The Soul Extraction Room had been blown to pieces. Debris and chaos littered the floor.
"The research results… all gone…"
"Forget the research results! Focus on saving people! Lieutenant Aizen is still inside!"
"Those intruders are shameless! Coming here to cause trouble in the Twelfth Division!"
"Lieutenant Aizen, are you alright? I'll get you out immediately!"
Hands scrambled, lifting the victims buried under the rubble. Fortunately, none of them were seriously harmed—just a few dents in their composure and elegance.
When Kisaragi Akira noticed that someone's spiritual pressure had vanished from the barracks, he allowed himself a moment of relief. Yet, a faint, almost imperceptible hint of helplessness flickered in his eyes.
Someone like him—he, who prided himself on understanding the cold nature of the world—was actually willing to make sacrifices for others. He even cooperated to accomplish things that had nothing to do with his own interests.
He had grown up witnessing the harshness of life and the fickleness of human nature. He had thought himself beyond attachment, indifferent to all things. Yet somewhere along the line, his worldview had shifted, and now he found himself questioning when exactly that change had begun.
Meanwhile, near the Soul Calibration Research Lab, the draping silks that had once filled the sky gradually unfurled, drifting like ethereal phantoms.
The scene slowly resolved. Tendrils of vines dissolved, dispersing into spiritual particles that evaporated into the air.
One figure remained bound by the silks, mystical inscriptions etched across the fabric, completely sealing his spiritual energy.
Captain of the Seventh Division, Fuchigami Otoko.
At this moment, his eyes were wide with terror and trembling so violently that he couldn't even summon the courage to meet Senmaru's gaze.
The beautiful woman that others praised appeared to him as something venomous and fearsome.
One could only imagine the psychological torment he had endured to transform from a proud, unyielding captain of the Shinigami into this trembling shadow of himself.
Yet in truth, Senmaru paid him little mind. Fuchigami's breakdown was nothing more than a reflection of his poor mental resilience. She had seen countless Shinigami captains, and someone like Fuchigami ranked only mid to low at best. Not even the likes of Shigekuni Yamamoto or the current Twelfth Division Captain, Kiryu Hayafune, would be in the same league. They simply existed on different planes.
By contrast, Senmaru's attention remained on the young man who had dared enter her laboratory that day. A perfect spiritual body, brimming with limitless potential. Even after witnessing countless living experiments, she had yet to find a comparable existence.
If it weren't for the risk of provoking Yamamoto's wrath, she would have already taken action against Kisaragi Akira. A tinge of regret flickered in her eyes—but she quickly composed herself, a subtle smile curling her lips.
"Before heading to the Soul King Palace, perhaps there's a suitable opportunity…" she murmured.
Chaos still reigned in the Twelfth Division. Other intruders, unaware that the mission had already been completed, continued frantically searching for the archives containing the Soul Reconstruction technology.
Under the moonlight, flames licked the sky. The moment Senmaru moved, the turmoil instantly ceased, her power undeniable.
...
Later, under the soft glow of moonlight, a stealthy figure silently retraced his steps, slipping into the heavily guarded Sixth District.
Upon reaching a lavish mansion, he abruptly halted.
Kisaragi Akira surveyed himself: clothes immaculate, untainted by dust. Injuries? None—not even a scratch. He frowned slightly.
Ever since his excursion to the Twelfth Division, Aizen had grown lax. After all that fighting, he couldn't even leave a single superficial wound? How could one hope to dominate the top under such carelessness?
After a moment's thought, he swiftly tore his night-clothes into tattered rags. Then, using the Thunderfire Blade, he left small, superficial wounds across his body. It looked painfully real. Satisfied, he climbed over the wall into the mansion with casual ease.
No surprise: Sugawa Kusaka paced anxiously in the courtyard.
"Brother Kusaka, I'm back."
Kisaragi Akira rushed forward, three steps into two, his face a mix of tension and excitement—perfectly embodying the art of acting.
Spending time alongside Aizen had honed his performance skills. Subtle control over facial muscles could easily deceive the unfamiliar. Of course, people like Aizen, Yamamoto, or Unohana knew him too well; no act could hide his true intentions from them.
"I'm Kusaka, not Kusaka-old," Sugawa sighed. Then he asked, "Why are you alone? Where are the others?"
"We split up," Kisaragi Akira replied without so much as a blush. "The other two were assigned separate tasks. I'm a bit stronger, so I handled the enemies after a tough fight and brought back the Soul Reconstruction technology."
Sugawa's eyes lit up, and he grabbed Kisaragi Akira's hand, leading him deeper into the mansion.
After walking through wide hallways, they entered a study.
Tsuneyori Anzai sat behind a desk, sharp eyes fixed on the pair.
Kisaragi Akira recounted his pre-prepared narrative, emphasizing his central role in the night's events and taking full credit for the mission's success.
Tsuneyori Anzai listened patiently, his expression shifting subtly as he considered the story. He narrowed his eyes when he learned Kisaragi Akira had single-handedly repelled the enemies and used Kido to destroy the Soul Extraction Room. Not only had he changed the course of the battle, but he had brought back critical Soul Reconstruction technology.
