"Old man, what you mean is..."
Kyoraku Shunsui froze for a moment, then a sharp light suddenly burst out in his eyes.
"No matter how fiercely we fight Rosse's faction, in the end this is still an internal conflict. Once we lay our cards on the table and tell them about Aizen, about that ambition and power that truly threaten the entire Soul Society, with Rosse's personality he would definitely choose to temporarily put aside old grudges and join forces with us to face the real enemy first, right?"
Too many things had happened today, too chaotic, and he had fallen into a mental blind spot for a moment, actually forgetting this most crucial point.
Their conflict with Rosse was a clash of ideals, a struggle for power. It was a completely different matter from Aizen's plot to overturn Soul Society itself.
When a great enemy looms, naturally everyone unites against the outside threat.
But... That excitement had just surged up when Kyoraku Shunsui suddenly deflated like a punctured balloon. He looked at his teacher with some hesitation, as if wanting to speak but stopping himself.
If they took the initiative to seek reconciliation with Rosse, their own side, already at a disadvantage and with its reputation in tatters, would inevitably have to pay a huge price.
Rosse's side would most likely seize the opportunity to make outrageous demands, like asking the Captain-Commander to step down and give up his position.
If such a demand were really made, one that was practically like shitting on someone's head, would his teacher, who valued face more than life itself, really agree?
"Hmph!"
As if seeing through his disciple's little thoughts, the Captain-Commander let out a cold snort. The look he gave Kyoraku Shunsui carried an obvious trace of disappointment.
"Kyoraku, are you thinking that if they force the issue now and demand that this old man step down, this old man would agree for the sake of the greater good?"
"I...", Kyoraku Shunsui lowered his head in shame.
"You must remember this. In the world of Shinigami, so-called righteousness and legitimacy are things meant for the weak."
Yamamoto Shigekuni gently stroked the scabbard of Ryujin Jakka. His voice was calm to a frightening degree.
"Before this old man set down the rules of the Gotei 13, when did Soul Society ever have rules? If there truly were any, they were nothing more than tools used by the Five Great Noble Houses to exploit Rukongai."
"Rules are made by the strong. This old man is the strongest, so this old man is the rule."
He raised his head, his gaze deep as an abyss.
"If, after dealing with that scourge Aizen, that junior called Rosse can truly show capacity and strength that surpass this old man, then what harm is there in handing him the position of Captain-Commander?"
His voice was not loud, yet every word struck solidly.
"It is not that this old man is clinging to this position. It is that for a thousand years, no one has been able to take up this flame. If someone truly can surpass this old man, then it only proves that this old man's blade has truly gone dull, and that these old bones have no reason to keep squatting in this position and making a fool of themselves."
So-called stubborn defense is nothing more than the fact that there is no one to succeed him.
If someone really could defeat him, he would willingly go to Squad Zero and retire there.
"Teacher!"
Hearing these words, Kyoraku Shunsui felt his throat tighten and his eyes grow hot.
He did not see this as the Captain-Commander being broad-minded. Instead, he saw it as a helpless compromise.
If he truly had enough ability, why would the Captain-Commander need to go this far?
In the end, it was still him. Too weak.
He bowed deeply to Yamamoto Shigekuni, remaining bent for a long time without rising.
"I've let you down."
A thousand words turned into a single heavy sigh.
If he were stronger, if he were more capable, why would this old man, who had labored for Soul Society for a thousand years, have to face such an awkward situation of being forced to give up his position in his later years?
Even... Even going to confront Rosse next, it would probably only be possible inside this room, under the protection of Yamamoto Shigekuni's spiritual pressure.
Because only then could they avoid Aizen's all-pervasive gaze.
It was truly powerless.
———
Stepping out of the First Division's heavy wooden doors, the night wind mixed with the lingering smell of scorching from afar rushed toward him.
Kyoraku Shunsui pulled his straw hat down low. The corner of his mouth, usually wearing a carefree smile, was tightly pressed together now. His unfocused eyes reflected the pitch-black night sky over Seireitei, filled with confusion and exhaustion.
