章 55: Chapter 55: An Empty Shell
Carrying Rangiku Matsumoto on his back, Kujo Taimei slowed his pace slightly as he noticed Ichimaru Gin stumbling along beside him.
"Gin, the treatment just ended. There's no need to rush," Kujo said, concern in his voice.
"No, we need to hurry…" Ichimaru Gin gritted his teeth and urged Kujo Taimei in a low voice, even staggering ahead of him in his haste.
"What's wrong, Gin?" Kujo asked, puzzled.
Gin glanced back at the houses now far behind them and muttered, "I never said we needed to go back for anything."
"Huh? Then why—" Kujo began to question him instinctively, but his words faltered as he sensed something amiss.
"That woman—or boy—who entered earlier isn't right. Lord Senju was signaling us to call for reinforcements immediately," Gin explained, his tone firm despite the pain.
"I understand, Gin. Take Rangiku and get away from here," Kujo replied, his expression hardening as he realized the gravity of the situation. Without hesitation, he handed Matsumoto Rangiku to Gin.
"Wait, hold on—where's Lord Senju's teacher—" Gin started, but Kujo was already gone, vanishing in an instant with a burst of flash step.
---
Meanwhile, back at the house, Senju Makoto carefully scrutinized the widow before him.
Or rather, perhaps it would be more accurate to call her… the deceased.
While most Shinigami could not directly perceive the degree of spiritual particle dissipation, Senju Makoto, having awakened the zanpakuto Shinra Bansho, possessed a unique ability. This gift allowed him to observe the flow of every spiritual particle with extraordinary precision. It was also one of the reasons why he could create "Seeds of the Forest," spiritual particles of near-perfect size.
When Makoto concentrated, he could even track the movement of individual spiritual particles with his naked eye. This extraordinary talent, which Makoto considered unremarkable, had left even Captain Unohana Retsu astounded by his skill in healing techniques.
After all, the essence of healing lay in repairing, correcting, and sometimes dissecting spiritual bodies. While others perceived a soul as a unified entity, Makoto could see the intricate structure of the spiritual particles that composed it.
Thus, from the moment he laid eyes on the widow, Makoto had noticed the bizarre, abnormal spiritual particle dissipation radiating from her.
In some ways, what he saw was akin to a human with a severed artery, blood spraying everywhere while they sat in a clinic, acting as though nothing was wrong.
'This is… absurd,' Makoto thought, his gaze flickering momentarily.
Despite his inner turmoil, his demeanor remained calm, even tinged with a sense of amusement. He was certain Gin would have deciphered the subtle clues in his words and that it wouldn't be long before the Tenth Division surrounded this place.
More importantly, Makoto was well aware that Unohana was nearby, lying in wait. With Gin and Rangiku safely sent away, Makoto now felt entirely unbothered.
'But what is this thing, exactly? A controlled resident? Or perhaps...'
"What's hidden within?"
As the question spun through his mind, Senju Makoto gracefully adjusted his glasses with a refined motion, then spoke in a calm voice.
"Madam, may I ask what discomfort you're experiencing?"
The widow's vacant eyes shifted slightly as she responded, "My child's soul is missing a piece. I heard this place might be able to help."
Makoto nodded faintly, his expression gentle. "I see. In that case, may I examine you first, Madam? Please lie down on that bed over there."
The widow froze for a moment, seemingly needing several seconds to process his words. She eventually replied, "It's my child who needs treatment, not me."
"I understand, I understand..." Makoto's voice remained soft and reassuring. "But this is a necessary step in the process. Please cooperate. After all, you wouldn't want your child's treatment to be delayed, would you?"
Caught off guard, the widow hesitated. Under Makoto's seemingly calm and courteous gaze, she slowly lay down on the bed, her back to him.
"Is this alright?" she asked cautiously.
"Perfect. Thank you for your cooperation, Madam."
Makoto cast a glance at the boy standing motionlessly nearby, his face devoid of expression. Then, slipping on a pair of white gloves, he approached the widow. His hands gently pressed against her back as he spoke.
"Relax, Madam. This is all part of the procedure..."
The next moment, a green glow representing the power of restoration emanated from his hands.
Hollow.
Makoto's expression remained soft, but his pupils constricted slightly. The widow's spiritual body... was almost entirely hollowed out. What remained was merely an empty shell.
"Crack... crack..."
Before Makoto could fully process the shock, the widow's neck twisted unnaturally, her dead and vacant eyes locking onto him. Her voice, empty but tinged with a mocking tone, broke the silence.
"Ah... such a delicious ripple of emotion. I can taste it."
"You... What are you?"
Before Makoto could finish his thought, a sharp blade shot through the widow's body. Something had pierced her, driving straight into her core.
"Schlkk!"
"You..."
The widow's words were cut short as the tip of Makoto's sword pierced through her throat, emerging from her mouth and silencing her completely.
Without hesitation, Makoto yanked the blade free, leapt backward, and scooped up the motionless boy. Bursting through the wall, he emerged outside the building in a single violent motion.
"Makoto!"
As he retreated, a voice called out. Kujō Taimei, leading a squad of 10th Division members, rushed toward him.
"Are you alright? What's the situation?"
"I'm fine..." Makoto handed the boy to one of the division members, his expression grave.
"It's a Hollow. If my senses are correct, there's a powerful one—likely a Menos Grande—inside that woman's body."
"What?!"
The gathered squad members, including several seated officers, reacted instinctively, their faces paling. Even the weakest Menos Grande was a threat that regular members, and even most seated officers, couldn't handle alone.
"Boom!"
At that moment, a terrifying spiritual pressure erupted from the house, heavy with a void-like despair that chilled everyone to the bone.
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