Kisuke extended his right hand forward, gathering a large amount of Reishi in his palm that erupted into intense flames, forming a massive fireball.
Seeing this, Marenoshin nodded in satisfaction.
It was indeed impressive — both the speed of execution and power were noteworthy. Even he couldn't have performed better than this fighter.
As expected, Akira was right. Kisuke was truly a rare talent.
BOOM!
The intense heat left a scorched mark on the training ground's floor, the smell of burning spreading everywhere.
Seeing this, the observing members of the 2nd Division showed surprised expressions. They hadn't expected such a skilled fighter to be hidden among the regular squad members.
Wait. What was that young man doing?!
When everyone noticed Akira, their pupils contracted, and even Marenoshin's expression changed as he instinctively moved to intervene.
But it was too late. The Hadō struck his body directly, explosive flames instantly engulfing him.
Before anyone could cry out in alarm, a completely unscathed figure walked slowly out of the flames, grinning fiercely at Kisuke.
"Show me your full power, Kisuke."
The corners of Kisuke's eyes and mouth twitched simultaneously — was it too late to surrender now?
He didn't want to fight monsters; someone could die.
The Shinigami watching from the side were dumbfounded. Despite their rich combat experience and encounters with many talented warriors, Akira had shown them what true diversity among species meant.
So Shinigami could tank a Shakkahō head-on!
⤫ Hadō #32: Ōkasen ⥤ Yellow Fire Flash! ⤬
⤫ Hadō #33: Sōkatsui ⥤ Blue Fire, Crash Down! ⤬
Gritting his teeth, Kisuke released two consecutive Hadō, incorporating advanced techniques of Twofold Incantation (Nijū Eishō) and Spoken-After Incantation (Kōjutsu Eishō).
Everyone present immediately noticed his impressive display of skill. The 2nd Division Shinigami now clearly understood the extent of his abilities.
He was at least at the level of a Senior Seated Officer!
Marenoshin's expression grew grave. It was his oversight that such talent had gone undiscovered within the squad. He would need to thoroughly examine every squad member from now on.
The blue explosive flames, wrapped in cherry-colored shock waves, swept across the floor, leaving a black scorch mark.
"Now that's more like it."
Akira raised his sword upward, displaying exquisite Zanjutsu as a silvery-white arc reflected before him, like a full moon illuminating all directions.
⤫ Jigoku Tsuki Hakai ⥤ Hellish Moon Destruction! ⤬
Many had misconceptions about him since he hadn't used Zanjutsu in so long. In truth, his style could be both graceful and elegant.
The blade's light slashed downward, splitting the double Hadō in two and sending them crashing into the floor on both sides.
Akira closed in, sweeping his Zanpakutō horizontally. Blade light trailed behind as Reiatsu burst forth, cutting cross-wise and leaving deep sword marks in the floor.
The aura was fierce, creating a suffocating atmosphere.
Yet surprisingly, Kisuke didn't immediately fall. Instead, he appeared composed, even managing counterattacks during the brief gaps between Akira's strikes.
Though his counterattacks couldn't inflict any meaningful damage.
"Awaken…"
⤫ Shikai: Benihime ⥤ Initial Release: Crimson Princess! ⤬
Red light bloomed as a crimson glow flashed across Kisuke's Zanpakutō, subtly altering its form.
Most significantly, his Reiatsu surged, nearly matching his opponent's level.
But even with his full power released, Akira's dominance only grew more terrifying. His overwhelmingly fierce sword attacks expanded like a relentless storm.
Silver blade light and red sword pressure crossed paths — the latter shattering on contact, completely powerless.
⤫ Kamisori, Benihime ⥤ Razor, Crimson Princess! ⤬
Crimson sword pressure erupted forth, carrying powerful Reiatsu in a direct slash.
CLANG!
The sound of clashing metal echoed through the training ground.
Facing the unwavering Akira, Kisuke's heart skipped a beat. Unable to avoid this fight, he hadn't held back at all, hoping to prevent that crazy man from challenging him again on a whim.
