"Hey, what did you do to me?!"
Saitō Furōfushi pinched her own cheek hard. The distinct sensation of pain made her freeze in place.
The Gigai had been specially modified, allowing the implanted soul to experience the exact same tactile sensations as a physical body.
Just a moment ago, she clearly sensed that her connection to Hell had been completely severed.
The forced restraints and the will previously imposed upon her had entirely vanished.
"..."
'He actually stripped away Hell's authority!'
Feeling a long-lost sense of freedom, Saitō took a deep breath of the Soul Society's air, savoring the beauty of the moment.
For nearly a thousand years, she had endured Hell's torment every single waking moment.
Although she had been granted an immortal state and immense power, the agony inflicted upon her soul was impossible to ignore.
A Soul Reaper with weaker willpower would likely break completely within a few days, losing their sense of self before being reduced to mere nourishment for Hell's growth.
During her years in Hell, she had seen countless deceased souls dissipate this way, leaving not a single trace behind.
Saitō stood there, relishing the tranquility. Unknowingly, her eyes grew red in the midst of this long-absent peace.
Not only was she free from the control of Hell's will, but the pain attached to her soul had also completely disappeared.
Just as she was moved to tears by this realization, a face leaned in at the most inappropriate moment.
"Crying?"
"?!"
Saitō's cheeks flushed red. Gritting her teeth, she threw a punch without a second thought.
*Bang!*
A dull, heavy thud echoed, as if she had struck solid metal.
Naraku Sora, the one who took the hit, was completely fine. Instead, it was Saitō whose face paled as she clearly felt the sharp pain radiating from her knuckles.
'Is this guy really a Soul Reaper?'
Saitō gritted her teeth, glaring fiercely at the man before her. The sliver of gratitude she had just managed to muster vanished without a trace.
"You bastard brat, don't think I'll thank you just because you did this."
Naraku Sora grinned, paying no mind to the stubborn brat's tough talk.
Helping Saitō break free from her restraints was just a casual effort for him; it hardly cost him anything.
At most, it took a single Gigai and a bit of spiritual power.
But in Yamamoto's eyes, Saitō was once one of his subordinates, a comrade he had fought alongside.
Watching a former comrade suffer a fate worse than death was undoubtedly a torment for the old man as well.
Sora considered it a gesture of filial piety toward his teacher.
Seeing Saitō Furōfushi completely freed from the control of Hell's will, expressions of astonishment appeared on the captains' faces.
Even the dead who had fallen into Hell could escape their suffering and walk the Soul Society once more.
Didn't that mean their own predestined fates had already changed at this very moment?
The thought that they wouldn't fall into Hell after death filled everyone with excitement.
"Saitō, let me ask you."
Just as the captains turned their gazes toward Naraku Sora, Yamamoto's deep voice suddenly rang out in the courtyard.
"Are you experiencing any discomfort after breaking free from Hell's control?"
Saitō Furōfushi cast a surprised look at Yamamoto, feeling more and more that the old man in front of her was vastly different from the Yamamoto Shigekuni in her memories.
It wasn't a matter of who was stronger or weaker, but rather that such a drastic shift in personality was truly unexpected.
In her memory, Yamamoto's violent and ruthless nature was unmatched among the original captains.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to suppress the other twelve.
Moreover, when fighting enemies, he showed absolutely no mercy. He was decisive and lethal; very few people ever survived crossing blades with him.
It was precisely because of this that he earned the moniker "Demon of the Sword."
Looking at him now, he seemed like an ordinary old man from the neighborhood, completely unremarkable. In terms of sheer aura, he even felt inferior to Kuchiki Ginrei.
Could it be because of his old age?
The corners of Saitō's mouth curled up into a smile.
"Of course not. I feel perfectly fine right now."
"However, if you think you can oppose Hell with just these parlor tricks, you're being far too naive."
"Considering this kid helped me sever my restraints, I'll be merciful and reveal a little bit of information to you all."
"Just so that when the day of disaster truly arrives, you Soul Reapers won't be left completely powerless to resist."
Yamamoto's expression remained calm, as if he had anticipated Saitō's attitude all along.
Through her explanation, the captains gained a fundamental understanding of the entity known as Hell.
Its structure was similar to the Shino Prison—or rather, the underground prison's construction was originally modeled after Hell.
From top to bottom, there were eight levels in total.
They were the Hell of Reviving, Black Thread, Crushing, Screaming, Great Screaming, Scorching, Great Scorching, and finally, Muken.
Any deceased soul that fell into Hell would be assigned to a different zone based on their strength and sins, enduring torture that far exceeded their physiological limits.
Because they were immortal, every time their bodies were pulverized, they would be reborn in Muken to repeat the same torment until their minds completely broke.
At that point, the Togabito would become nourishment for Hell.
It wasn't just deceased individuals with Third-Class Spiritual Power or higher who fell into Hell. Those with grievous sins across the three realms would also be captured by the Gates of Hell, forcefully dragged into the underworld the moment they died.
Therefore, the number of Togabito in Hell was astronomically large.
