Haruto opened his eyes and saw an unfamiliar ceiling.
…Well.
Transmigration was not something that happened so casually.
The lively night of the Yoshiwara district had passed without incident. Manager Ichihara had not sent anyone to disturb him, and thanks to the excellent soundproofing of the fourth floor, no suggestive noises had drifted in from neighboring rooms or the floors below.
"Ahh…"
Stretching his waist and abdomen, Haruto let out a huge yawn and sat up from the tatami mat.
"Not a bad sleep."
After rubbing the dried moisture from the corners of his eyes and lightly slapping his cheeks twice, Haruto quickly became fully awake.
The Yoshiwara Rukongai in District East Forty-Five was relatively prosperous compared to the surrounding districts—but even here, it was not luxurious enough to waste clean water on washing faces and brushing teeth.
After all…
Just ten or so districts farther out, a single well could be the lifeline for dozens—sometimes hundreds—of people.
And the cause of countless deadly fights.
"Not quite as comfortable as the Shin'ō Academy dorms," Haruto muttered while moving quickly, "but it does bring back the feeling of living in Rukongai."
His movements were swift and efficient. Dressing, folding the bedding, packing away the sleeping mat—everything flowed smoothly, taking less than two minutes in total.
Of course, if any of the Kidō he had mastered involved water manipulation, Haruto might have spent twice as long paying attention to personal hygiene.
Knock knock knock.
Since arriving on the fourth floor the previous night, it was the first time clear footsteps had echoed through the hallway outside.
And—
"Come in."
Before the visitor could even knock, Haruto had already sensed their presence and spoke first.
Slide.
The familiar sound of a paper door opening.
The familiar figure and face.
The girl who had turned into a swarm of insects the night before now stood there again, carrying a square wooden tray containing breakfast.
"…Just set it there."
This time it was definitely the real person.
After all, considering Haruto's future partnership with Manager Ichihara, it would be strange to keep teasing him with illusions and insects.
But still.
After witnessing that insect swarm, it was genuinely difficult for Haruto to feel any interest in the girl—even though a certain part of him had risen bright and early along with the morning.
…
After a brief and meaningless exchange of words, the sliding door closed again.
Breakfast was neatly laid out on the table.
Seaweed tofu soup.
Natto.
Rice.
Sliced white radish and a small portion of green vegetables.
And tiny sausages fried into the shape of octopuses.
A perfectly standard Japanese-style breakfast.
Refined, balanced… and poor.
…
"I'll start eating."
Having lived in Soul Society for several years now, Haruto had slowly adopted certain habits.
Five minutes later, he had already finished everything on the tray.
With breakfast complete, he prepared to say farewell to Manager Ichihara.
However—
"Already leaving?"
Standing before the large and ornate paper door on the fifth floor, Haruto found his path gently blocked by the same burly man he had seen the previous day.
"Yes."
The man nodded.
"The manager went to District Forty-One on important business. She specifically instructed me not to neglect our honored guest. If you don't mind—"
"It's fine."
Haruto shook his head and declined the offer.
If she had clearly stated where she went, then she obviously was not trying to avoid him deliberately. After all, he was the unexpected variable here.
"We'll meet again someday."
Whether he saw Manager Ichihara again or not, Haruto had already shown sufficient courtesy. There was no need to linger any longer.
Descending the same staircase he had used the night before, Haruto left the luxurious pleasure house—
Though perhaps with a tiny bit of lingering nostalgia.
Daytime Yoshiwara had an entirely different atmosphere.
The nightlife establishments that had glowed with dazzling lights the night before now appeared completely transformed under the sunlight.
Breakfast shops.
Fresh food stalls.
Tailors.
Snack vendors.
All kinds of legitimate businesses filled the streets, giving the district a vibrant sense of everyday life.
If not for the fact that the workers bustling in and out of those stores were still the same women who carried traces of last night's profession…
Haruto might have suspected that he had fallen under an illusion.
"…?"
