After walking out of Ōmaeda's line of sight, Ichigo, who had been silent, let out a long sigh.
"That was close, I thought that guy would see through us."
"How could he? He's quite happy right now."
Shimiya Takeru's tone was calm, devoid of the helplessness he'd shown earlier when his medicine hit a wall and was then haggled down.
Ichigo almost laughed in exasperation.
"That's right, we made the healing medicine into a laxative, thinking it wouldn't sell. But then, when we sold it as a laxative, some people felt like they'd found a great bargain, discovered a new use, and couldn't wait to get their hands on it."
"A hundred portions, made with hot spring water and the medicine you concocted yourself, almost no cost. In just three days, two million will be in hand, which is equivalent to a Captain-level Shinigami's monthly salary. And this is just the beginning; once he tastes the sweetness, he'll definitely place orders continuously, surpassing a Captain in no time."
"I never thought we'd initially achieve the financial freedom you talked about like this…"
Everything that happened today truly refreshed Ichigo's worldview.
He also genuinely admired Shimiya Takeru's mind.
"Um, Shigong…"
"Speak."
"Do you think I still have a chance to become as eloquent as you?"
"…"
Shigong stopped, his gaze scanning Ichigo up and down.
"Do you believe you can reincarnate into the ninja world?"
"…"
Fourth Division, Comprehensive Relief Station.
"Alright! That's all cleaned up!"
Yamada Hanatarō wiped the sweat from his forehead, looking at the corridor he had just cleaned with a joyful heart.
The high-hanging sun outside the window made the wooden floor sparkle.
After labor, glancing at the scenery outside the window brought an indescribable sense of fulfillment.
"Yamada."
Hearing the call suddenly, Hanatarō paused, then turned to look, only to see a serious man with yellow hair and glasses walking towards him.
It was the Third Seat of the Fourth Division, Iemura Yachika.
"You've worked hard, having a Seventh Seat like you do this kind of work."
"It's what I should do. A good hygienic environment is beneficial for patients' recovery. Besides, the Comprehensive Relief Station covers a very large area, and the Division has limited staff. I happen to have time, and I really can't stand by and watch everyone busy themselves, so I might as well help with some chores."
Looking at the small-statured officer who was scratching his head and smiling foolishly, Iemura felt genuinely relieved.
This was the kind of talent the Fourth Division needed.
Although his personality was a bit timid, he was still much more agreeable than that Eighth Seat, Hagido Harunobu, who always tarnished his reputation.
Moreover, he could undertake the task of treating those barbarians from the Eleventh Division.
"Oh, right."
Iemura suddenly remembered something.
"Yamada, Seventh Seat."
"Yes!"
The solemn address made Hanatarō instinctively stand up straight.
"Recently, have the people from the Eleventh Division been coming less often?"
"Huh? Oh, yes, that's right."
After all, among the Gotei 13, the Eleventh Division was the most troublesome.
They were either fighting or on their way to a fight.
After finishing on the front lines, they would continue sparring back at the barracks.
It was common for old wounds to not yet heal before new ones were added.
With many people, severe injuries, and their uncooperative and rude attitude, the workload was unusually high. If the task of treating these people was entirely dumped on Hanatarō alone, even with his excellent medical skills, he would be swamped.
It would be almost impossible for him to take out an entire day to clean.
Therefore, when this situation occurred, it could only mean one thing—
The frequency of visits from the Eleventh Division had dropped significantly.
While in some sense it was a good thing, it was also genuinely suspicious.
"Um… did something happen, Iemura, Third Seat?"
Hanatarō noticed the other person's face wasn't looking too good, and out of kindness, he cautiously asked.
"Something did indeed happen."
Iemura's brows were furrowed.
"Other Divisions are fine, but the decrease in patients from the Eleventh Division definitely means some unknown incident has occurred."
"An incident… it shouldn't be that serious, right?"
Hanatarō scratched his cheek.
Unexpectedly, the next second Iemura suddenly moved closer, looming over him like a mountain.
"Yamada, Seventh Seat, you completely underestimate the seriousness of the situation!"
"That's the Eleventh Division! Can you believe that people from the Eleventh Division would settle down and not get themselves all injured?"
"That… that's indeed a bit hard to imagine."
Hanatarō raised both hands in a gesture of surrender, chuckling nervously with cold sweat on his brow.
"So, there must be something fishy going on. I must find a way to investigate it thoroughly. I will stake the dignity of the Fourth Division; I will absolutely not allow anyone to spread rumors that the Fourth Division has problems, which is why everyone stopped coming!"
Iemura retracted his imposing aura, adjusted his sunglasses, and spoke in a low, firm tone.