For a permanent solution, he'd been willing to reveal some of his power.
But he hadn't expected that even at full strength, he would be so thoroughly dominated—without a single chance to fight back throughout the entire match.
⤫ Chikasumi no Tate ⥤ Blood Mist Shield! ⤬
⤫ Tenrin Kōken ⥤ Celestial Steel Fist! ⤬
Bang!
The Blood Mist Shield shattered under Akira's single punch.
⤫ Nake, Benihime ⥤ Sing, Crimson Princess! ⤬
Countless crimson light arrows burst forth, only to be blocked effortlessly by his Zanjutsu.
⤫ Shibari, Benihime ⥤ Crimson Princess of Binding! ⤬
The blade emitted web-like black Reiatsu to bind Akira, but he tore through it with brute force before the subsequent fire orbs could connect.
Despite his unassuming physique, Akira's Spiritual Body possessed terrifying strength. Neither hastily executed Hadō nor Zanpakutō techniques could breach his defenses.
Each time Kisuke blocked his sword strikes, overwhelming force transmitted through the blade. After just a few clashes, Kisuke's arms had gone numb.
It was beyond overwhelming.
Finally, under the relentless assault, Kisuke collapsed to the ground, frantically waving his hands.
"No more, I surrender!" Benihime lay stuck in the floor as he trembled, exhaustion evident across half his body.
Victory had never been within his reach.
Akira calmly retrieved his scabbard from the wall, sheathed his sword, adjusted his appearance, and approached Kisuke.
For him, this level of combat had barely qualified as a warm-up. Still, given the acceptable performance, he decided to be lenient.
"Not bad, not bad, this level of strength is sufficient." He grabbed his paperwork machi— ahem, I mean — his brand new colleague's shoulders and lifted him from the ground, "I'm satisfied with your performance, now let's talk about your reward."
At those words, Kisuke's heart nearly stopped.
The last time Akira mentioned rewards, he had revealed his bureaucratic nature, presenting mountains of paperwork with a one-day deadline. After such a display, who knew what scheme he had planned this time.
He was about to refuse, but Akira cut him off.
"From today on, you're my 11th Division Lieutenant!"
Kisuke: "?"
This wasn't merely terrifying — it was horrifying!
How could he, a mere Shinigami Officer, possibly deserve to be the 11th Division Lieutenant?!
"This isn't really appropriate, is it?" Kisuke grimaced under the heavy pressure of his hand.
"What's appropriate or not appropriate about it?" Akira waved dismissively, "If I say it's fine, it's fine. Lieutenant appointments don't need approval from Central 46, nor do we need to consult old man Yamamoto. Besides, your strength barely passes, and your wisdom is second only to mine. For the position of Lieutenant, no one suits it better than you, Kisuke!"
Seeing no way to refuse, Kisuke could only manage a smile more pained than tears.
He had truly fallen into a den of thieves. His miserable future stretched before him.
⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬
West Rukongai, 1st District.
Flourishing Entertainment District, Magic Mouth Tavern.
"Senior Brother Shunsui, is it really okay to bring me here without Lieutenant Lisa knowing?"
Akira gazed at the rippling sake in his cup, anticipation gleaming in his eyes.
Since coming to this world, he'd rarely indulged in alcohol. The few bottles of sake he received from sign-ins were offered as sacrifices to Mimihagi. From its reactions, the One-Eyed God seemed to quite enjoy these offerings.
Given Mimihagi's help, Akira had taken to keeping all sake and similar items aside for future offerings.
Well, as long as the boss is happy.
Shunsui stroked his stubbly chin, "Well, if you don't tell and I don't tell, who's going to know? Little brother, don't be so uptight. Balance in life is the right approach."
He beckoned, and a beautiful geisha in a kimono came to his side, respectfully pouring him sake.
"Besides, your senior brother is treating, what are you afraid of?" Shunsui took a small sip and chuckled, "Plus, this is the most luxurious tavern in Rukongai. There'll be performances by the oiran later."
"That won't work." Akira shook his head, "I probably won't be able to watch tonight."
