Chapter 57: A Mutual Exchange Guided by Fists
After unleashing a series of combo strikes, Captain-Commander Yamamoto stood motionless, his gaze indifferently fixed forward.
Even this mere opening sent a clear message to those witnessing the scene: Genryusai Shigekuni Yamamoto, the Soul Reaper once crowned with the title of "The Strongest," had not grown old even after a thousand years!
From a vantage point with an excellent view, Aizen watched the battlefield. He adjusted his glasses and spoke with genuine interest:
"To still be capable of such feats... the old man truly lives up to his title as the strongest Soul Reaper in a millennium. He is a terrifying opponent that one truly would not wish to face head-on."
A holy voice descended from the heavens: "Oh? I didn't expect you to have a talent for being a color commentator, Aizen. Why not say a few more words?"
Aizen didn't speak; instead, it was Gin Ichimaru behind him who answered. Squinting like a fox, he slightly opened his eyes to gaze into the distance.
"In the skirmish just now, Kurosaki Ichigo attempted to counter-attack multiple times. Each time, he was dismantled by the Captain-Commander, ultimately forced to tank the entire combo."
Aizen then added: "Six counter-attacks, to be precise. Every single one was broken before the motion even finished. When the old man fights, his brutal posture—resembling a demon or an Asura—combined with his bloody, ruthless will and overwhelming experience, is truly a headache."
Aizen had a smile on his lips, but his eyes held no mirth.
As a mastermind lurking in the Seireitei for centuries, Yamamoto had always been his primary hypothetical enemy. Yet, over the years, he had rarely seen the Commander fight. He could only deduce and speculate through intelligence reports. Witnessing it firsthand caused his heart to sink slightly.
Aizen had always believed that a battle between Soul Reapers was a clash of Reiatsu. In terms of intensity and technique regarding spiritual power, he had absolute confidence. But that confidence was wavering.
The output of spiritual power, the circulation of energy, and even neural reflexes take time. Yet, Yamamoto's overwhelming combat experience allowed him to intuitively pierce through every possible resistance his opponent might take before a single thought could even form.
Ichigo didn't even have time to react before he was comboed. Aizen calculated that if he were in that position, he wouldn't fare much better.
Though Aizen had fought his share of battles, he was accustomed to lurking. He lacked the experience of life-or-death struggles against equals or superiors, or the experience of breaking through a desperate siege after being ambushed. Compared to a man like Yamamoto—who carved out an era for the Soul Society with a single blade and a handful of subordinates—the gap was an objective reality.
However, Aizen's resilient mindset ensured he wouldn't dwell on meaningless doubt. He immediately began strategizing counters: either increase his own combat experience, use Kyoka Suigetsu to distort Yamamoto's senses in advance, or simply avoid a direct confrontation and seek victory through other means...
"Oh, this is interesting. Why did the Captain-Commander suddenly stop?"
Aizen pulled himself out of his tactical musings to ponder this new development. Yamamoto was not the type to strike a pose or deliberately hold back. Why cease the assault?
"It's the tactile feedback," Unohana explained with a gentle smile from another vantage point. She was speaking to a heavily bandaged and weary-looking Kenpachi Zaraki. "The Commander sensed something was wrong with the 'feel' of his strikes. He instinctively felt that continuing the pursuit might lead to trouble, so he abruptly stopped!"
Kenpachi curled his lip. "Boring. If it were me, I'd punch through regardless of 'trouble.'"
Unohana continued to smile. "And that is exactly why you are currently covered in multiple comminuted fractures!"
Kenpachi grumbled but said nothing more. Before anyone else—even the Commander—he was arrogant and restless, but his attitude was markedly different in front of Unohana.
As Unohana said, Yamamoto had indeed felt that something was "off." Ichigo didn't feel like a body of flesh and blood; he felt like a volcano. The more he was attacked, the more the Commander sensed an impending anomaly.
Amidst the ruins of the smashed buildings, smoke swirled. Ichigo Kurosaki slowly walked out. He wasn't unscathed; he was coughing up blood heavily, but his demeanor remained unchanged. He was still relaxed, even showing a hint of enjoyment.
"That was a hell of a punch. Does that move have a name?"
Yamamoto said flatly: "That technique is called Ikkotsu (Single Bone)."
