The sky over Seireitei remained clear, and the reishi circulated endlessly.
Deep within the Shihōin Clan estate, Hiroki leaned back in the shadow of the courtyard corridor.
Ten years. It had been exactly ten years, one month, and seven days since that damn system mission was last issued.
He had been waiting so long that the flowers were about to wither.
"Stupid system!" Hiroki growled in his heart, filled with pent-up resentment. "Where's my mission? Didn't we agree on once every ten years? Is there a bug, or did you crash from a virus?"
He had been yearning for it day and night, waiting for the system's signature 'ding' to drop any mission at all, just so he could earn some points.
"Ding." The system's iconic, emotionless electronic voice finally rang out in Hiroki's mind.
Hiroki's spirits lifted. He snapped upright, his eyes flashing with sharp light.
It's here! After ten years of sharpening the sword, this was the moment he'd been waiting for! He was already rapidly calculating mission difficulty, point rewards, and his priority exchange list in his head.
However, the system's next words were like a bucket of ice water dug from the depths of an eternal glacier, chilling him to the bone: "This system has not received a mission."
Nothing?! The expectation on Hiroki's face instantly froze, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
He took a deep breath, trying to suppress the urge to drag the system core out of his sea of consciousness and give it a brutal beating.
"...It's been ten years! A whole ten years!" Hiroki roared with his thoughts. "Don't you give a mission every ten years? What happened to the pattern! I endured the first ten-year gap as a coincidence, but this second one is another ten years—is that still a coincidence? Are you playing me?"
"Precisely so," the system's voice remained steady and flat, carrying an infuriating sense of matter-of-factness.
"This system's mission distribution mechanism is based on cross-dimensional commission demands. The previous two ten-year intervals were purely coincidental alignments of space-time coordinates for the commissions, not an inherent cycle setting. At the current time node, no eligible commissions have submitted applications to this system; therefore, there are no missions to accept."
"..." Hiroki was left speechless.
So this broken system really just passively takes orders?
Couldn't it take the initiative to go to other worlds and grab a few missions?
He felt like a fool waiting by a tree for a hare that would never come.
A thousand words were stuck in his throat, eventually turning into a long sigh full of helplessness and frustration.
"Sigh..." His shoulders slumped as he leaned back against the corridor pillar.
Who could he blame? Blame this dog of a system for being too useless to even have a stable order channel?
Or blame the clients across the myriad worlds for being so incompetent that they didn't encounter a single problem requiring cross-border resolution in ten years?
Ultimately, he could only blame this dog system!
Looking at the solitary [Point Balance: 103,527] on his system panel, Hiroki felt his heart bleeding.
These points weren't even enough to get between his teeth! In the exchange list, the long string of zeros behind anything even slightly decent seemed to mock him silently.
Especially his ultimate life-saving trump card—the activation rights for Great Void Sword Qi - Divine Implication. It was clearly marked: [Single activation cost in non-mission worlds: 100,000 points].
This was his bottom-of-the-barrel life-saving straw, his final ace that he dared not use unless it was a matter of life and death.
This meant that out of the hundred thousand-odd points in his hand, he could actually only use a pitiful few thousand, which was better than nothing but barely so.
He didn't dare use even a single point! He had to clutch them tightly, like Grandet guarding his gold coins.
"Chizuru," Hiroki spoke with a bit of listlessness, his voice carrying a hint of decadence.
Almost the instant his words fell, a lithe figure appeared outside the corridor like a teleportation.
Tamaki Chizuru, still wearing that efficient maid outfit, had a calm face: "Young Master, please give your orders."
"Go notify the Uchiha Clan," Hiroki waved his hand. "The combat readiness... cancel it. Let everyone go back to what they were doing..."
He paused and added, "Just maintain a basic alert level. There's no need to stay prepared for battle at all times like before."
As the ten-year mark approached, the Uchiha Clan had been maintaining a high state of combat readiness under his orders to deal with any sudden missions that might appear.
Now it seemed like a complete waste of emotion.
"Yes, Young Master." Chizuru didn't question him at all. She answered decisively, her figure flickering and disappearing on the spot once more.
Hiroki gazed at the swaying flowers and grass in the courtyard, feeling the spiritual pressure within him that was as vast as the sea but had nowhere to be unleashed. A sense of frustration at having the skill to slay dragons but no dragons to slay welled up within him.