It was so massive that it defied imagination. If Hell were to completely lose control, the resulting disaster would be apocalyptic.
No one would be able to stop it, not even Yamamoto Shigekuni.
Fortunately, perhaps due to the restrictions of its rules, or perhaps because the Soul Society itself rejected Hell, Hell was unable to release all of its Togabito at once.
The number of Togabito released each time had to be kept within a certain limit.
But even so, the current strength of the Gotei 13 was nowhere near enough to contend with them.
Hearing this, the expressions on everyone's faces dimmed.
According to Saitō's words, it seemed that handing over Naraku Sora was the only way to stop this disaster.
But offering up the Seireitei's greatest contributor as a sacrificial lamb went against their moral principles.
Furthermore, there was no shortage of stubborn individuals among the captains, such as Shihōin Yoruichi and Unohana Retsu.
They would absolutely never abandon Naraku Sora.
Just as everyone was agonizing over this, Saitō suddenly looked at Yamamoto and grinned.
"Lord Genryūsai, what are your thoughts? Will you hand this kid over, or will you put up a futile resistance and fight to the bitter end?"
Hearing this, almost everyone's eyes instantly focused on Yamamoto.
Faced with this old man who had protected the Soul Society for thousands of years, the crowd held the utmost respect.
Right now, only Yamamoto had enough prestige to make the others follow his lead.
Yamamoto slowly opened his half-closed eyes. A sliver of scorching fire flashed through his pupils as his calm, unwavering voice rang out.
"I thought that after following me through that battle, you would have understood a few truths. But looking at it now, it seems I overestimated you."
"Back when Yhwach launched his war, he also threatened to destroy the Soul Society in an attempt to make me submit to him."
"You should know exactly what the Seireitei looked like when facing the united Empire of Light. As Soul Reapers, we had almost no power to resist an enemy like that."
"Once a full-scale war broke out, the only thing awaiting the Seireitei was total annihilation."
"The situation right now is exactly the same as it was back then."
"So, Saitō, please answer me. What was my choice back then?"
Saitō's eyes widened as she loudly retorted, "This is different!"
"When facing Yhwach, we could still see a glimmer of hope for victory, but now..."
Yamamoto glanced at her.
"Hope? Perhaps."
"But the actual predicament is the same. Asking me to sacrifice my disciple in exchange for the Soul Society's peace—that is something I cannot do."
"A thousand years ago, I did not compromise with Yhwach, and a thousand years later, the same holds true."
"If Hell wishes to destroy us, then let it come."
"At worst, we will sink the Soul Society."
Hearing this, the corners of Naraku Sora's mouth curled up into a satisfied smile.
His usual respect and devotion to his master hadn't been in vain. Whenever something good happened, he always thought of his old man first.
After all, when push came to shove, his teacher really had his back.
Saitō froze for a few seconds, clearly taken aback, but she quickly recovered and flashed a bloodthirsty smile.
He looked different, but deep down, he was exactly the same.
Yamamoto Shigekuni was still the unthreatened Demon of the Sword.
He would never choose to compromise just to cling to a moment of temporary peace.
"Honestly..."
She shook her head and continued, "Since that's the case, I'll reveal a bit more information."
"Actually, long before the three realms were separated—in what you call the primordial world—Hell already existed."
"Initially, the three realms and Hell were in balance. But as more and more powerful individuals fell into Hell, that original balance underwent a subtle shift."
"In other words, even if you handed this kid over and temporarily quelled this disaster..."
"As time passes, that balance will eventually collapse completely."
"When that time comes, a new disaster will descend."
"Whether the three realms will merge into Hell, or Hell will swallow the three realms, is unknown."
"After all, I'm just a dead person."
As her words fell, the courtyard plunged into a dead silence, the atmosphere growing increasingly heavy.
So, no matter what choice they made, an apocalyptic ending was unavoidable?
Just as everyone's spirits were at their lowest, a loud voice suddenly shattered the silence.
"I say, everyone—"
"Who made the rule that we are guaranteed to lose?"
"Use your brains and think about it. What kind of trash is locked up in Hell? Looking back at the Soul Society's history over the past tens of thousands of years, is there any Soul Reaper stronger than my teacher?"
"As for those from tens of thousands of years ago, could they even survive Hell's torture?"
"The way I see it, they're nothing but a bunch of useless rabble!"
Beside him, Saitō's face darkened. She wanted to retort, but she didn't know what to say.
After all, she was the first—and possibly the only—Togabito to be captured and dragged back from Hell by an intruder.
Next to her, Naraku Sora was still giving his impassioned speech, going from 'I don't understand why you're so pessimistic' to 'we are full of vibrant vitality, ready to conquer all'.
Setting everything else aside, this unyielding spirit was indeed something everyone could learn from.
For a moment, hot-blooded individuals like Captain Muguruma couldn't help but be infected by this attitude, their fighting spirit reigniting with soaring morale.
Naraku Sora straightened his back, his aura surging as he declared:
"No matter how you look at it, in this battle of the living against the dead, the advantage is ours!"