As the strongest Soul Reaper, Yamamoto's combat techniques were tempered to perfection. Even his Hakuda (unarmed combat) stood at the summit of the Soul Society. The principle of Ikkotsu wasn't complex—it simply involved compressing and gathering spiritual energy as much as possible before detonating it through the fist.
But simplicity in principle didn't mean ease in technique. Even his talented disciples, Kyoraku and Ukitake, wanted nothing to do with that move. To compress spiritual power into a physical state in an instant and explode it required non-human levels of control and physical durability.
The power of that punch was enough to level several buildings. Tanking it head-on made even the sturdy Ichigo spit blood, but he didn't care. He asked with anticipation:
"Is there anything... even more potent?"
Yamamoto swept a disdainful glance over him. "Come here and find out!"
"Alright, I'm coming!"
With a light tap of his foot, Ichigo shot forward like an arrow. In an instant, he broke the sound barrier, leaving a sonic boom and a shockwave that blew the dust aside.
Seeing this supersonic lunge, Kenpachi Zaraki began to observe intently, wanting to see how the Commander would handle such speed. Yamamoto did not disappoint, providing a textbook response. Without even lifting his eyelids, he used concise horizontal and vertical parries to perfectly block the blur of high-speed punches Ichigo unleashed.
Fast?
In the eyes of the wise old man who saw through everything, pure speed was meaningless. Every possible attack route had already been calculated because he had lived through far, far too many wars.
Suddenly, Yamamoto clenched both fists and punched forward simultaneously. As he struck, Ichigo's center of gravity and the momentum of his own punch created a split-second opening. That flaw was instantly identified and decisively seized!
"Sōkotsu (Double Bone)!"
A shockwave far more potent, savage, and fierce than before slammed into Ichigo. Time seemed to slow. The sound of bones snapping echoed continuously. Ichigo's chest and abdomen collapsed inward, his flesh ruptured, and he was launched backward like a cannonball.
The move called Sōkotsu looked like two Ikkotsu strikes delivered at once, but the reality was far more profound. Stronger compression, more extreme eruption, and a complex flow of energy meant each hand delivered double the power of a single Ikkotsu. Then, the synergy between both fists coordinated the strength of the entire body, doubling the power again on top of that.
Sōkotsu possessed at least four times the power of Ikkotsu!
"Oh, so that's how that move works. Had I known, I wouldn't have been beaten so badly," Kenpachi remarked. He remembered a time when Yamamoto had tried to train him in Kendo. The Commander had demonstrated that a two-handed grip was much stronger than a one-handed one. At the time, Kenpachi thought it was nonsense, thinking that if more hands meant more power, he should just ask Mayuri to graft more arms onto him so he could cut through the whole Soul Society. He lost interest in Kendo after one day. But now, he realized the Commander wasn't teaching him about sword grips—he was trying to teach him the secrets of Sōkotsu through the medium of the blade.
Unohana shook her head. "Ikkotsu is already a move not many can learn. Sōkotsu is a technique only the Commander can use in the entire Soul Society. But that aside... that boy is truly terrifying. Whether by instinct or design, he didn't resist Sōkotsu. He actually enjoyed taking it..."
Mentioning this, Kenpachi remembered that "creepy gentleness" and tried to speak. But as he opened his mouth, his gaze went distant. In his mental landscape, Fisher appeared amidst high-octane music, holding his chrysanthemums and Vaseline.
"HI, BOY! Forget everyone else! Let's have some fun!"
"FISHER, GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HEAD!!!"
Watching Kenpachi lose consciousness as his face twisted into extreme "Akao" expressions, Unohana smiled but didn't intervene. She noticed that every time Kenpachi entered this state, his aura grew slightly stronger. She turned her attention back to the fight.
"Boy, you seem a bit arrogant!"
Yamamoto had also noticed what happened. Even with his temperament, he felt a spark of irritation. Since he earned the title of the strongest Soul Reaper, no one had dared to face him with such a casual attitude for a thousand years.
"Sorry, sorry. The sheer weight of history you carry is just too attractive. I got a bit... mesmerized," Ichigo replied.
He had crashed into a cliffside but quickly brushed off the rubble and stood up. The injury to his torso was horrific—he had practically been punched through—yet his expression remained leisurely.
He walked back toward Yamamoto. The Commander's pupils shrank as he saw the horrific wound rapidly healing. No, it wasn't just healing; it was recomposing.
