Chapter 1: Starting by Looting the Shinigami's Corpse
Nakatomi ling sat at his computer desk, watching in disbelief as the badge on the League of Legends interface shattered from silver and turned golden.
"Hahahaha, I advanced! Is this what it feels like to become a Gold-ranked player? Four whole days and three nights! Hahahaha, I did it!"
Nakatomi ling successfully advanced, dancing with excitement. Suddenly, he clutched his chest and murmured:
"Uh, is this… my end?"
At only twenty years old, Nakatomi ling …
After collapsing, Nakatomi ling felt a dizzying sensation. He didn't know how much time had passed, but when he opened his eyes again, he saw blue skies and white clouds.
"Where…where am I? Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch!"
Nakatomi ling 's head throbbed. His memories merged with the memories of this other soul, their souls becoming one.
"Bleach? Soul Society? Holy crap! This world of Soul Society actually exists?"
Nakatomi ling knew a little about the anime Bleach, but only from some promotional clips on a certain movie streaming platform, a few episodes he'd watched, and the plot discussions among his classmates who were watching it.
It seemed to be about the protagonist, Ichigo Kurosaki, a Substitute Shinigami who gained powers from Rukia Kuchiki, and later fought enemies like the Quincy Uryū Ishida while opposing the traitorous captain Sōsuke Aizen, who led the Arrancar from Hueco Mundo in rebellion against the Gotei 13…
As for the later plot developments, he hadn't paid much attention. Looking back, he realized he hadn't watched it because he didn't have the money for a streaming service membership…
But now, Nakatomi ling knew much more. He had been reincarnated into this world of souls in a bizarre way, and had even merged with the soul that should have died and disappeared.
This unlucky guy who should have disappeared was also named Ling, had no surname, was only fifteen years old, and because he was hungry, he went to steal some persimmons, only to be caught and killed instantly.
Nakatomi ling , having transmigrated, couldn't explain the situation. When he touched his back again, there were no wounds, and the burly man who had killed him was long gone.
The pain gradually subsided, and Nakatomi ling began searching for memories left by the other soul he had merged with: "The most powerful ones are the Captains of the Gotei 13… Is the best place to live in the front districts of Rukongai? Uh, I've only eaten one persimmon in two days? That's pretty miserable…"
This world is called Soul Society, divided into two main parts: the Seireitei and the Rukongai. The Seireitei is where the Shinigami reside; their job is to purify Hollows and send souls of the dead to Soul Society through Konso.
Ordinary souls live in the Rukongai, where people who have become souls age slowly. After they die of old age, they are reincarnated into the Human World, maintaining the balance of souls.
Food is scarce in some areas of this world, especially in districts far from the Seireitei, the Shinigami headquarters. The farther the distance, the harsher the conditions, with outer districts like the 60th to 80th being filled with poverty, crime, and constant struggle.
Only those with spiritual power—Reiryoku—experience hunger; those without spiritual power can survive simply by drinking water.
Only those with spiritual power can continue to grow stronger and even enter the Shinigami Academy, but most people will die in the struggle for food. Only in inner districts where food is relatively stable can more people successfully survive.
Moreover, according to Ling's inherited memories, there exists a type of corrupted soul called a Hollow, beings that have lost their hearts and wear white masks, which specifically devour souls with high spiritual power like theirs, and the immense spiritual pressure they emit also attracts these monsters.
Gurgle gurgle gurgle~
"I'm hungry, I need to find something to eat. I'm currently in… uh, in West 68th District of Rukongai? How many months will it take to get closer to Seireitei? Damn it!!!"
Having received another piece of information, Nakatomi ling was speechless. Other people who transmigrate are either rich second-generation heirs or plingces and plingcesses; but he, on the other hand, not only arrived in a lawless outer district, but also had to worry about food right from the start.
Actually, this was still considered good; at least he wasn't assigned to the barren 80th District, where survival itself was a miracle and violence over water and scraps happened daily.
"Is God playing tricks on me?! I've watched Naruto, why was I sent to the world of Bleach?"
Gurgle gurgle gurgle~
His stomach was growling again. Nakatomi ling figured instead of lamenting, he should find something to fill his stomach…
In the forests and mountains of District 68, there wasn't a single living person in sight, let alone a village. Animals were rare too; the only things he saw were birds, but Ling couldn't catch any.
He'd walked all day and seen a few brightly colored mushrooms, but he didn't dare eat them!