He was observing the shops with interest, just about to wander into one of them—
When a slowly approaching spiritual pressure suddenly reached his senses.
A familiar one.
Haruto instantly abandoned the idea.
Glancing behind him from the corner of his eye, he did not see any Shinigami robes.
Yet the spiritual pressure belonging to official members of the Gotei 13 stood out starkly among the ordinary residents of Rukongai.
"Plain clothes?"
The Gotei 13 maintained strict regulations.
Shinigami performing missions were required to wear their standard robes and were not permitted to wear personal clothing.
Of course, if one held sufficient status within their division, minor alterations to their uniform were rarely questioned.
As for the Onmitsukidō or the Kidō Corps…
Their attire during missions was even more concealed than the Gotei 13. The only ones who showed their faces openly were usually captains or vice-captains.
The textbooks at Shin'ō Academy specifically mentioned this—so it wasn't simply because an "author" was too lazy to draw faces.
"This far from Seireitei… probably Shinigami on leave. But why would they be watching me?"
No one had witnessed his brief clash with Manager Ichihara the night before.
And Shin'ō Academy had never forbidden students from hiding their strength.
"Interesting…"
Haruto gradually increased his pace.
He moved farther and farther away from the three busiest streets of the central district, heading toward the eastern outskirts of Rukongai.
Finally—
At a narrow alley where the surrounding buildings were crumbling and cramped, where sunlight could barely reach—
"Following me this far…"
Standing in the dead end filled with graffiti and garbage, Haruto turned his head and addressed the people who had revealed themselves.
"You must have something very important you want to discuss with me."
…
Two Shinigami.
Two civilians.
No—
The clothes worn by the latter pair were clearly beyond what ordinary Rukongai residents could afford.
But they also lacked the unmistakable luxury of high nobility.
Lower nobles.
Haruto immediately reached his conclusion.
"Class Five, Group One… Haruto?"
The voice came from the young noble standing at the far right, tinged with hostility.
"That's me."
Haruto nodded calmly.
"What advice do these seniors have for me?"
If they knew his class, they had to be students from Shin'ō Academy.
Although Soul Society valued strength above all else, the academy itself still carried a strong atmosphere of hierarchy. Seniority often mattered more than actual power.
Those who dared to address him like this could only be recent graduates from the sixth-year class.
And judging by the way the young noble was grinding his teeth…
All the sixth-year students who had previously clashed with Haruto had long since been taught their lessons.
Some had even been expelled from the academy entirely.
Which meant—
The ones showing such obvious resentment could only be the weaklings whose Hakuda exam results he had ruined in the Grand Training Arena.
"Talking to your seniors with such disrespect—don't you think we should teach you some manners?"
The enormous fat man beside the young noble shouted loudly, his massive body practically blocking half the alley.
…
The stereotypical villain line was so perfect that Haruto nearly lost control of his expression.
As expected of idiots who couldn't even pass the graduation exam.
"Haruto."
At that moment, the Shinigami standing in the center—clearly the leader—seemed slightly embarrassed by his companion's crude villain speech.
He stepped forward and spoke with polite courtesy.
Naturally, this also made sense.
Within the Gotei 13, noble status still mattered. It was obvious from how the Shinigami subordinate beside him behaved.
In other words—
This man had entered the Gotei 13 through his noble lineage.
"I am Kagamiya Rikugatami, eldest son of the lower noble Rikugatami family."
"…Nice to meet you?"
Despite the blatant hostility from the others, Haruto responded with proper courtesy.
After all, polite words deserved polite answers.
At the same time, he had already realized why their spiritual pressure felt familiar.
All four of them had been present in the large private room he saw the previous night.
The one who had noticed him back then was the young noble who had spoken first.
…
"To be honest, I would rather not become your enemy."
Kagamiya Rikugatami spoke quite sincerely—though it was somewhat pointless.
"I admit my father has spoiled my younger brother excessively. But sometimes… the dignity of a noble family cannot simply be ignored."
He slowly glanced around the alley.
