The Kaidō teacher's face contorted with disbelief as the little white mouse leapt off the table and scurried away from the scene.
He watched the mouse escape, then turned with a stiff expression to face the innocent-looking Akira.
"It died?"
Akira nodded.
"And came back to life?"
He nodded again.
The teacher stood frozen, unable to accept this reality that shattered his worldview.
The other academy students looked on in confusion at the two engaged in this bizarre dialogue. Focused on practicing their own Kaidō techniques, they had no idea what had just transpired.
Meanwhile, Aizen, who stood next to Akira, lowered his gaze, a strange light flickering in his eyes.
Although he wasn't particularly interested in Kaidō, his exceptional talent allowed him to easily outperform the other students and even the teacher, despite his half-hearted attitude towards learning.
Death, and rebirth?
The essence of Kaidō is to stimulate cells to achieve a healing effect. The stronger the individual, the more difficult they are to treat.
By the same logic, for test subjects like these white mice — extremely weak creatures — a Shinigami with powerful Reiatsu and profound Kaidō skills could indeed bring them back to life at the moment of death.
But Akira fit neither of these crucial criteria.
Could it be... a Kaidō genius seen only once in a century?
Pondering this, the corners of Aizen's mouth turned up slightly. The more he interacted with this priest, the more he sensed countless secrets hidden within him.
It was like a fog so thick you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. You never knew what scene would appear before you in the mist the next moment.
'You are a well of surprises, Akira!'
"Damn it, how can such an absurd thing exist!" The teacher's eyes were bloodshot as he snatched Aizen's white mouse and slammed it down in front of Akira, "Kisaragi, demonstrate again!"
Akira blinked, his fingers flexing as he effortlessly snapped the white mouse's neck. His right hand then glowed with Kaidō light, enveloping the rigid body.
Because his Reiatsu had reached the level of a Seated Officer, even continuous use of Kaidō wouldn't cause him any strain.
The teacher held his breath, eyes wide, unwilling to miss even the slightest detail.
Reiatsu flow, deviation, errors! Standardized movements morphed — three fingers became two, too far away! A perfectly good basic Kaidō technique had been turned into something unrecognizable by Akira.
Yet even so, the white mouse with its broken neck and lost signs of life came back to life after three seconds.
Could it be that his Kaidō is the true standard?
"Impossible!" Unable to believe the reality before his eyes, the teacher turned and gathered all the white mice from the other students. His voice roared through the classroom, "Again!"
Crack, Crack, Crack—
The endless sound of breaking bones, as if composing a macabre symphony, numbed the students while forcing the Kaidō teacher to face reality.
It was confirmed. This kid hadn't simply memorized the details and essentials of basic Kaidō; from start to finish, no mistake was repeated. He'd perfected it. Just when you thought you'd seen the limit of his abilities, he'd always come up with something new.
Dozens of white mice repeatedly danced on the edge of death. From initial clumsiness to later proficiency, and finally to ease and comfort, Akira's skill progressed.
Watching him perform Kaidō actually gave people the illusion that they could do it too.
When the teacher tried to put this illusion into practice, the white mouse stopped breathing forever, without a hint of life remaining.
"I... I suddenly have something to do." He mumbled, his whole being plunged into gloom. Cradling the dead white mouse, he staggered out of the classroom, "Today's Kaidō lesson will end here..."
Watching the retreating figure in the corridor, the students turned their heads in unison to look at Akira.
For a moment, they gazed at him with awe, as if beholding a divine being!
⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬
That night, in the temporary male dormitory.
The two young men sat upright, facing each other like scientists, secretly exploring the anomalous Kaidō performance.
Akira knew very well that this was the effect of his exclusive Trait, Miraculous Healing. Yet its true essence remained a curiosity. How did it work? What kind of energy did it use? How did the "miracle" simply happen?
Understanding his own cheat could also be the path to becoming stronger. If he could learn to bend the rules of the world to his advantage as his trait did, he could apply it to various other areas, such as Hadō or Bakudō. This would allow him to boost effectiveness even without the corresponding Traits.
However, even as the two experimented on themselves, personally experiencing the wonder of Kaidō, they still couldn't uncover the true reason behind it.