"Why?" Shunsui looked up, startled.
"I have plans to view the moon with Sister Hana."
"Sister Hana?" Shunsui's puzzlement turned to shock as realization dawned, "You don't mean... Captain Unohana?!"
Akira nodded, appreciating his goodwill but accepting it only in spirit.
The sake was good, and the geisha were beautiful — but they were too soft and delicate.
In comparison, Unohana suited him better.
Beautiful and strong, once she got into the zone, she was even fiercer than him — truly worthy of being called the first Kenpachi.
"You can fool your senior brother, just don't fool yourself." Shunsui laughed, patting his shoulder, "If you'd said you were going moon-viewing with one of the Shihōin girls, I wouldn't have doubted it at all. But if you're talking about Captain Unohana..."
He shook his head, clearly disbelieving.
Akira didn't say anything more.
After sampling the sake and finding it to his liking, he packed up two more bottles to take with him, charged everything to his dear older brother's tab, and left the Magic Mouth Tavern.
Watching his retreating figure, Shunsui thoughtfully rubbed his rough chin.
⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬
4th Division, Training Ground.
Heavy, viscous killing intent permeated the spacious grounds, as if piles of corpses and seas of blood lay within. Bone-chilling murderous air filled the space freely.
When the sound of a sword being drawn rang out, Unohana moved.
The white figure glided across the floor, clothes billowing, and when steel met steel, brilliant sparks flew.
Akira held his breath, focusing intently as he drew his sword to meet the attack. He started with a reverse diagonal slash, perfectly executing the Death Sword Style with hints of his own Death Slayer Style.
Seeing this, a hint of joy flickered in Unohana's gentle gaze.
From initially barely managing to parry, to fighting steadily, and now reaching an equal match — truly worthy opponents — his progress was visible to the naked eye.
Shinigami have extremely long lifespans, so training in any aspect is measured in years.
For example, achieving Shikai takes several decades or longer. Shinigami with poor talent might die without ever knowing their Zanpakutō's name.
As for Bankai, that's even more difficult. Any Shinigami who can master Bankai deserves to be recorded in Soul Society's history and documented in textbooks.
So talent like Akira's was already quite extraordinary.
Whether in Zanjutsu, Reiatsu, or other aspects, his performance could be called once in a hundred years.
Unohana smiled slightly, her fair hands gripping her curved Zanpakutō, and as she pointed her toes lightly, she remarked.
"How delightfully exciting. But with your level of skill, I suppose I don't need to hold back anymore?"
Looking at the smile that concealed killing intent behind its gentleness, a chill ran up Akira's spine as survival instinct spread frantically through his skull.
The momentary blur nearly made his entire consciousness submit to that terrifying killing intent.
The next moment, the white figure flashed by silently, appearing before him. Reverse-gripping her Zanpakutō, she slashed toward his neck.
The movement was gentle and soft, seemingly without threat, like a lover's tender caress.
But what Akira actually sensed was ice-cold killing intent at its peak. Swift and fast — if not for his Danger Instinct's early warning, this strike would have severed his throat.
Unlike their usual sparring, under the moonlight, Unohana seemed to have unsealed herself, letting her killing intent flow freely.
Bang!
The blade was instantly blocked.
⤫ Jigoku Kumo Wakatsu ⥤ Hellish Cloud Parting! ⤬
Akira cleared his mind of all distractions, focusing solely on countering her masterful swordplay.
Through the shimmering air, he raised both arms high, his blade gleaming as it cut an arc that caught the silver moonlight.
The unfinished curve hung suspended in the moonlit air, cleaving through Reiatsu before meeting Unohana's Zanpakutō.
Brilliant sparks erupted!
Her expression brightened with battle-joy, her braid beginning to unravel as deep red Reiatsu clung to her form like blood plasma.
The killing intent froze the very marrow of one's bones!
⤫ Jigoku Akuma Kiri ⥤ Hellish Demon Cutter! ⤬
In one fluid motion, Akira's blade unleashed a tempest of the Death Sword Style, releasing countless dazzling techniques. His blade's radiance pierced the darkness, outshining even the moon above.