"Where's the Soul Reconstruction technology?"
"Here," Kisaragi Akira handed over the document, slightly crumpled from being tucked against his chest. The edges were torn, but that only added to its credibility.
A quick glance sufficed for Tsuneyori Anzai to verify the document's authenticity. Then he noticed the boy's battered state—dry, cracked lips and multiple superficial wounds.
"You've worked hard, Lord Kisaragi," he said, putting the paper aside to soothe him. "Tonight, you completed the mission and secured the Soul Reconstruction technology. Once the plan succeeds, your contribution will be foremost."
Kisaragi Akira blinked, saying nothing, his gaze fixed intently on Anzai.
Anzai paused, then read the answer in those eager eyes.
"My word is my bond," he said. "The next Noble Council convenes in three days. I will personally recommend you as a new junior noble. This mansion will also be transferred under your name."
A small reward, but Anzai saw it as insignificant. What mattered was perfect execution of the plan; then the entire Soul Society would kneel at his feet. He alone would be its god.
Kisaragi Akira's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. He nodded greedily. "Thank you for your reward, Lord Anzai."
Seeing this, Anzai felt reassured. Desire could be leveraged; those without ambition could never be controlled.
"You've worked hard tonight. Rest for now," Anzai said, eager to study the Soul Reconstruction technology.
Kisaragi Akira and Sugawa Kusaka stood, leaving the study together. They chatted along the corridors, Kusaka openly expressing admiration for the young man. Freshly recruited under Anzai, Kisaragi Akira had already accomplished so much, earning a bright future.
Kisaragi Akira, in turn, promised never to forget Kusaka's guidance if he ever rose to greatness. Their bond strengthened in that moment.
...
The next morning, when the news of the Twelfth Division's chaos spread throughout the Soul Society, Gosuke arrived at his lord's quarters, respectfully announcing:
"Lord Miyaji, the Hell Butterflies have reported. The Captain's meeting begins in one hour. If you delay any longer, you'll be late."
Kisaragi Akira opened the sliding door, surprised to see Gosuke kneeling there.
"Captain's meeting? What does that have to do with me?"
"Shouldn't you attend?"
Gosuke sighed, hopeless. "I'm only acting captain. The meeting requires both captain and vice-captain. If I go alone, the Commander-in-Chief will hold me accountable."
"Would you like to freshen up before we go?"
He had no hope left for this future captain. Despite extraordinary talent, Kisaragi Akira's methods were too unorthodox. Most of the Eleventh Division, aside from the members maintaining basic barracks operations, had been dispatched to promote faith in Rukongai.
A few days prior, he had even spent a fortune constructing a lavish shrine in the prime North Rukongai District. It was clear: the Ise family held no influence over him.
Fortunately, he still heeded advice on matters unrelated to promoting faith. Soon, the two prepared and headed to the First Division barracks.
...
The Captain's Meeting Room was spacious and bright. Yamamoto sat at the head, his ancient hands pressing against his swirling cane, eyes commanding as they scanned the arriving captains.
Awakened earlier that night by Deputy Minister Jiro, he had been briefed on the Twelfth Division uprising. Though losses were minimal, the affront to the Gotei 13's dignity was undeniable.
"By now, you've likely heard about last night's events," Yamamoto said gravely. "The Twelfth Division barracks suffered a shocking attack. The culprit: Seventh Division Captain Fuchigami Otoko."
Murmurs ran through the room. Fellow captains had frequent contact with him. Harusame Kyōreki, for instance, had often drunk with Fuchigami in the Flower District and considered him a friend. To learn he had betrayed the Soul Society stunned them.
"Thankfully, he is now detained in the House of Repentance, awaiting Room 46's judgment," Yamamoto continued, his voice carrying across the room. Even vice-captains paled at the weight of his words.
At the Eleventh Division's seat, however, the roles reversed. Acting captain Gosuke looked helpless, pale and sweating. Behind him, Kisaragi Akira seemed untouched—relaxed, even enjoying the proceedings.
For him, this scolding was less than one percent as severe as usual. Yamamoto appeared kind and approachable compared to Kisaragi Akira's perspective.
Yamamoto spared minimal attention for his foolish subordinates, focusing instead on the other captains. After a pause, he continued:
"But one matter is more pressing. Witnesses and site analysis indicate that not all intruders were captured. One escaped. To uphold our dignity, Seireitei gates are closed. Patrols tripled. The escapee must be captured to enforce Soul Society law!"
Several captains who often slacked off groaned—especially the Fifth and Eighth Divisions.
Meanwhile, the escaped individual observed the room curiously, showing no sign of nervousness. He even exchanged glances with Yoruichi Shihoin. From her expression, it was clear she already knew who the escapee was.
As discussion neared its end, Yamamoto struck the floor, drawing everyone's attention.
"This meeting is adjourned."
Kisaragi Akira immediately bounded toward Yoruichi.
But before he could take two steps, Yamamoto's commanding gaze fell upon him. Eyes narrowed, he spoke with unyielding seriousness:
"You, stay. I have questions for you."
A chill ran down Kisaragi Akira's spine. A foreboding sense of unease surged within him…