In the end, Aizen could only attribute it to differences in individual talent.
In this world, there would always be some strange geniuses — like him, like Akira, like Unohana of the 4th Division...
⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬
4th Division Barracks. Captain's Office.
"Captain, that's the situation." Kawai, responsible for teaching Kaidō, reported to his superior with a bitter expression, "Resurrection of the dead — it's impossible no matter how you think about it. But that kid actually did it, and with such a non-standard basic Kaidō technique at that."
After listening to his narrative and complaints, a strong interest flickered in Unohana's eyes.
Her impression of Akira was still that of someone determined yet lecherous. Oh, and one more thing — extremely poor. The treatment fee from last time was still on credit.
Who would have thought that this brat would possess such talent in Kaidō?
"Well then, 10th Seat Kawai." Unohana said softly, "I'll take the next Kaidō class."
Hearing this, his face immediately showed difficulty, "Ah, but—"
Before he could finish speaking, an intensely cold, bone-deep killing intent suddenly enveloped him. The temperature in the room seemed to plummet below freezing in an instant.
Kawai shivered, his teeth chattering as he looked with fear at the Captain who wore a gentle smile.
"Do you have any other opinions?" Unohana asked softly, still smiling.
His head immediately shook like a rattle drum, not daring to have even the slightest other opinion. At this moment, he deeply realized how terrifying the Captain was.
No wonder few people dared to cause trouble in the 4th Division. In all likelihood, those who did were probably killed by her.
⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬
The next morning, in the temporary dormitory.
"I came specifically to thank you this time."
Akira got out of bed, frowning as he looked up and down at the suddenly appearing black-haired youth.
'This isn't right. How come there's not even a trace?'
While Sōjun's visit didn't surprise him, the man himself did.
In Akira's experience, anyone who used a genuine Sakahone Shrine talisman would retain at least some trace of the One-Eyed Great God's Reiatsu.
Yet Sōjun showed no hint of it. He appeared unchanged — perhaps even weaker than a typical Shinigami.
Uncomfortable under his scrutiny, Sōjun smiled awkwardly and hastily stated the second purpose of his visit.
"Actually, I wanted to ask if you have any more of those talismans from last time?"
Akira's eyes lit up instantly, a grin spreading across his face.
"Those talismans require a lot of my time, effort, and energy!"
Before Sōjun could react to this statement, Akira's voice rang out, decisive and clear.
"It's gonna cost extra!"
⤫⤬⤫
T/N: If you want more chapters like this, check out my Patreon! I'm constantly translating and the difference will keep getting bigger!
For just $1 you can access all the extra content, and descriptive images, costs only $2!
That's it and happy reading! (-‿◦)
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He had expected the other party to make outrageous demands, like obtaining noble privileges, entering the highest echelons of Soul Society, or becoming an Officer in the Gotei 13.
Unexpectedly, it was just a matter of money.
Akira looked at this serene piggyba— man, who seemed to have money to burn and didn't care about it at all. He faintly heard the arrogant words, "Sorry, money can buy anything."
For such an insufferable rich person, he must be fleeced mercilessly!
"₭10,000, no, ₭100,000!" Akira opened his mouth wide like a lion, instantly multiplying the previous price by a hundred.
"Alright!" Sōjun nodded in agreement, "But you must guarantee that the talismans are exactly the same as before. Also, after-sales service needs to be provided."
Seeing how readily the other party agreed, Akira suddenly doubted if he had asked for too little.
However, after a moment's hesitation, he didn't go back on his word. It's not every day you come across such a sucker. If he let this one get away, he'd be the one losing out.
"No problem!" He thumped his chest loudly, "For after-sales service, just come to me or go to the local shrine in the 76th District of East Rukongai, Sakahone. As for the talismans, there are only ten left in stock. How many would you like, young master Mone— Oh, I mean, young master Kuchiki?"
Sōjun looked suspiciously at the youth before him, feeling that this guy seemed to have wanted to say something very offensive just now.
"I'll take them all." He pondered, "As for the money, I'll have my butler bring it this afternoon."
Akira nodded, then flipped onto the bed.