Just then, light footsteps came from the courtyard entrance.
A Shihōin family servant responsible for estate security respectfully announced: "Lord Head of the Clan, the Head of the Kuchiki Clan requests an audience."
"Hmm?" Hiroki was slightly taken aback, snapping out of his endless point-related anxiety.
Kuchiki Byakuya? What is that kid doing here now?
Generally, matters regarding division duties were handled or reported directly by Shisui. Although Byakuya was the Head of the Kuchiki Clan and the fourth seat of the Sixth Division, he rarely came to the door for private matters.
"Is there something going on with the division?" he asked instinctively.
"Lord Kuchiki did not state the specific matter, only that he has something to discuss with the Lord Head of the Clan," the guard replied cautiously.
"Forget it, let him in." Hiroki adjusted his sitting posture, making himself look less like a'salted fish'.
Soon, a tall and somewhat cold figure appeared at the end of the corridor.
Kuchiki Byakuya was wearing the Ginrei Shirohata, representing the Head of the Kuchiki Clan, over his shinigami uniform, walking with steady steps.
Ten years of time had stripped away the last trace of youthfulness. His features were more defined, and his brow held the weight of responsibility and restraint.
It was just... Hiroki shook his head inwardly. This kid really did revert; he had turned back into that standard noble ice-face from his memories.
Byakuya walked to about three steps in front of Hiroki and bowed solemnly. His posture was meticulous, fully displaying the thousand-year grace of the Kuchiki Clan: "Captain Shihōin."
"Yeah, what is it?" Hiroki responded lazily, his gaze sweeping over Byakuya's face, trying to find any emotional fluctuations.
Hmm, more serious than usual? Deep in his eyes, there seemed to be a hint of... nervousness?
Byakuya straightened up and took a deep breath, as if he had made a certain decision. He looked directly at Hiroki (though his gaze remained calm and ripple-less) and spoke clearly: "It is like this. On the fifteenth of next month, I will hold a wedding. I sincerely invite Captain Shihōin to take the time to attend."
"Huh?" Hiroki's originally lazy expression instantly froze, his eyes widening slightly. He almost thought he had misheard.
"Getting married? To whom?" This was truly explosive news! The head of the Kuchiki family was getting married? Who was the partner? A daughter of another noble family in Seireitei? Could it be... Byakuya seemed to have expected Hiroki's reaction. His tone remained steady, but Hiroki keenly caught his fingers hanging by his side curling unconsciously: "My fiancée is not of noble birth. She... is just an ordinary soul from the Rukongai."
"An ordinary soul? A 'Plus'?" Hiroki blurted out, his brow furrowing instantly.
He remembered! The original story! Kuchiki Rukia's sister! That woman who was as gentle as water but had a tragic, short life!
What was her name... Kuchiki Hisana!
Yes, that was the name! A 'Plus' who had no spiritual pressure and existed merely in soul form.
In an environment like Seireitei, filled with high-intensity reishi, such an existence was like placing a delicate flower into a furnace.
"Yes," Byakuya's voice was low but firm, confirming Hiroki's guess.
Hiroki's expression became somewhat solemn.
He sat up straight, his gaze falling on Byakuya's face with substance, carrying a scrutinizing look.
"Have you thought about it then?" His voice lost its previous laziness and became serious. "She is a 'Plus.' In a high-concentration reishi environment like Seireitei, her'soul body' won't be able to withstand it; it will only accelerate her disintegration."
"She won't live for many years, right? Maybe a few decades, or even shorter. Marrying her is equivalent to personally putting a countdown shackle on her." This was not a curse, but the cruel rule of the Soul Society.
Byakuya's back straightened even more, his eyes showing no sign of wavering. Instead, they flickered with a resolute light:
"I have thought about it. Very clearly. Even... I once thought about giving up the responsibilities of the Kuchiki Clan to accompany her out of Seireitei and live a peaceful life in the Rukongai."
"Oh?" Hiroki was somewhat surprised. For Byakuya to make such a decision, his determination and sacrifice were far greater than he had imagined.
"You gave up on that?"
"Yes. She refused." A trace of complex emotion flashed through Byakuya's eyes—deep affection, helplessness, and more of a relief from being understood.
"She didn't want me to discard my family and honor because of her. She... only wants to be by my side, regardless of how long the time may be."