Squad 1.
In the quiet courtyard, the sound of water babbled softly. The bamboo tube of the shishi-odoshi filled with water and struck against the stone, echoing with a low, rhythmic thud.
A gentle breeze blew, and the bamboo leaves danced lightly.
The old man standing in front of the pond scattered fish food, causing the fish to surge and fight for the meal. The sight of vibrant red and white scales swarming together was truly pleasing to the eye.
Yamamoto enjoyed his belated vacation, quietly waiting for the fragrance of the tea to waft over.
Feeling the beauty of the moment, a smile slowly bloomed on his old face.
Ever since the Hell rebellion ended, the Soul Society had been at peace for a long time. There were no disgusting nobles to disturb the peace, nor were there any Menos Grande or ronin samurai stirring up trouble in the Rukongai.
The only thing worth paying attention to was whether the few first-generation captains would stay or leave.
Shihōin Chika, Ōtogawa Furūki, and Zenjōji Uhin had expressed their weariness with their current lives and desired to start a new journey.
After chatting with his three old friends, he simply let Naraku Sora send them into the cycle of reincarnation.
There was nothing really to be sad about.
Over the years, he had sent off countless subordinates; he was already used to it.
Rather than dwelling on these things, it was better to enjoy the peace and quiet before him.
How long had it been since he had truly calmed his mind?
Just as he picked up the teapot and prepared to pour the tea, a voice that made his blood pressure spike suddenly barged into the courtyard.
"Teacher! Head Captain! Old Man Yama!"
The deafening shout echoed through the barracks. Sasakibe Chōjirō, who was watering the flowers, twitched his eyes fiercely, nearly pouring all the water into a single flowerpot.
Yamamoto subconsciously reached for Ryūjin Jakka, which was placed under the tea stove, but after thinking for a few seconds, he retracted his hand.
He decided not to bicker with Naraku Sora today.
Whether it was the Hell rebellion, discovering the shortcomings of the Gotei 13 captains, or liberating the first-generation captains, they were all considered incredible merits.
Thinking about it carefully, in terms of merit alone, this brat had already surpassed ninety-nine percent of the Soul Reapers.
"Teacher!"
Naraku Sora barged into the barracks' courtyard, appearing by the pond with a Flash Step, and sat up straight in the seat Yamamoto had prepared for him.
"Hmph."
Yamamoto grunted, his face expressionless, showing no intention of paying attention to Naraku Sora.
Even though this guy had made great contributions to the Soul Society, he absolutely could not be praised at this time. Otherwise, his ego would soar straight into the heavens.
Naraku Sora did not mind and just started talking to himself about the wondrous uses of his world-shocking wisdom.
From the Rinne Tensei to the Artificial Soul technology, and then to helping Saitō Furōfushi and Katori Batsu'unsai reverse back to their living states.
At first, Yamamoto did not care much, just minding his own business and feeding the fish.
However, when he heard that the Rinne Tensei Kidō was successful, his breath hitched.
"Hm?!"
Yamamoto fell silent for a few seconds, then suddenly turned his head, staring at Naraku Sora with wide eyes.
"Brat, what did you just say?!"
"They want to join Shino..."
"You resurrected Saitō and Katori?!"
"Didn't you hear me clearly? Why did you have to ask again?"
"You bastard!"
Yamamoto almost drew Ryūjin Jakka directly to give the brat in front of him a vicious strike.
"Why didn't you report such an important matter earlier?"
"Didn't Senior Chika and the others tell you?"
"Not a single word."
At this point, the master and disciple both fell silent.
For people with firm resolve, no amount of temptation could shake their original intentions.
Obviously, Chika and the others were exactly that kind of people.
"Let the past be the past. Who knows, maybe in a few decades, they will appear in the Seireitei again and become Soul Reapers once more."
Naraku Sora picked up the teacup and gulped it down in one go.
Hearing this, Yamamoto could not help but raise his eyelids and take a few more glances at his rebellious disciple sitting opposite him.
As a Soul Reaper who had lived for thousands of years, he understood perfectly well the difficulty of reversing life and death.
This was absolutely not a realm that Soul Reapers could touch.
Even for Ichibē Hyōsube of the Zero Division, whether he could do it or not was still a question.
As for the Spirit King...
That belonged to another realm entirely, far beyond him, completely incomprehensible.
But looking at Naraku Sora's current strength, this brat still belonged to the category of a Soul Reaper.
He could only say that he had a few more miraculous traits than other Soul Reapers.
Yamamoto suddenly remembered the Black Flash that Naraku Sora had once taught him, as well as the special Kidō, Impure World Reincarnation, and now the Rinne Tensei.
In terms of creativity and unpredictability alone, his disciple was definitely number one.
He could only say that both the person and his abilities were a bit too unorthodox.
Thinking of this, Yamamoto narrowed his eyes.
"I have no right to interfere with Saitō and Katori's choices. Since they want to join Shino Prison, then let it be so."
The only people left who had followed him in the past were Sasakibe Chōjirō and Unohana Retsu.
Compared to his own attitude towards subordinates, this brat was much better than him.
"If there's nothing else, then get out of here."
"Don't disturb my rest."
Naraku Sora grinned and laughed, "There is actually one more thing."
"Speak."
"You said before that after the rebellion ended, you would fight your way into Hell with me. Does that still count?"
Hearing this, Yamamoto immediately narrowed his eyes and said in a deep voice:
"Has the Department of Research and Development figured out a way to open the Gates of Hell?"
"Not exactly."
"?"
If they haven't, then what nonsense are you spouting? Are you making fun of me?
Veins bulged on Yamamoto's forehead. He felt it was necessary to teach this rebellious disciple a very profound lesson.