Pure delight flashed in Unohana's eyes as she found herself matched against a worthy opponent.
Their clash escalated in ferocity. Raw killing intent saturated the air as blade-light scattered in all directions.
Splat—
The sound of torn flesh echoed across the training ground as blood spattered Unohana's cheek, painting crimson patterns across her snow-white skin.
Watching him fight on despite his wounds, her lips curved into a smile as she whispered:
"I'm so grateful... To witness your growth, time and time again..."
⤫⤬⤫
T/N: If you want more chapters like this, check out my Patreon! Take a look at my other translations too, you might like them!
For just $1 you can access all the extra content, and descriptive images, costs only $2!
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While researching a new technology, she had missed several major events in Soul Society — including the once-in-a-million-years spectacle of eliminating Tsunayashiro.
To vent her frustration, she summoned Mayuri, her research group's top member, overnight. She loaded him with multiple research tasks, forcing him to work non-stop like a machine.
Naturally, he protested — not because of the workload, but because Senjumaru had disrupted his research plans.
As his direct superior, she knew exactly how to torment him. Simply assigning research would make him happy and absorbed. But repeatedly disrupting his planned schedule? That would make him break down and curse, giving her the perfect excuse to beat him thoroughly.
The best way to vent frustration is to see someone more miserable than yourself.
With her promotion to the Zero Division approaching, Mayuri was her perfect stress relief tool. She had limited chances left to use him, so this one had to count.
Senjumaru tapped her chin, wondering if she'd forgotten anything lately.
Just then, an overbearing Reiatsu invaded the Shutara Research Institute's premises.
She was somewhat surprised when she sensed who had arrived.
"Woman, I've come for revenge!"
As someone who held grudges, Akira believed in settling scores immediately — unless he couldn't win.
Fresh from gaining Unohana's approval, his confidence soared. He saw this as the perfect chance to wash away his previous humiliation from the Captain's Haori application.
The sound of wooden clogs approached, and a figure materialized in the empty space before them.
Senjumaru stood there, pale complexion highlighting her bright red lips. She wore a slight smile, her eyes gleaming with anticipation — her mood lifting at the sight of her punching bag delivering itself to her door.
"Welcome, welcome, what a rare guest indeed." Her smile deepened as she gazed at the familiar young face, as if admiring a priceless treasure, "We'll discuss revenge later. I happen to have some research that needs your cooperation."
Akira was stunned for a moment.
Before he could speak, Senjumaru continued, "I'm not a petty person. If you help, I can make you a custom Shihakushō according to your specifications."
At these words, Akira felt tempted.
While other Shinigami's Shihakushō served as everyday wear, his was merely a consumable item — one fight meant one destroyed uniform.
Though not a luxury item, constantly changing clothes was tiresome. If the Shihakushō could repair itself using Reiatsu like certain overpowered Bankai, that would be wonderful.
And if it could have additional abilities added? Even better.
As he considered the possibilities, his orange eyes brightened like glowing bulbs.
"Tell me more." He said, his vengeful intentions instantly forgotten.
Senjumaru smiled slightly, took his hand, and led him to the institute's reception room.
Under her control, the white steel floor split down the middle, smoothly raising a tea table, chairs, and a complete tea set.
These high-tech facilities left Akira dumbfounded. While other Division barracks remained stuck in the ancient warring states period, this place was already using future technology?
Thinking of his Captain's Barracks with its straw hut-like structure, he narrowed his eyes.
No way. Whatever others have, we must have too — and it must be better than hers!
Time to exploit Kisuke again!
"First, do you know my true identity?" Senjumaru sat opposite him, gracefully pouring tea as her lips curved into a smile.
Akira pondered for a moment before answering, "A crazy lady who lusts after my body?"
Senjumaru: "?"
Her blood pressure rose. The skeletal arm holding the teacup nearly splashed the tea in his face.
"I am the creator of the Shihakushō, a Zero Division candidate, and soon-to-be Royal Guard member in the Soul King's Palace!" She tilted her head back like a swan, revealing her pale neck, her expression suffused with pride.
