Chapter 163: Kirio's Report
"Foolish noble, your time has come!!"
In the spacious courtyard, Satoru shouted loudly and raised his sword to strike.
Sōjun Kuchiki maintained a grave expression, gripping his sword with both hands while constantly adjusting his angle to meet Satoru's attacks.
At first, he could still occasionally counterattack.
But soon, he realized the person before him was practically a perpetual motion machine.
From beginning to end, Satoru's sword never lightened even slightly.
Those storm-like attacks resembled wielding a great hammer more than Zanpakutō swings.
Satoru held his sword with one hand while the other hand idly watched the spectacle.
Meanwhile, Sōjun had been gripping his sword with both hands the entire time.
Even so, under Satoru's frenzied assault, his arms began growing numb and sore.
Finally, as Satoru executed an upward sweep, he could no longer maintain his grip. His Zanpakutō spun through the air before embedding itself in the ground nearby.
Looking at his flown-away sword, Sōjun couldn't help but smile wryly.
Now that he had relaxed, he realized both his arms were trembling continuously, clearly having reached their limit.
He looked at Satoru.
Because he wore the loose Shinigami Uniform, Satoru didn't appear particularly strong outwardly—just an upright youth.
Yet his strength far surpassed those super muscular men in the Sixth Division.
This guy... is he a monster?
Sōjun shook his head helplessly.
"You've grown stronger again, Satoru."
"Using only half your strength to completely overwhelm me... I'm really starting to wonder if you've been hiding your true power since the day you enrolled?"
Satoru casually sheathed his sword and proudly crossed his arms.
"Exactly! I, Satoru, have been an exceptionally skilled swordsman since the moment I was born."
"I just never showed it because I didn't want to discourage you worthless young masters of Seireitei."
Sōjun: "..."
Seeing Satoru's smug face, he suddenly felt he had probably overthought things.
"Oh, one more thing."
Satoru grinned: "At first, I planned to use half my strength, but after testing you a few times, I thought the fight would end too quickly at that level. So when we really got started, I actually only used forty percent."
"?"
Seeing Satoru didn't seem to be joking, Sōjun couldn't help feeling numb.
Retracting his previous thought—Satoru wasn't a monster.
If monsters saw him, they'd have to bow in respect.
After all, when fighting him, Satoru had used his weakest skill—swordsmanship.
If they competed in Hakuda, Satoru could probably defeat him using only ten or twenty percent of his power...
As he contemplated this, Satoru approached, lifted his arm and gave it a squeeze.
Then reached out and patted his buttocks.
Finally, gave his calf a light kick.
Sōjun: "?"
He cast a puzzled gaze, unsure what was wrong with Satoru.
Then he saw Satoru sigh and shake his head:
"Sōjun, this won't do."
"These past few months, the time you've spent training in the dojo is probably far less than the time you've spent 'training' in your room, right?"
"I was wondering how someone of your strength could lose so quickly, but now I finally understand."
"You've been weakened by wine and women!"
Sōjun was momentarily stunned: "I rarely drink..."
Before he could finish speaking, he suddenly stopped, his face turning red.
Satoru had only mentioned two things, and since he had denied one, the reason for his slow progress in strength became quite clear.
Though somewhat ashamed, he had to admit Satoru was right - he really should exercise more restraint.
After taking a bath, the two went to the main hall of the Kuchiki residence.
Ginrei was sitting inside, reading a book.
When he saw them enter, his gaze became somewhat complicated.
Although he hadn't watched their sparring session in the courtyard earlier, through his Reiatsu perception, it was almost the same as having seen it.
Even though he had mentally prepared for Satoru's strength, comparing him directly with his own genius son still made him sigh with emotion.
He didn't even know what words to use to describe Satoru anymore.
Considering the young man's capabilities, he decided to temporarily overlook those derogatory remarks about nobles made during the fight.
Satoru sat in a chair.
Beside him, an elder from the Shihōin Clan had already been waiting there.
Sōjun also sat on Satoru's side.
Ginrei couldn't help but roll his eyes inwardly.
What they were going to discuss today was the sale of gaming consoles in the Soul Society.
Through the fierce competition between Kisuke and Mayuri, the first-generation gaming console from Satoru Technical Bureau, LSP1, had finally been successfully developed.
Upon hearing this news, Satoru was overjoyed.
