What they called a "spirit body" was a form of existence born from condensed reishi— the very foundation that both Shinigami and ordinary souls relied on to live in Soul Society and beyond.
Corresponding to it in the World of the Living was the physical body.
Reishi and physical matter could be converted into each other, so in a sense, there was no real difference in "rank" between the two.
All of this was basic knowledge—stuff they'd covered back at the Spiritual Arts Academy.
Naraku carefully focused on every inch of flesh and bone in his body. At some point, his crimson Reiatsu had begun to leak out, forming a thin mist around him.
"Hah—"
Tremendous power surged like a river through his limbs and bones. The process of strengthening his spirit body was taking much longer than he'd expected.
Naraku's head snapped up, eyes glowing red. Wisps of white steam coiled with his Reiatsu, his heavy breaths like the bellows of a forge.
The scorching heat of Blazing Hell flooded into his lungs; the dry, burning air seared at him from the inside.
But as his spirit body visibly reinforced itself, that temperature no longer had any effect on him at all.
Muscle fibers frantically reorganized. His Reiatsu boiled like the very furnaces of Hell around him.
He still didn't fully understand how it worked, but he had gotten stronger—that was undeniable.
If he'd been "steel" before, then now he'd been smelted and hammered a thousand times, undergoing a complete metamorphosis.
The process was painful, yes—but to him, it was just fuel for growth.
Compared to the years of slow grinding at the Academy, his current pace could only be described as "skyrocketing."
Naraku spread his arms wide, reveling in the surging strength coursing through his body.
It was a power completely different from Reiatsu.
The gloom pressing on his heart scattered along with this newfound strength.
Yes, Soul Society was full of darkness and sin; you could even say the whole world was built on original sin.
Everywhere you looked, there was rot.
This kind of world had existed for a million years.
Was it really going to keep going like this?
No. Since I've come here, I should at least leave something behind in this world.
Whatever the outcome.
Naraku's gaze grew sharp, his fighting spirit reignited. He turned and tossed the remaining criminals into their cells.
The road ahead would be rough, the whole world an enemy.
In that case—
Justice, buffed!
[Your understanding of Hakuda has improved. Current level: LV29!]
[Your understanding of Hadō has improved. You have learned Hadō #63: Raikōhō!]
[Your Shunpo has improved. Current level: LV25!]
[Your understanding of Zanjutsu has improved. Current level: LV27!]
...
Even though Aizen hadn't interfered in any of these arrests, giving Naraku a full 100% contribution every time, the sinners' sin values were relatively low.
And their strength was mediocre.
All of them together still didn't match the gains from just one Araki Shūto.
Still, it was exactly as Naraku had expected: personally hunting down criminals was far more efficient than sitting in the Central Prison waiting for people to be sentenced.
The Gotei 13's efficiency wasn't great to begin with—there were only so many squad members.
On top of that, almost everything got tangled up in noble politics, leaving the Gotei 13 like "a dog trying to bite a hedgehog"—no easy way to sink their teeth in.
Normally, arresting nobles required prior approval from the Central 46.
What Naraku had done—swing first, report later—already technically violated Soul Society's laws.
But as long as he insisted he hadn't known Araki Shūto was a noble and clung tightly to Shutara Senjumaru's thigh, the Central 46 probably wouldn't punish him directly.
...
First Division barracks.
"Head-Captain, sir—latest report from Rukongai."
The ever-meticulous Sasakibe Chōjirō respectfully placed a document on the table in the center of the room, then stood to the side, silently waiting.
"Rukongai?" The bald old man frowned. "Is this about that village that vanished in the Sabitsura district?"
Sasakibe nodded, face grave. "It involves nobles, and due to the involvement of certain individuals, the situation has become even more complicated."
"Those people again."
Yamamoto Shigekuni's expression darkened as he picked up the document and opened it.
The room fell silent.
As time passed, a heavy pressure began to spread. Thin waves of heat rose, like a dormant volcano slowly waking.
"Head-Captain!"
Sasakibe wiped the sweat from his forehead and raised his voice.
Yamamoto's gaze lifted. He gave him a long look and spoke in a deep voice:
"Chōjirō, I need a detailed report."
"On the Araki family?" Sasakibe bowed his head. "I've already ordered an investigation."
Yamamoto shook his head slightly and tapped a line on the report.
"No. On this boy."
Sasakibe blinked, glanced at the document, and saw the line:
"Central Prison Tenth Seat Jailer Naraku Sora—defeated Araki Shūto head-on and crushed his scheme…"
...
Seireitei, Noble District.
A sprawling, ancient estate, grand and imposing, sat quietly like some massive beast.
Deep within the compound, in a tall inner building, several figures had gathered.
This was the high noble Araki estate, and everyone present was a top decision-maker of the family.
"A mere Shinigami from the Central Prison dared lay a hand on a member of the Araki family?!"
"Don't just look at the surface. It can't possibly be that simple."
"It's definitely a plot by another faction—or more likely, that Warden from the Central Prison!"
No sooner had they sat down than angry voices rang through the room.
Their expressions were as sour as if they'd swallowed flies. The loss this time was enormous—so large that even the wealthy Araki clan was struggling to stomach it.
"This matter is top secret. Only the few of us here know the full story,"
the old man seated at the head of the room said slowly.
"With only two seated-officer-level Shinigami, there's no way they could have found Elysium House—much less infiltrated that underground chamber without tripping the Kidō barrier."
"And coming from Rukongai, they definitely wouldn't have the guts to strike at a noble."
"So the odds are very high that Shutara Senjumaru had a hand in this."
When their suspicions were confirmed, shock flashed across the others' faces.
"But regardless, we are currently at a severe disadvantage. That useless Araki Shūto can't be salvaged, but we absolutely cannot allow the Araki family to decline."
The old man's low voice echoed through the hall, his gaze sharp as a blade.
"Before we save the clan, we must wash away this disgrace."
"If Shutara Senjumaru dares move against us, then she must pay the price."
"We'll start… with that damned jailer."