Usually, others would show shocked expressions upon learning about the Zero Division.
Though this boy was rather thick-headed, surely he must understand its importance?
"Oh."
Senjumaru: "?"
She suddenly felt Akira wasn't as pleasing to look at as before.
"Are you not surprised at all?"
"Surprised about what?"
"I'm a Zero Division candidate!"
"Why should I care?!" Akira picked up the teacup, downed it in one gulp, then spat out the tea leaves.
Not tasty — not as good as when the old man make it.
Seeing this, Senjumaru took a deep breath, suppressing her rising anger as she tried to get the conversation back on track.
"The help I need is related to the Shihakushō."
Akira nodded, waiting for her to continue.
"The conditions for promotion to the Zero Division aren't determined by combat strength, but by creating something of great significance to Soul Society." Senjumaru explained softly, having regained her composure.
In her eyes, since Akira was a disciple of the Genryū Style and had accomplished much for Soul Society, these near-secrets needed no concealment. Besides, even if she didn't tell him, Genryūsai would.
"I received an invitation from the Soul King's Palace for inventing the Shihakushō. But before joining the Zero Division, I want to develop an advanced form of my creation."
Akira looked bewildered.
Seeing his expression, Senjumaru continued.
"The advanced form — the Ultimate Garment — is a combat technique created through Reiatsu manipulation and needlework. Once completed, enemies will instantly become my fallen souls, and it can be developed even further." She frowned, "But that's for later. Right now, the Ultimate Garment still lacks several crucial data points. I need someone to help with experiments to collect data for improvements."
Akira pondered thoughtfully.
He actually held no ill feelings toward this pretty woman. Apart from finding her somewhat eccentric and oddly fixated on his body, she had few flaws.
If he could help with minimal effort, why not?
"Alright, I agree!" He accepted.
Senjumaru nodded with satisfaction, a slight smile gracing her delicate face.
Her golden skeletal arms clapped gently behind her with a crisp sound. The ground cracked open, the tea table sank slowly, and massive, precise instruments and equipment rose continuously from underground.
Heavy, thick Reiatsu flooded the room. Feeling this enormous pressure, Akira briefly suspected she was trying to drown him in it. It seemed excessive.
Her Reiatsu made Takeda Chishi and Kōga's seem insignificant in comparison — they weren't even in the same league.
"The entire process has three steps. Just do as I say."
As she spoke, her golden skeletal arms began operating various instruments. Her Reiatsu, vast as an ocean, surged like waves.
From the ceiling cascaded strips of vibrant, colorful fabric, their varied patterns transforming the laboratory into an ocean of colors.
The curtains fell. Like a deity controlling fabric, Senjumaru made the cloth dance freely with her thoughts, creating a fairy tale world unique to silk.
"Release your Reiatsu shield."
The elegant, gentle voice whispered by Akira's ear, and in the next moment, a thick Reiatsu shield materialized at his side.
Bang!
A heavy collision resounded as a strip of fabric wrapped around his body, fine needles dancing across it. In an instant, a pure white garment enveloped him.
Then the garment constricted!
The Reiatsu shield groaned under the strain, lasting barely three seconds before shattering with a boom into countless points of scattered light.
A slight stinging sensation prickled his skin, like the touch of a hedgehog.
Senjumaru stood among the equipment, brows furrowed as she watched the data changes on the screen. Her golden fingers flew across the keyboard like a concert pianist protecting their masterpiece.
"Reiatsu depth index stable, metamorphosis law showing aberration, three-point-six-zero index needs forward adjustment..." She analyzed the collected data, quickly deriving two improvement plans for the Ultimate Garment, "One more time!"
She took a deep breath and looked at Akira again.
The young man spread his hands, unbothered. This request posed no challenge for him.
Her demands continued endlessly, one after another.
Yet Akira grew drowsy during the monotonous experiments, his eyelids becoming heavier by the minute.
It was mind-numbingly boring. All he had to do was maintain Reiatsu shields — break and remake, remake and break — in an endless cycle.