Under the astonished gazes of Sōjun and Aizen, he pulled out ten talismans from under the mattress, inside the pillowcase, from a corner of the blanket, inside his shoes, and even from Aizen's bed.
Looking at his overturned mattress, Aizen's eye twitched, suddenly feeling the urge to draw his sword.
Despite his vigilance and superior strength compared to Akira, he hadn't noticed the talismans hidden in his own bed.
This guy is really something else...
As Sōjun took the crumpled talismans, considering these hiding spots, he briefly contemplated returning them.
"Hold on, one more question." Akira raised his right hand, index finger pointing skyward, "How was the previous talisman used up?"
Sōjun paused, pondered for a moment, then smiled, "It's not really a secret. You're aware I'm the Kuchiki family heir, right?"
Akira nodded, his curiosity piqued.
"Soul Society isn't as peaceful as it seems on the surface. In its dark, neglected corners, countless conflicts and wars rage on." Sōjun's expression grew serious, "To gain power, both noble factions and rebel groups outside the nobility wage ruthless wars, disregarding casualties."
"Beyond the Gotei's Shinigami, many powerful unaffiliated beings in Soul Society serve these shadow factions. To quickly boost my strength and lighten my father's burdens, I recently entered a rebel battlefield. Just as an enemy ambush nearly pierced my heart, the talisman activated. Its pattern appeared at the battlefield's center, releasing a sea of mist that instantly killed thirty-seven rebel Shinigami — including one as strong as a high-ranking Seated Officer."
Akira stroked his chin, deep in thought. No one knew the talismans' limits better than he did.
Protecting the wearer from illness and disaster might be achievable, but killing thirty-seven Shinigami, including a Seated Officer? That seemed impossible. Unless...
"Can you describe what the dead looked like?" He suddenly asked.
Sōjun was taken aback, then frowned as he recalled, "Scarred face, average build..."
"No, no, I don't mean their appearance. What did the corpses look like after death?" Akira interrupted.
"After death?" Sōjun paused, "Mummies. It was as if some force had drained the blood and Reiatsu from their bodies."
Hearing this, Akira finally understood what had happened. The talisman itself didn't possess such powerful abilities — but that didn't mean the One-Eyed God lacked them.
When it appeared on the battlefield, the cruel and bloody environment became a natural sacrificial ground. The dead became offerings, dedicating everything to Mimihagi!
"This is really..." He shook his head in amazement, "A path I never imagined."
"Is there a problem?" Sōjun asked, puzzled.
"Not at all!" Akira said decisively, "There's no one more suitable for these ten talismans than you. However, I need to clarify one point: the talismans will show different effects when triggered in different environments. Use them with caution, young man!"
Sōjun left, confused.
Despite his repeated questions, Akira didn't reveal the true meaning of his last words, only instructing him to keep one talisman for himself.
"Sōsuke, I truly am a business genius!" After seeing off the rich fool, Akira snapped his fingers proudly and boasted, "Let's go, our target is the Academy cafeteria! Today, it's my treat!"
Aizen shook his head helplessly; some people really couldn't hide their emotions. Joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness were all written on his face.
But this kind of person seems quite suitable to be a friend...
⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬
After breakfast, Akira and Aizen arrived at the classroom together. The first class of the day was Kaidō again.
Akira assumed that after a night's rest, Kawai (the teacher) would have adjusted his mindset. After all, he was an elite Shinigami — a high-ranking Seated Officer of the 4th Division.
Placing his textbooks on the desk, he began idly looking around, waiting for the teacher's arrival.
Despite his innate talent in this branch of Kidō, thanks to his exclusive trait Miraculous Healing, he still needed to learn Kaidō to fully harness this ability.
However, long after the bell had rung, there was still no sign of the teacher.
Just as he was wondering if Kawai hadn't recovered from yesterday's shock, a familiar yet strange figure slowly walked past the window in the corridor.
Akira rubbed his eyes in disbelief. When he recognized the person, his eyes widened, and he involuntarily drew in a sharp breath, muttering to himself in astonishment:
"Could it be... Has the 4th Division's finances become so tight that they've come to the Academy to collect debts?!"
⤫⤬⤫
T/N: If you want more chapters like this, check out my Patreon! I'm constantly translating and the difference will keep getting bigger!
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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