"This is a new skill I learned a few days ago called Reishi Recomposition. Among other things, its recovery speed is top-tier. So, I wasn't resisting because of arrogance; I was simply enjoying our 'exchange'..."
Ichigo explained seriously. Yamamoto snorted. "Fighting for the sake of an 'exchange'? This is the first time I've heard such a reason. And what, pray tell, have you felt?"
"I've felt a lot. Old man... you're in a lot of pain, aren't you?"
Ichigo approached, speaking earnestly:
"I can feel that you aren't a man who loves slaughter. But the open killings, the secret betrayals, one war after another... they have filled your entire life. You had no choice but to cross countless battlefields I can't even imagine. As the scars on your body increased, your heart grew cold, even mad. That bloodthirsty killing intent and your flawless combat techniques are witnesses to your past choices and will. I felt all of it, deeply..."
Yamamoto remained silent, but old memories were stirred.
Eons ago, about two thousand years ago, he wasn't called Genryusai Yamamoto; he was just Yamamoto Shigekuni. Back then, he opened a private school called the Genji School. He took in children to teach them, intending to spread his "Gen-ryu" style.
What happened during those thousand years of his youth and middle age is difficult to track. All that is known is that a millennium later, when the era of Noble wars intensified and the Quincies were stirring, the Genji School had vanished. He added "Genryusai" to his name and led a group of heartless, vicious killers, pursuing slaughter and victory through any means necessary.
"The history you've walked is too long. Countless past choices have become shackles on your body. I feel the weight you carry. Even when you want to swing your fist, you subconsciously hold back. You're worried, you're afraid, you're even in terror—not of the enemy, but of yourself. You fear repeating the same mistakes, fear that you'll unintentionally destroy everything and return to that past of only blood and killing..."
Through his extraordinary combat sensitivity, Ichigo had felt the heart beneath Yamamoto's ruthless exterior!
Yamamoto's eyes lowered for a moment, eons of wind and frost flashing within them. Finally, he looked up and locked eyes with Ichigo.
"Boy, if you think mere words will sway me, you are a fool. For you are currently far from reaching a level where I would need to 'cast everything aside' to fight you!"
"True. I'm not there yet. However, an exchange is two-way. I've felt your will; now, let me speak mine without reservation!"
Ichigo slowly reached up and swiped his hand across his face!
A savage, hideous bone mask appeared. Above the mask, two horns curved backward, radiating a terrifying, cold light.
"A Hollow!? No... that is... such staggering malice!"
Yamamoto immediately sensed the truth. What Ichigo wore wasn't a Hollow mask; it was a manifestation of all his inner malice, killing intent, animosity, and hunger—a condensed dark side!
Everyone has an abyss in their heart they dare not look into. Even the kindest person has fleeting evil thoughts. Ichigo had pulled his abyss out and worn it on his face. It symbolized...
The Hunting Hour of Mutual Predation!
"Ha! Old man... let's slaughter each other to our hearts' content!!!"
He lunged again at supersonic speed, but his movements were ghost-like—beastly and demonic. His trajectory was impossible to predict. The moment they clashed, Yamamoto noticed the difference. Before, Ichigo relied on raw speed and simple punches. There was no technique; his power was just "fast." Now, his killing techniques were natural and exquisite.
Fists, palms, fingers, feet, legs—every part of Ichigo's body had become a killing machine of staggering efficiency! A predator's bite doesn't need to be learned; it's in the genes, maturing with the creature. Ichigo was the same; everything was in his blood, needing only to be unearthed.
And he had made improvements. As they fought, Yamamoto felt a sense of déjà vu. For a fleeting second, he hallucinated, seeing a reinforced, demonic version of Kenpachi Zaraki attacking him. It was clear Ichigo had extracted significant "nourishment" from his fight with Kenpachi.
Ichigo's speed was increasing; his attacks were growing more savage!
Then, in a clash of offense and defense, Ichigo reached out like a claw. Yamamoto parried, but he didn't expect Ichigo's fingertips to suddenly erupt with black-and-red crescent-shaped energy!
Five black-and-red energy blades grew from small to large in an instant. Five claw-waves, carrying the momentum to tear the heavens and earth, slashed forward!
What shocked Yamamoto wasn't the Shiba clan's trademark Getsuga Tensho, but the fact that Ichigo had subtly infused the secrets of Sōkotsu into the move!
End of Chapter
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