Eventually, he became so numb to the fabric's attacks that they ceased to cause him any pain.
⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬
After what seemed like ages, he was shaken awake to find Senjumaru's smiling face looking down at him.
"Young man, thank you for your help. The Ultimate Garment's structure is essentially complete. Now, let's discuss your compensation."
At this, Akira instantly perked up and listed his requirements for the Shihakushō.
"Self-cleaning and auto-repair are the main functions?" Senjumaru nodded slightly, "That's not difficult, but before sewing, I'll need to measure your body again. After all, young men like you grow quickly."
Akira: "..."
He finally understood — this crazy woman had set him up just to get her hands on his body!
He hadn't even gotten revenge for last time, and now he definitely wouldn't let her have her way.
He shook his head in refusal, but before he could speak, that ocean-like Reiatsu crashed down, instantly restraining him. The fabric suspended from the ceiling transformed into a massive torrent, flooding the room.
Yet suddenly, terrifying heat surged within the torrent. Deep purple overtook the colorful world as countless fabric strips turned to ash in the flames, beyond any hope of repair.
A battle to defend his dignity had begun!
Akira felt confident that this time he wouldn't fail from Reiatsu exhaustion on his path to victory.
The exclusive Trait Reiryoku Surge would be his key to turning defeat into victory!
But then Senjumaru noticed something unusual, a flash of surprise crossing her eyes.
Despite the short time since their last encounter, his strength had improved dramatically. His resistance was particularly fierce, even giving her pause.
His growth was evident in his Reiatsu, Spiritual Body strength, and other aspects.
"Well, I don't like young men with too much endurance."
Like heaven itself collapsing, terrifying Reiatsu erupted. The room's gravity multiplied instantly, with Reiatsu solidifying and pressing in from all directions.
Akira let out a muffled grunt.
His Reiatsu was indeed his weakness — with mere Rank 4 in the Spirit Class, he would be suppressed even facing Rōjūrō. Yet due to his powerful Spiritual Body, he usually ignored Reiatsu suppression.
This level of oppressive force he had only experienced when facing Genryūsai or the corrupted Unohana.
⤫ Bankai: Shatatsu Karagara Shigarami no Tsuji ⥤ Final Release: Crossing of Sahā's Gate, Kāla's Corpse and Piercing Entanglements! ⤬
The moment these words fell, Akira's vision went dark. He found himself in another world, countless stars shining in the sky above.
A deity-like figure stood at the forefront. Golden skeletal arms merged behind her as massive golden machinery operated throughout this realm. The sound of turning gears and cascading red fabric added an otherworldly brilliance to this dark dimension.
Looking at the terrifying scene before him, he slowly typed out a question mark.
Was this woman's obsession with his body really worth using Bankai just to strip his clothes?
{T/N: Tip for the unknown reader, she's always with the Shikai, that's why she just pulled the Bankai out of nowhere.}
He attempted one final struggle, but as the red fabric coiled around him, the heaven-shattering Reiatsu descended in full force.
Suffocating pressure instantly enveloped his entire body. Even with Akira going all out — igniting his Elemental Transformation and releasing all his Reiatsu — he lasted less than a minute.
Then, darkness claimed him as consciousness slipped away.
⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬
"Teacher!!"
Akira's voice echoed through the 1st Division.
Genryūsai, who had been writing, twitched at the corner of his eye. Veins bulged briefly on his forehead before subsiding.
After so many similar interruptions, he should have been used to it by now.
Still, the customary scolding couldn't be skipped.
"You fool! You're already a Captain, yet you show no proper conduct. What kind of example does such recklessness set?" He set down his brush and continued, "To temper your character, I happen to have a task for you!"
Akira: "?"
Something didn't seem quite right here.
⤫⤬⤫
T/N: If you want more chapters like this, check out my Patreon! Take a look at my other translations too, you might like them!
For just $1 you can access all the extra content, and descriptive images, costs only $2!
That's it and happy reading! (-‿◦)
https://www.patreon.com/mrblackwing
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