Killing Intent!
It was a nearly tangible and pure killing intent—so unadulterated that it existed solely for slaughter. The sheer ferocity of it pierced directly into Makoto's soul, leaving his mind momentarily blank. Then, as if some primal instinct had been provoked and awakened, blood vessels began to surface around Makoto's eyes.
But only for a fleeting instant. That primal urge was forcibly suppressed by Makoto himself. His voice, tinged with panic, broke the tense silence.
"T…Teacher, what's wrong?"
Interrupted by Makoto's sudden outburst, Unohana, who had been reacting instinctively, snapped back to her senses. The once-collapsing expression on her face swiftly returned to normal, and the oppressive, blood-soaked spiritual pressure that had been seeping out vanished completely. It was as if nothing had happened, leaving the earlier moment feeling like a mere illusion.
"Oh dear, Makoto, I'm sorry. I just remembered some rather unpleasant memories," she said lightly.
"Phew…"
Makoto let out a long breath and replied, "Teacher, you scared me. For a moment there, I really thought you were about to cut me down."
"Well," Unohana replied with a sweet smile, "it wasn't entirely a misunderstanding…"
Her words made Makoto's heart tighten.
"Makoto, what made you think of saying something so bold as to challenge me in combat? Provoking your teacher like this—it really caught me off guard," she said, still smiling but with a faintly dangerous undertone.
"Well…"
Makoto scratched his head, looking like a typical bright and clueless young man, but there was a tinge of awkwardness in his voice as he said, "I thought… this was the most offensive thing I could say to you, Teacher. Drawing a blade against the teacher I admire and respect the most… I figured it might disappoint you deeply and cause an intense emotional reaction, right?"
"I see…"
Unohana reached out and gently patted Makoto's head, her tone soft and soothing.
"Makoto, there's no need to worry. I believe you'll become an exceptional student. So even if you occasionally offend me, I won't hold it against you."
O-Offend?
Teacher, are we even talking about the same thing?
Makoto quickly lowered his head. Though he understood that Unohana was likely referring to the idea of combat, he couldn't shake the feeling that continuing this conversation would lead them into dangerous territory. He could almost see himself being branded a traitorous student despised by everyone.
Unohana continued to ruffle Makoto's hair gently before turning away, her back once again facing him.
Relieved, Makoto finally relaxed, but his gaze inevitably drifted to her back, which seemed completely unguarded. He could even see the pristine, delicate skin on the back of her neck.
A single slash… and blood would surely gush like a fountain.
Makoto adjusted his glasses and unconsciously licked his lips, savoring the thrill of that moment—the dance on the edge of life and death.
"Just now… that moment was truly exhilarating…"
"If I had hesitated even a fraction longer before interrupting Teacher Unohana, she might very well have acted on instinct and struck at me…"
Although Makoto had been subjected to countless brutal killings within his spiritual training realm—endlessly flirting with death through torment after torment—the intensity of experiencing it in reality was on a completely different level. It was so overwhelming that Makoto found himself struggling to suppress a dark surge rising within him.
The Instinct of His Own Body!
At this thought, Senju Makoto couldn't help but feel his heart race slightly, his entire body responding in some way.
It was hard!
It was hard!!!
The hand gripping his Zanpakuto had stiffened!!!
No… wait!
In the next instant, Makoto's eyes narrowed, and he immediately realized that something wasn't quite right. His desire for battle seemed to have surged.
Had it been influenced by Teacher Unohana's killing intent just now?
Or had the prolonged trials with the Zanpakuto Shinra Bansho unknowingly instilled some kind of primal instinct within him?
Makoto took a deep breath and tried to place his finger into the now white, viscous liquid in the bottle.
A hint of crimson... it almost immediately dispersed within the bottle, as if the liquid inside was the thickest form of plasma.
Something's off… my mental state…
Makoto quickly withdrew his finger and re-capped the bottle. His eyes behind his glasses flashed with deep thought.
Could Teacher Unohana have drugged me?
Did she bring me out here not to investigate the missing souls, but to carry out some kind of workplace bullying?
However, within the blink of an eye, Makoto dismissed this absurd theory. He shifted his suspicions back to Shinra Bansho, his Zanpakuto.
At this moment, Makoto couldn't help but start to question the true purpose of the continuous nightly battles with Shinra Bansho.
A Zanpakuto takes shape alongside the formation of the soul, and its subsequent will, emotions, and thoughts influence its final form and power…
So why had Shinra Bansho mentioned the "incorrect Bankai" and "true power"?
Makoto squinted, recalling the details of his communication and battle with Shinra Bansho in the spiritual realm last night. Combined with the information Teacher Unohana had subtly hinted at, he began to ponder carefully.
A Zanpakuto has its own unique thoughts and emotions. Just like the Zanpakuto Zangetsu in the hands of the future Ichigo Kurosaki, which resists teaching Ichigo the "Final Getsuga Tenshō" because it conflicts with Zangetsu's desire to protect Ichigo.
In other words, something must have gone wrong within me, so Shinra Bansho believes that the Bankai I will form in this state is flawed, thus leading it to reject it…
So… what is the true power? Shinra Bansho had mentioned it countless times, even questioning whether Makoto was deliberately ignoring it, yet it had never actually explained what it was...
And even when battling Shinra Bansho, the ability it used was to control countless trees. Was there a misunderstanding there? If there's something strange about Shinra Bansho, other than its insane fighting and the absurd titles it calls me…
As he thought, Makoto couldn't help but let out a small, suppressed laugh. But then his expression froze slightly, and he muttered to himself.
"Battle? That?? Could it be… this is what Shinra Bansho has been trying to tell me all along?"
At that moment, Unohana's voice broke through his thoughts, and the altitude of the flying Minazuki rapidly began to descend.
"Makoto, we've arrived."
Snapping out of his reverie, Makoto leaned his head forward and looked down. What he saw was a scene of dilapidated houses, with three Shinigami in Shihakusho uniforms from the Tenth Division waiting below.
As Makoto followed Unohana down to the ground, a strange smell, a mix of rot and herbs, wafted into his nose.
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