas on how to get in?"
Naraku stared hard at the Kidō barrier in front of them, resisting the urge to just hack at it with his sword.
From what he could sense, this barrier wasn't nearly strong enough to stop him.
"I mean a stealthy method," he clarified.
Aizen gave him a slightly surprised look. "I thought you'd be the type to just cut it open."
The Naraku he knew absolutely would do exactly that.
"I don't want to spook the prey," Naraku grinned.
In his eyes, everything behind this Kidō barrier was potential profit—his lifeline in this dangerous world.
Losing even one "source of income" would hurt.
"I'll give it a try."
Still as conservative as ever in his phrasing, Aizen remained unfailingly modest.
But with his talent, Naraku had complete confidence.
If Aizen couldn't crack this barrier, then Naraku might as well start thinking about writing his will.
Aizen stepped forward and studied the flickering Kidō lights with full focus, occasionally tracing something in the air beside him.
After a short while, he nodded.
"The person who built this barrier is quite creative. They combined Bakudō #37 and Bakudō #39, and also borrowed from the operating principles of Bakudō #73."
"Getting inside without alerting anyone is actually very simple."
"Bakudō #26: Kyokkō."
Aizen waved his hand over the two of them, and a hazy shimmer of Reiatsu covered their bodies.
"I tuned Kyokkō's reishi wavelength and frequency to match the barrier. That way, the barrier will recognize us as the same type of structure."
"Which means we can pass through it without any resistance."
Naraku listened, dumbfounded, then broke into a wide grin.
"As expected of you, Dorae-zen."
Aizen: "…"
What kind of name was that supposed to be? And back at the academy, this idiot had also given him the nickname "Sora-suke."
What exactly was this guy's brain filled with?
Suppressing the faint stir in his Reiatsu, Aizen stepped forward first.
The moment the Kyokkō sheen touched the Kidō barrier, the two reacted to each other like water blending into milk.
Naraku followed right behind him, his own shimmering outline melting into the barrier as well.
What met their eyes inside was a curtain of black hanging from the ceiling, as if it were meant to hide every trace of the darkness behind it.
There were no guards. Clearly, whoever lived here didn't believe anyone could get in without smashing the barrier first.
Naraku reached out and slowly pulled the curtain aside.
And the scene beyond unfolded like a painting of hell, carved deep into both of their minds.
Directly ahead, on something that looked like an operating table, lay a still-warm corpse split wide open, its chest cavity empty, all its organs removed. Thin streams of blood trickled from the torn flesh.
Pooling on the flat floor, they formed a river.
And that was just the tip of the iceberg.
In one corner of the room, heaps of mangled corpses were piled up like a small hill.
Severed limbs were mixed with burst eyeballs, twisted bodies still twitching under the last flickers of nerve activity.
The stench of blood filled their noses, a choking, overwhelming reek.
No one knew how many lives this dissection room had swallowed. Even someone like Naraku, who had walked through literal hell, struggled to stomach the sheer volume of red before him.
At this moment—
There wasn't a hint of a smile left on his face. In its place was a dead stillness, heavy with the tension of an approaching storm.
When humans died in the World of the Living, they became souls; once they reached Soul Society, they gained new bodies made of reishi.
But those perched up high had never seen the souls of Rukongai as the same kind of beings as themselves.
To those deranged aristocrats, everything in Rukongai was just their private property.
They could take whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted.
Lives included.
For some secret purpose, they treated others' lives as expendable test material.
Dismantling limbs, stripping organs—
Even their souls weren't spared.
Most likely, the residents of that vanished village… were all here.
"This is the real face of Soul Society," Aizen said, his voice unnervingly calm, like this was something he'd long since accepted.
"In the outer districts of Rukongai, people will kill each other over a mouthful of filthy water."
"Meanwhile, nobles in Seireitei and the inner districts enjoy luxuries that commoners can't even imagine."
"And even that isn't enough for them."
"For the sake of some ridiculous, hollow 'glory,' or to satisfy their own greed, they've built countless places like this—"
"Hell."
Naraku let out a breath and tightened his grip on the Zanpakutō at his waist.
"For people like this, just killing them outright feels way too cheap. It doesn't do justice to the souls they treated like trash."
"What do you think, Aizen?"
Aizen was silent for a moment. He suddenly realized that compared to Naraku, he was actually being a little soft.
But maybe that was exactly why he could get along with this guy.
Kyokkō still cloaked their silhouettes as Aizen cast Bakudō #58: Kakushitsuijaku again. Threads of reishi shot out, passing over the dissection room, piercing the floor, and disappearing below.
While Aizen tried to work out where the underground entrance might be, Naraku's nose twitched. His eyes lit up.
"Northwest!"
...
...
Second basement level.
In a brightly lit research room, dozens of figures moved back and forth at a frantic pace.
In the exact center of the room lay a massive, grotesque corpse several meters long. Beside it was a pool of blood, and a Zanpakutō stood plunged into it, only the hilt visible above the surface.
A huge incision ran down the corpse's back from neck to spine, almost splitting it in two.
Every so often, someone would slice off a chunk of flesh and toss it into the blood pool.
Next to the corpse, a man stood with arms folded, silently watching the experiment.
If Naraku had been here, he would've noticed that this man looked strikingly similar to the intruder he'd taken down earlier—Araki Makoto.
"Araki-sama, aren't we being a bit too hasty?"
"The disappearance of a whole village has already caught the Gotei 13's attention."
Someone asked in a low, ingratiating tone, a smile plastered on his face.
At that, the man called Araki-sama snapped, clearly irritated.
"Idiot, you think I don't know that?"
"If those useless idiots hadn't been locked up in the Central Prison, we wouldn't have to rush like this. Once things here get out—"
Before he could finish, a violent impact shook the gate above them.
Everyone instantly turned toward the source of the sound.
The solid metal door was blown apart in a single strike.
Amid the drifting dust, scorching flames surged like a tide, sweeping down toward them in an instant!