"Haruto."
"To be buried in such a quiet, picturesque place… is quite fitting for someone born in Rukongai."
The tone was polite.
The meaning was ruthless.
Typical lower nobility—caught between true nobles and commoners, their arrogance and inferiority exposed all too quickly.
However—
"Your useless brother is already an insult to the nobility simply by existing."
The younger brother's face instantly twisted with rage.
Yet his status meant he had absolutely no right to speak here.
Even ordinary commoners from Rukongai who barely met the spiritual power requirements could graduate from Shin'ō Academy with a bit of effort.
Only failures who relied entirely on their noble status would be eliminated so cleanly during graduation exams.
"You're just a low-ranking seated officer."
Haruto looked directly at Kagamiya Rikugatami.
"What makes you think you can defeat me?"
Only high-ranking seated officers were allowed to wear the armband indicating their division and seat.
Someone like Kagamiya Rikugatami had probably only just become more than an ordinary soldier.
A spiritual pressure equivalent to the fifteenth or sixteenth level.
To Haruto, it was laughably weak.
Even Muneshika—the man he defeated with three strikes during their real sword duel—was far stronger.
The only reason Haruto was still talking was because of the man's Gotei 13 identity.
If a Shinigami attacked an academy student first, the consequences would be far more serious.
And if the body disposal wasn't perfect…
The Gotei 13 would investigate relentlessly.
"I'm naturally no match for you."
Kagamiya Rikugatami admitted calmly.
"Even if you skipped sixth year and graduated early, with your displayed strength you could likely become a high-ranking seated officer immediately."
"But—"
He smiled faintly.
"The Gotei 13 is a team. We are not individuals fighting alone."
"And when facing an opponent beyond one's abilities…"
He stepped aside.
At the final corner of the ruined street—
A massive figure slowly appeared.
"I'll leave it to you, Senior Onizuka."
Just as Haruto expected.
During the chase earlier, he had already noticed that the number of spiritual pressures didn't match the four people following him.
And the final arrival…
Was the true star of the fight the previous night.
Eighth Seat of the Eleventh Division.
Onizuka.
Not only that—
If the resemblance between the Rikugatami brothers was subtle…
The man called "Senior Onizuka" looked like an enlarged version of the fat man who had shouted earlier.
"I see."
Haruto calmly observed the towering figure blocking the road.
The Onizuka family clearly had close ties with the Rikugatami family.
Most likely the former had entered noble circles through the latter.
If Onizuka himself were a noble, Kagamiya Rikugatami would have addressed him as "sir," not "you."
To nobles—even pitiful lower nobles like the Rikugatami family—
A seated officer like Onizuka was merely a hired sword.
A slightly more expensive one.
"Eighth Seat Onizuka."
Haruto shifted his gaze toward him.
To Haruto, the Rikugatami family was insignificant.
But a seated officer from the Eleventh Division was another matter.
Among the Gotei 13, that division specialized in combat.
Even their average soldiers were slightly stronger than those in other divisions.
"Are you certain you want to listen to their nonsense?"
Haruto spoke calmly.
"A member of the Gotei 13 attacking a Shin'ō Academy student…"
"The consequences won't be solved by writing a simple apology."
"Apology?"
Onizuka snorted.
"So academy brats only know how to talk."
He slammed the sheath of his massive Zanpakutō into the ground.
BOOM.
Dry soil and gravel burst into the air.
"You dare offend the Eleventh Division?"
"Even if we bury you here, Captain Kenpachi Kiganjō would only praise us for a job well done!"
Haruto fell silent.
…
"I see."
Kenpachi Kiganjō.
The Tenth Kenpachi.
The weakest era in the history of the Eleventh Division.
Before and after him, the division's strength required no explanation.
The Seventh Kenpachi, Kuruyashiki.
The Eighth Kenpachi, Azashiro.
And the Eleventh Kenpachi—
Kenpachi Zaraki.
Each one a monster capable of shaking Soul Society itself.