Too many things had happened this night.
The world that had once been clear now looked bizarre and distorted in his eyes.
Internal strife, external threats, and his own precarious reputation.
Just as he subconsciously started to move his feet, intending to head toward the Eighth Division, now reduced to ruins.
"Pfft!"
A clear, pleasant girlish laugh, carrying undisguised mockery, suddenly sounded right next to his ear.
"How pitiful. Being toyed with like a fool, spun around until you're dizzy. Just which eye is that old man blind in, to take in a slow and useless guy like you as his disciple?", The girl's voice was like silver bells, but her tone was extremely sharp.
"He probably still hasn't realized it yet, has he? Just how huge a web that bespectacled man called Aizen has woven right under your noses, and how many disgusting things he's done in secret."
"Who's there?"
Kyoraku Shunsui's expression changed sharply. His right hand flew to the hilt of Katen Kyokotsu at his waist.
A sharp spiritual pressure instantly erupted with him at the center, sweeping across the surrounding space like a radar.
He looked around, even extending his perception into nearby shadows, trying to drag out the one who dared to play tricks right in front of the First Division.
At his level, it was impossible for him to have heard wrong, and even more impossible for it to be an illusion.
'Is it Aizen?'
'Did he send something specifically to mock me, now that his plan succeeded?'
Or was it another third party, hidden in the dark and never yet revealed?
No matter which it was, he had already become a skittish bird, and there was no way he would sit and wait for death.
Just as his spiritual pressure was fully unleashed and his nerves were stretched to the limit, the girl's voice rang out again. This time it sounded even more ethereal, as if echoing directly inside his mind.
"Save it. With how you are now, you think you can catch me?"
There was a lofty contempt in that voice. Then the tone shifted, tossing out a place that made Kyoraku Shunsui's heart quake violently.
"If you don't want to keep being a blind fool kept in the dark, if you truly want to understand the truth behind all of this... then take a trip to 'Muken(Infinite Prison).'"
"Someone is waiting for you there."
After leaving behind this baffling statement, the voice vanished completely, like a drop of water merging into the sea.
"Hey! Who are you? Who's in Muken?"
Kyoraku Shunsui roared questions at the empty street, even expanding his spiritual pressure search range. Yet the only response was deathly silence and the chaotic footsteps of patrols in the distance.
No matter how he probed, there was no further reply.
"Muken?"
Kyoraku Shunsui slowly loosened his grip on his sword, his brow deeply furrowed.
The deepest level of the Nest of Maggot, the lowest floor of the Central Underground Prison, the land of utter despair.
Muken. That was a forbidden zone used by Soul Society to imprison criminals who "could not be executed" or were "extremely dangerous."
There was no time, no space, not even any trace of reishi flow there.
Those qualified to be imprisoned in that place were at least vice-captain level serious offenders, with sentences commonly spanning thousands or even tens of thousands of years.
In other words, every single one imprisoned there was an existence that could be called a monster even a thousand years ago.
A trace of hesitation and caution flashed through Kyoraku Shunsui's eyes.
'At a moment like this, who could it be?'
'A prisoner locked away in that lightless hell? Even under absolute sealing, still able to send information to the outside world, even to me, the Captain-Commander's disciple?'
'What a terrifying ability.'
'Could this be another trap laid by Aizen?'
'But...'
Kyoraku Shunsui lifted his head, glanced once at the still brightly lit yet undercurrents-filled First Division, then looked at the pitch-black night.
Whether it was a trap or the truth, it seemed he no longer had the reason or the capital to refuse.
As long as there was even the slightest chance to make things difficult for Aizen, as long as there was even a tiny opportunity to tear away that man's hypocritical mask.
Even if it meant making a deal with evil spirits in hell, he had to take the risk.
"Hah!"
Letting out a long breath of turbid air, Kyoraku Shunsui pressed down the brim of his hat, turned around, and stepped toward that dark entrance leading underground.
'Then let's go see it.'
'Just what exactly is hidden in this hell.'
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