"I'm so hungry!!!"
His clothes were like tattered gray rags, the belt around his waist already tightly bound, but his stomach still growled.
As if the heavens had heard his cry, a cloud of dust suddenly rose from a mountain peak a few hundred meters ahead, followed by violent spiritual pressure fluctuations and distant screams.
"Are they fighting? Could it be Shinigami battling a Hollow? I can sneak a peek without getting chased, right…"
Gurgle, gurgle…
The thought of food made Nakatomi ling 's stomach rumble again. He gathered all his strength… and slowly walked over…
On the mountain path, five or six large trees were broken, and there were three or four craters about half a meter in size in the ground, clearly signs of a clash involving spiritual power. Having finally reached this point, Nakatomi ling couldn't help but swallow hard.
'Could there really be a Hollow here? Or worse… a Shinigami-level battle? What should I do? Should I run?' Nakatomi ling 's legs trembled. After all, he was just an ordinary soul, and influenced by his memories, he was deeply terrified.
It was said that those man-eating monsters called Hollows were at least three meters tall, with masks covelingg their faces and bodies mutated beyond recognition, their strength far beyond ordinary souls.
There were even gigantic Gillian-class Menos; even a two-meter-tall strongman wouldn't be enough to fill their teeth… His predecessor had heard rumors—entire Rukongai districts wiped out overnight, leaving not a single soul behind.
'I won't be that unlucky. Going there might just mean being eaten by a Hollow, not going means certain starvation… I'm a transmigrator, I'm the protagonist, I won't die… If there are Shinigami, maybe I can scavenge something… even a dropped Zanpakutō…'
Nakatomi ling mentally reassured himself as he slowly approached the site of the earlier battle. The stench of blood mixed with lingelingg Reiryoku grew stronger…
Finally, Nakatomi ling saw a long-haired man in black robes lying on a tree, a bloodstained blade still clutched in his hand. The man wore the standard black Shihakushō of a Gotei 13 Shinigami, and a clean, circular hole had been opened in his chest, as if pierced clean through by a Hollow's attack, from which spiritual blood was still flowing. Nakatomi ling immediately recognized him as a Shinigami.
This scene startled Nakatomi ling . If he disregarded the fragmented memories inherited from the original Ling, this was the first time in his life he had ever seen a dead person.
Nakatomi ling was actually grateful for the influence of those memories this time. Because of them, he hadn't fled in panic at the sight of the corpse, nor had he vomited.
"Forgive me, forgive me, Lord Shinigami, you must have some rations on you! Lend me some…"
Muttelingg to himself, Nakatomi ling reached into the man's robes, then his face lit up with joy. When he pulled his hand back, he held a small, blood-stained rice ball wrapped in cloth.
Nakatomi ling didn't care about the bloodstains. In the harsh outer districts of Rukongai, survival outweighed dignity. He swallowed it whole, then reached back in. There were a few more…
"Ah, finally full!"
Having devoured four rice balls, Nakatomi ling took out the Shinigami's water flask and drank some water. Finally feeling his strength return, he began to take in his surroundings.
When he looked to his left, he saw another corpse, its head completely gone. It was also a Shinigami, and beside it lay a broken katana—its standard-issue Asauchi—snapped cleanly in half, its spiritual connection severed.
And that wasn't all. There was another one in the distance, even worse off. It was missing an arm and a leg, its wounds jagged, as if torn apart by teeth rather than a blade. Nakatomi ling was startled.
"It's definitely a Hollow, I have to run…" A chill ran down Nakatomi ling 's spine as he prepared to flee, but then he suddenly paused, recalling the logic of the world. "If a Hollow killed them, it would have devoured their souls completely… Shinigami possess dense Reiatsu, they're even more attractive prey…"
"The Hollow must have ambushed and severely injured these Shinigami, then they fought back and killed it, and finally died from their wounds. Maybe a mutual kill… My luck hasn't completely run out, haha…"
Convinced his reasoning made sense, Nakatomi ling immediately started looting the corpses again. This time, he easily found ten rice balls hidden within their robes. If he rationed them carefully, they would last him for several days.
"These clothes are so nice… Brother, can I borrow some clothes?"
Nakatomi ling stripped the headless corpse of its Shihakushō. Among the bodies, only this one's uniform was relatively intact; aside from the collar and shoulder, there wasn't much blood staining the rest.
