"The one who cut me last time was Yamamoto, okay? It was you guys who died at the hands of that brat."
The white-haired, dark-skinned young man retorted, unwilling to show weakness, a flicker of anger in his eyes.
"I wasn't conscious last time, so it doesn't count!"
Furofushi Saitō said fiercely, as if he wanted to devour the other party alive.
Katori Batsu'unsai frowned and said worriedly, "But if that child isn't here, the Soul Society might be in danger this time."
Her tone revealed deep concern.
Furofushi Saitō looked around.
The enforcers dispatched by Hell this time, in addition to these First Generation Captains, also included the monsters led by the Hell Warden, who was once the King of Hueco Mundo, as well as more than thirty Captain-class Togabito.
Everyone's expression grew serious, seemingly realizing the gravity of the situation.
Furofushi Saitō pouted and said unhappily, "That old man Yamamoto is really something; his Bankai is so powerful, yet he can only use it for such a short time."
"If he could use it for a long time, why would we need to worry about these guys?"
Upon hearing this, several First Generation Captains couldn't help but sigh, a hint of regret flashing in their eyes.
Zanka no Tachi was strong, but unfortunately, this world wasn't strong enough to withstand it for too long.
If it were used for a long time, this world would probably be destroyed by Yamamoto Genryusai before Hell even had to do anything.
Protected by Hell's power, everyone landed steadily on the ground, and a gray-haired man slowly stood up with a sleepy expression.
That was the First Generation Fourth Division Captain, Chigiri Shijima.
He frowned and asked in confusion, "I heard from Shihōin Chika that Zanka no Tachi's ability has been further enhanced, hasn't it?"
"He can store fire within the blade, which allows him to use it for a longer time!"
"Hell's power is endless, what's the use of extending it by a few minutes?"
Furofushi Saitō snorted and replied testily.
Not far away, Yamamoto leaned on his cane, his gaze fixed on the figures appearing in the sky.
Rangiku stood with her hands on her hips, gazing out: "They're still wearing the Gotei 13 haori, are they the former Captains?"
Beside her, Sasakibe Chōjirō couldn't help but sigh with emotion: "Genryūsai-dono, it really is them, still the same as a thousand years ago."
His voice was full of emotion and helplessness.
"Tsk... These troublesome bastards, even after dying, they crawl out to cause me trouble."
Yamamoto shook his head lightly, his words harsh, but a bitter smile played on his lips.
Sasakibe Chōjirō smiled: "Genryūsai-dono, you don't need to worry."
"Isn't Reiji the Captain currently thinking of a solution? Let us trust him."
"Trust him? It'd be good if he didn't cause me any more trouble!"
Yamamoto glanced at Sasakibe Chōjirō and snorted irritably.
This time they were facing Hell; he himself didn't know if he could survive until the end. It would be good if that kid could just save his own life!
Facing Hell, probably only the Soul King's appearance would be able to help.
If that kid could really come up with a good idea to solve this matter, he could have the Captain-Commander position!
Just then, Yamamoto suddenly noticed something strange.
He found that before the fight even began, the opposing side had already started arguing amongst themselves.
A clamor arose from the crowd opposite, seemingly debating something important.
"As the saying goes, a family cannot be without a master for a day, nor a nation without a ruler for a day, and the Gotei 13 cannot be without a Captain-Commander for a day."
Shihoin Chika stood with his back to Yamamoto, facing his former comrades, speaking passionately as if giving a speech:
"Now that Yamamoto's power has waned, as the Captain of the 2nd Division and a former head of one of the Five Great Noble Houses, I should..."
"Should your mother's head! Who do you think you are? I should be the Captain-Commander! I'm the strongest now!"
Furofushi Saitō jumped up and delivered a punch to Shihoin Chika's handsome face.
Shihoin Chika fell to the ground, and Furofushi Saitō, not content, then stepped on his face.
The others ignored Shihoin Chika, but hearing Furofushi Saitō's words, they became displeased.
"Who said you're the strongest? This old man isn't unable to fight!"
"You shorty, get lost! I'm the strongest, I should be the Captain-Commander!"
"Yah ha, you old pervert, you should clear up those dark circles first!"
"Those aren't dark circles, they're profound eyes, a charm belonging to a mature man. What would a brat like you know?!"
Yamamoto: "..."
Watching Furofushi Saitō and Shigyo Nobutsuna wrestling, he felt that even if he didn't intervene, they could probably annihilate themselves.
At this moment, a thin man with glasses and a slicked-back hairstyle, looking serious, stepped forward and stopped the chaotic crowd.
He said in a cold tone, "From a rational and objective perspective, I, Izuhara Kinroku, the Captain of the Third Division, am the strongest and most deserving to be the Captain-Commander."
However, before he finished speaking, he was met with a fierce punch.
"Glasses boy, don't think that just because you wear glasses and act refined, I won't hit you!" Furofushi Saitō said viciously.
Izuhara Kinroku clutched his beaten face, glaring angrily, but did not retaliate.
"Sure enough, it still has to be me. Who told me I have the most seniority?"
Saizō Sakahone said smugly.
"What's the use of seniority? Is your fist hard enough? Look at these muscles."
Uhin Zenjōji showed off his muscles.
"Saw them, a whole block of muscle, so what?! Don't come out and make a fool of yourself!" someone scoffed.
"My sword is not without its sharpness!!" another person shouted, unwilling to be outdone.
Everyone argued, attacking and mocking each other, the scene chaotic.
Yamamoto and Unohana stood aside, watching the farce unfold, and couldn't help but laugh.
The situation was critical, but such a scene still reminded them of past memories.
Although it was an era full of bloodshed, violence, and chaos, when they were together, it wasn't always just fighting and killing.
Just then, Katori Batsu'unsai seemed to have come up with a good idea.
She held her long-handled naginata tightly in her arms, a kind smile on her face.
"Actually, as long as we know who among us is the strongest, isn't that enough?"
The others seemed inspired, their eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Exactly, what's the use of so much nonsense? If you've got guts, let's fight and see who's stronger. What's the point of just talking?"
"That's right, strength is the ultimate truth. Those who don't dare to act should get lost."
Hearing this, Shihoin Chika, who was still being stepped on, also nodded in agreement:
"I think that's a good idea, let's decide on that!"
With that said, everyone drew their Zanpakuto, seemingly ready to start fighting.
However, just then, the skeleton wearing a crown and with a halo behind him, glanced at them sideways.
He gently waved his arm, and a throne entwined with black chains appeared beneath him.
The Skeleton King sat leisurely on the throne, his fingers lightly tapping the armrest.
As the Hell Gate trembled, scarlet light radiated outwards.
Countless golden reishi floated out from it, flying towards those who had come from Hell.
The First Generation Captains instantly fell silent, each standing dumbfounded in place.
Golden skeletal armor gradually formed and accumulated on their bodies.
At this moment, the Shinigami of the Gotei 13 all became expressionless.
After a while, Katori Batsu'unsai looked up, gently pushed her glasses up her nose, and was stunned.
"Oh, this time it didn't completely suppress our consciousness?"
☰