He immediately went to the Shihōin Clan and signed a cooperative manufacturing contract.
Gaming consoles weren't much fun if you were the only one playing.
True enjoyment came from having a large community of players together.
As for the network... while the Soul Society didn't have the modern internet, similar effects could be achieved using Kidō.
This minor task could be left to Sōsuke.
The Shihōin Clan wasn't particularly interested in Satoru's gaming console.
The older generation couldn't grasp its appeal, and while the younger generation was quite interested, they had no say in decisions and couldn't help even if they wanted to.
In the end, it was Yoruichi who made the final decision, demanding that the elders fully cooperate, thus finalizing the contract.
With the downfall of the Tsunayashiro Clan, Yoruichi's position in the Shihōin Clan had become increasingly secure.
She was naturally strong-willed and confident.
Even without anyone's help, she would eventually gain complete control over the Shihōin Clan.
Moreover, she had Satoru by her side.
If any elder thought she was young and easy to bully, or refused to accept her authority, Satoru's fists were no joke.
While manufacturing was settled, sales required consultation with the Kuchiki Clan.
Both in Seireitei and Rukongai, markets were strictly regulated by the noble families. Anyone who didn't follow the rules and arbitrarily encroached on others' territories would be seen as declaring war.
Like what Satoru had previously done to the Tsunayashiro - that was considered breaking all pretenses.
Under normal circumstances, no one would do such a thing.
Therefore, to promote the gaming console as quickly as possible, they needed the support of the Kuchiki Clan.
Before coming, this Shihōin elder had received a strict ultimatum from the clan head.
Either secure a cooperation agreement with the Kuchiki Clan, or don't bother returning!
At this, the elder felt utterly helpless.
Fortunately, he was usually in charge of trade and had considerable experience in business cooperation.
Although even he didn't particularly like this "gaming console," as a merchant, wasn't it standard practice to sell something he personally considered junk as a treasure?
He worked overnight to draft his pitch, anticipating every possible question and preparing to persuade the Kuchiki Clan with his silver tongue.
Taking a deep breath, he stood up and began:
"Since everyone is here, I'll briefly explain that this cooperation…"
"No need to explain. I agree."
Ginrei spoke calmly.
"?"
The Shihōin elder froze, mouth agape, looking as if he had seen a ghost.
"I will notify the Kuchiki Clan to designate all affiliated shops as sales outlets for Lord Satoru's product."
"We will take only half of the profits."
"???"
The Shihōin elder's eyes nearly popped out of his head.
Had his presence here today been completely unnecessary?
He instinctively wanted to ask Ginrei if he was in his right mind.
But before he could speak, Satoru grinned.
"Thank you, old man!"
Ginrei nodded.
He picked up his teacup and took a small sip.
Seeing this, Satoru was slightly taken aback.
They hadn't discussed anything yet—was he being dismissed already?
Just then, he suddenly noticed a hint of weariness in Ginrei's eyes.
Satoru narrowed his eyes.
He studied Ginrei more closely.
At first glance, nothing seemed amiss, but upon closer inspection… the old man seemed to carry an air of decline.
Take Yamamoto, for example—though also old and much older than Ginrei—he never had this aura of decline.
Sometimes, Satoru even wondered if Yamamoto could live for another thousand or two thousand years.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something.
Then he realized he didn't really have anything to say.
After glancing at Sōjun Kuchiki sitting beside him, Satoru remained silent for a moment before rising to take his leave.
...
...
"Sōsuke, do you think there's a way to achieve immortality in this world?"
"?"
Aizen, wearing polarized glasses, was intently operating the machine in front of him.
Inside, several clusters of souls writhed and contorted.
From time to time, spiritual energies collided, erupting in flashes of light.
Thanks to the polarized glasses, the flashes barely affected him.
These glasses were a gift from Satoru not long after he began this set of experiments.
Aizen was quite pleased about this.
Not because the glasses were expensive, but because someone like Satoru could actually understand the mechanics of his experiments.
Incidentally, the price of glasses in the Soul Society was truly outrageous.
Glasses in the human world were already ridiculously priced, but the Soul Society took it to another level.
The pair Satoru bought cost him three months' wages.
For a long time afterward, he relied on mooching meals off Yoruichi to avoid starving on the streets.