After putting it on, Nakatomi ling found the sleeves far too long, clearly made for a fully grown Shinigami. He tore strips of cloth to shorten them crudely. The lower hem dragged against the ground as well, so he cut it shorter, making it barely manageable.
His current body was smaller, clearly due to inheriting the physique of the original soul. That Ling had only been fifteen years old. Before his death, he had been starving in the outer districts, his body thin and underdeveloped—completely different from Nakatomi ling 's previous well-fed modern physique, which had once stood over 1.8 meters tall.
"They're just ahead! Hurry up!"
"Damn it, I can't sense their Reiatsu anymore!"
Just then, a commotion arose in the distance. Birds scattered into the sky as voices echoed across the hills. Nakatomi ling 's expression changed instantly.
He knew this had to be a Shinigami patrol unit—reinforcements dispatched after sensing the earlier battle. Without hesitation, Nakatomi ling grabbed what he could and ran in the opposite direction.
He had stripped a dead Shinigami and taken their belongings; if he were caught, it would be considered desecration or theft. At best, he would be beaten—at worst, executed on the spot.
According to the original Ling's memories, Shinigami were not all benevolent. Especially those stationed in outer Rukongai, some abused their authority, even taking food from weaker souls dulingg missions.
Furthermore, the class divisions within the Gotei 13 were severe. Many noble-born Shinigami from the Seireitei looked down on souls from Rukongai as little more than expendable trash.
"The Hollow has also disappeared… likely destroyed. There's only residual Reiatsu left at the scene. Damn it, Tris's Asauchi is gone as well…"
"Those damned Rukongai scavengers, dalingg to touch Shinigami property—we'll make them pay when we catch them!"
These two voices echoed clearly through the forest, loud and careless.
Nakatomi ling sneered inwardly. These two idiots were destined to fail. Their voices gave away their position long before they arrived, and by the time they reached the battlefield, he was already far away, heading deeper into the outer districts.
Along the way, Nakatomi ling occasionally discovered one or two corpses scattered across the wilderness. According to memory, such bodies would remain for a few days before dissolving into reishi particles, returning to the cycle of reincarnation.
Two days later, Nakatomi ling arrived at a small, populated village.
Upon entelingg, he immediately sensed something was wrong. Several men lingered at the entrance, their gazes sharp and unfriendly, faint spiritual pressure leaking from their bodies.
As he walked further in, Nakatomi ling noticed that the village was filled with wandelingg souls, their expressions numb and lifeless. Most of them had no Reiatsu, meaning they did not need food and could survive on water alone.
However, that made them easy prey.
They were enslaved by those with spiritual power, forced to scavenge for food or resources, and punished or killed if they failed.
"Hey kid, wait a minute…"
"This is our territory. Hand over the food before you go in!"
"Hehehehe!"
Three thin men blocked Nakatomi ling 's path. Each had traces of spiritual power. One held a broken blade resembling a damaged Zanpakutō, another gripped a crude dagger, and the third wielded a sharpened wooden stick.
Nearby, ordinary souls resting in the sun immediately panicked upon seeing them. They scrambled into broken houses, peeking through cracks with fear in their eyes.
"I don't have any food on me… Hey, why am I even explaining?"
Nakatomi ling drew the weapon he had taken—a damaged Asauchi. His black Shihakushō was torn and filthy, barely resembling that of a proper Shinigami, so the three thugs did not recognize his disguise.
As for weapons like this, they were not entirely rare in the outer districts. With Shinigami dying dulingg Hollow hunts or internal conflicts, abandoned blades occasionally ended up in the hands of scavengers.
On the surface, Nakatomi ling looked calm and domineelingg, but inside, he was panicking:
'Stay calm, stay calm… I can bluff them. I just need to show killing intent… act like a real Shinigami…'
"Heh heh heh, kid, you're asking for death!"
However, killing intent born from real combat experience was not something that could be faked so easily.
The man with the wooden stick sneered and charged forward—
But Nakatomi ling had already turned and run at full speed, nearly causing the attacker to stumble.
"Ahhh, I really have no food!"
"You little brat, stop right there! Let me search you!"
"Then leave your weapon behind!"
"Leave your clothes too!"
Nakatomi ling shouted as he ran, clutching the stolen blade tightly. Behind him, the three skinny men chased like starving dogs after prey, their footsteps frantic and relentless as they pursued him out of the small village and deeper into the chaotic wilderness of Rukongai.