"Hell bullied us because we had no way to counterattack, so they ran rampant in the Seireitei, causing even more severe damage than the Tsunayashiro Clan did before."
"Even if you can swallow this anger, I can't."
"Besides, just because the Department of Research and Development can't figure it out, are we supposed to just cower forever?"
Naraku Sora was filled with righteous indignation, wishing he could just raise his arm and charge straight into Hell.
Yamamoto cast a sidelong glance at him, waiting for him to continue.
He knew this rebellious disciple well; if there really was no way, Naraku Sora would absolutely not have brought it up.
"I have a plan to plunge Hell into absolute chaos."
"Rather than drinking tea here, we might as well slaughter Urahara Kisuke, who slacks off all day. Then, during the Konso Reisai, the Gates of Hell will open wide. The two of us, master and disciple, can charge in and slaughter them until rivers of blood flow and the world is turned upside down."
Yamamoto: "?"
Was that even human language?
Just because a subordinate slacked off a bit, he was clamoring to slaughter him to draw out the Gates of Hell?
"Stop spouting nonsense."
Yamamoto glared at Naraku Sora in annoyance.
"I can't believe you'd say such a thing. Even if Urahara Kisuke hasn't made great contributions, he's still put in hard work. How could we do something as ungrateful as discarding him the moment he outlives his usefulness?"
Naraku Sora grinned. "Then what if we swap him for someone else?"
Yamamoto was taken aback.
In the Rukongai, at the foot of a certain tall mountain.
Yamamoto looked at the unconscious sinner and stroked his beard, wondering what had short-circuited in his brain to actually agree to Naraku Sora's method.
This sinner was named Kuroda Tomoya, a rogue Soul Reaper who had caused trouble in the Rukongai a few years ago.
His strength was not bad, barely reaching Third-Class Spiritual Power, which perfectly met the requirements to draw out the Gates of Hell.
"Teacher, you actually don't need to worry too much. Hell isn't as terrifying as you think."
"Although over millions of years, countless Soul Reapers with Third-Class Spiritual Power or higher might have accumulated, they can't last very long in Hell."
"According to Batsu'unsai, over ninety-nine percent of the Togabito have been turned into nutrients for Hell."
"Otherwise, where would it get the power to throw the Soul Society into chaos?"
As Naraku Sora spoke, he casually and skillfully finished off Kuroda Tomoya.
Soon, a familiar fluctuation occurred.
Yamamoto narrowed his eyes at the sky that had suddenly darkened, and the Gates of Hell that appeared within the vortex.
Dark, gloomy energy surged around the vortex, filled with a sense of distortion.
It really appeared.
Although the previous war had a certain impact on Hell, the rules had not changed.
Hell could not resist the temptation of Reishi with Third-Class Spiritual Power.
Just like Yamamoto could not resist roasted sweet potatoes.
As Kuroda Tomoya's Reishi ascended, the Gates of Hell opened once again.
Naraku Sora vanished from his spot with a Flash Step, charging straight inside.
Yamamoto hesitated for a moment, then followed him in.
Just as the Gates of Hell were about to close, a pitch-black Zanpakutō suddenly appeared, wedging itself directly between the two doors.
Holding them firmly open.
The scene was a bit different from last time.
Because this was a normal entry, they appeared on the first level.
Massive white buildings were pieced together like a Rubik's Cube. Countless Togabito shuttled through the crevices of the buildings, dodging the Kushanāda that patrolled back and forth.
They would occasionally whip out chains, blasting any dead they saw to pieces and crushing their bodies into a bloody pulp.
"What do we do?"
Yamamoto glanced at Naraku Sora beside him.
"Whatever you want."
Naraku Sora grinned. "It's best to let Hell witness a power capable of destroying the world."
"But make it quick, we don't have much time."
Yamamoto took a deep breath. With a sharp ring, he drew Ryūjin Jakka. Without any transition or hesitation, he directly erupted with his full Reiatsu.
"Bankai—"
"Zanka no Tachi!!"
The temperature in Hell skyrocketed drastically, instantly reaching a level unbearable for ordinary people.
In just one second, all the surrounding moisture evaporated, leaving one's lips and teeth parched.
The Togabito all looked up at the sky, only to see a sun rising within the perpetually gloomy Hell.
What was terrifying was that the sun was constantly approaching them, as if it wanted to burn everything to ashes.
"Wait, that's not a fucking sun!"
"Damn it! It's the Demon of the Sword, Yamamoto Shigekuni!"
"Why is this old geezer here? Did he die too?"
The Togabito could no longer bother with the Kushanāda patrolling everywhere. Just this all-incinerating high temperature was not something they could withstand.
After all, not everyone possessed the level of Third-Class Spiritual Power.
The vast majority were still just villains who had committed unforgivable crimes.
Driven by the will of Hell, the Kushanāda stepped forward to block him. However, before they could even get close, they were completely obliterated by a suddenly rising tornado of flames.
Watching Yamamoto recklessly vent his anger and immerse himself in his own world, Naraku Sora nodded in satisfaction.
Although this action might not affect much, it was still enough to disgust the other party.
It is impolite not to return what one receives. How could there be any reason for him to suffer a loss for nothing?
Soon, an entire level of Hell was plunged into a boundless sea of fire. Terrifying pillars of fire shot straight into the sky, destroying everything in sight.
Yamamoto unreservedly vented the pent-up frustration in his heart, fiercely letting out his anger.
Just as he was preparing to go a step further, Naraku Sora's voice suddenly came from behind him:
"Teacher, we should go."
"Hell can't afford to play anymore; it's getting ready to close its doors."
Yamamoto cast a somewhat reluctant glance at Hell. A place where he could unleash his power at will without any scruples—he wondered if he would have the chance to come back a few more times.