Just then, a nurse ran down the corridor.
"—Yamada, Seventh Seat! Oh, Iemura, Third Seat, you're here too. Sorry to interrupt your conversation, but the Eleventh Division just sent in an injured person."
Hanatarō and Iemura instinctively exchanged glances upon hearing this.
"Let's go! We can ask them directly!"
"Huh, huh!"
Before Hanatarō could agree to take on the task, Iemura grabbed him and furiously rushed towards the medical room.
As soon as they reached the door, they heard someone loudly arguing inside.
And it was all rather infuriating talk.
"What!? I have to rest for three hours before my arm can move? Can't you think of something? I have a man's duel tomorrow, are you trying to make me miss it!"
"Hey (tongue click)! Why can't I get it wet! It's just a slightly larger wound on my chest, it's a sword wound. This size just proves how brave I was to defeat my opponent, it's a symbol of honor! And now you're telling me that after all my hard work defeating the enemy, I can't even take a proper bath? Is this the treatment a warrior deserves? When will your Fourth Division's treatment standards improve!"
"Seriously, if I hadn't lost all my goods in a bet, who would want to come to the Fourth Division? A bunch of cowards who only know how to hide behind others. Our Division isn't without people who can provide battlefield first aid. Look at them, they can even pick up a sword and cut people, and look at you, even if the enemy reaches your doorstep, you'll still act like ostriches."
"Forget it, just give me some medicine to stop the bleeding and bandage the wound. I don't want to waste time with you."
Outside the door, Hanatarō's body trembled slightly, not from anger, but from the low pressure emanating from Iemura and his ashen face.
Bang!
Iemura pushed the door open, looking with icy eyes at the several burly men who were making trouble for the nurses.
"You…"
"We're sorry!"
The fierce, burly men of the Eleventh Division suddenly knelt down and begged for mercy.
Iemura's surge of anger was stifled, and he stood frozen, unsure what to say.
Are these really people from the Eleventh Division?
Just as this thought surfaced in his mind, a slender, delicate hand suddenly rested on his shoulder.
A gentle voice with the scent of autumn orchids sounded in his ear.
"Iemura, Third Seat, you opened the door a bit too forcefully. Remember to be gentler next time."
"?!"
Iemura's body stiffened, his forehead covered in fine cold sweat. Looking at the burly men kneeling on the floor, he finally understood what was happening.
"Yes, Captain Unohana, I will remember that."
"Very good."
Iemura respectfully stepped aside, making way. The gentle woman who had appeared behind him at some point narrowed her beautiful eyes, turning her attention to the members of the Eleventh Division.
"If you all have complaints about the Fourth Division, why not tell me directly? Why bother my subordinates?"
The ruffians' faces instantly turned pale, as if all the blood had been drained from their bodies in an instant, and along with it, their backbone.
"No complaints! No complaints at all, we were just… uh, acting!"
"Right! Acting!"
"To confuse the enemy, we pretended to quarrel to lower their guard!"
"Oh, is that so?"
Retsu Unohana smiled brightly.
"Since you have no complaints to make, then I will make one."
"Please, please."
The ruffians showed smiles uglier than crying.
"As far as I know, the Eleventh Division's attendance rate hasn't decreased, but the number of patients is falling. If I'm not mistaken, you've acquired other means of treatment, haven't you?"
Retsu Unohana's words were startling.
Iemura couldn't help but look over, thinking, "Did Captain Unohana realize this a long time ago?"
"This…"
The ruffians exchanged glances, feeling bitter.
They regretted coming.
This was bad.
Watching the ruffians hesitate, still exchanging glances for a strategy, Retsu Unohana's smile remained unchanged, but her tone was full of hidden meaning.
"Let me remind you of something: I am also a Captain, you know. I'm not quite like the subordinates you speak of… who can only stay in the rear; I can pick up a sword and fight."
"?!"
…
The next day, Medical Analysis Room.
"As expected of Captain Unohana, the truth was uncovered so quickly."
"That's also thanks to the unconditional cooperation of the Eleventh Division's members."
Listening to Retsu Unohana's modest words, Iemura and Lieutenant Isane's mouths twitched slightly. With her speaking, would they dare not cooperate?
This kind of prestige, capable of making the entire Eleventh Division bow its head, was possessed by only a select two or three individuals in the Soul Society. If anyone else had undertaken this task, it would have been immeasurably more troublesome.
"Speaking of which, is it because of this medicine that the Eleventh Division stopped coming to the Fourth Division for treatment?"
Isane curiously looked at the small bottle on the experimental table.
The bottle itself was nothing special; it was a cheap item that could be easily bought.