Hearing Satoru's question, Aizen paused his work and looked over, puzzled.
"Why ask this all of a sudden… You still have plenty of lifespan left, don't you?"
Then, as if struck by a thought, he frowned and said:
"Don't tell me you're thinking of using some method to gain a long life so you can freely wield Enrakyōten in the future?"
"If that's what you're thinking, I suggest you give up now."
"Enrakyōten consumes the soul, one's very existence—it's irreversible."
"Even if you had infinite lifespan, recklessly using that blade would eventually erase your existence, causing you to vanish from this world."
Hearing Aizen's words, Satoru immediately took offense.
"Do I look like the kind of person who'd act so recklessly?"
"Yes."
"..."
Faced with Aizen's instant reply, Satoru couldn't help but feel like he'd been screwed over by a cat.
Ignoring Aizen's slander, he recounted what he had witnessed at the Kuchiki Clan earlier that day.
After listening, Aizen shook his head lightly.
"During Ginrei's youth, the conflict between the Soul Society and Hueco Mundo was at its peak."
"He sustained many injuries in the war, and his soul was severely damaged."
"That he's lived this long is already remarkable. Whether he dies sooner or later shouldn't come as a surprise."
"Even if you find a way to repair his soul now, it won't change anything… If you're worried about the Kuchiki Clan, just look after Sōjun more after he passes."
Aizen actually had a favorable impression of Sōjun as well.
Though he was a noble young master unaware of the hardships of life, he was at least sincere in his dealings with others.
During their school days, Aizen had eaten many meals at his expense.
Even if Satoru had forced him to partake, the food had ultimately ended up in his stomach.
Satoru nodded. "Alright, I understand."
Fortunately, most of the people he cared about were still young.
The only old-timer among them was still hale and hearty.
Mulling over these random thoughts, he moved closer to Aizen and peered at the machine he was operating.
"What are you researching here?"
"Don't look directly."
Aizen waved him away as if shooing a fly.
Then he continued:
"This is a collaborative project Kisuke commissioned me to work on."
"I handle one part, and he handles the other."
"Once both are completed, we'll combine them into the finished product."
Hearing this, Satoru was somewhat surprised.
Kisuke and Aizen collaborating on a project...
This bizarre combination was quite impactful for him as a transmigrator.
It would be hilarious if what they were developing together was that skeletal Kidō used to seal Aizen in the future.
As if sensing Satoru's malicious thoughts, Aizen narrowed his eyes and glanced at him.
"Sorry, my bad!"
"..."
Just moments ago, Aizen wasn't sure, but now seeing Satoru suddenly apologize, he became certain—this guy had just been bad-mouthing him in his mind.
Blood pressure rising.
...
...
That morning, Satoru arrived at the First Division barracks.
Having visited so many times, he could now find Yamamoto's study blindfolded within the First Division's territory.
Sliding the door open, he raised his hand:
"Good morning! Old m... teacher!"
Sunny and energetic, respectful to his teacher—a model youth.
Normally, Yamamoto would have thrown his cane at him.
But today, the study was unusually quiet.
Yamamoto stood behind his desk with a stern expression.
On the other side of the room, Kirio stood there with a similar demeanor.
Seeing Satoru, Yamamoto first frowned, then said irritably:
"Close the door."
"Okay."
Satoru entered and closed the door behind him.
Yamamoto: "..."
He had meant for Satoru to close the door and stay outside.
But since he was already inside, Yamamoto couldn't be bothered to kick him out.
"...Captain Hikifune, please continue."
Kirio blinked at Satoru.
Then turning back, she said solemnly:
"From fifty years ago until now, over two hundred thousand souls have disappeared from the human world, leaving the cycle of the three worlds."
"Compared to the previous fifty-year period, the rate has nearly doubled."
"As a result, the human world—serving as the transitional zone between Soul Society and Hueco Mundo—is becoming increasingly fragile."
"If this continues, eventually either Soul Society or Hueco Mundo will crush the edges of the human world and invade!"
"When that happens, it will be a world-ending catastrophe!"
Yamamoto remained silent, his brow furrowed deeply.
Satoru looked at the two of them in confusion.
Disappearing souls?
When human souls die, they either go to Soul Society, Hueco Mundo, or become earth-bound spirits... What did "disappear" mean?
Suddenly, he understood something.