Nakatomi Ling chose to join them.
Since they were banding together to seize food and survive in the harsh outer regions of Rukongai, he didn't want to be isolated and end up starving alone for days. The gnawing hunger caused by possessing Reiryoku was something he had already experienced—he had no intention of going through that again.
This small group was led by the strongest among them, Yuan Zhi. His combat experience and control over Reiryoku surpassed everyone present, making him the natural leader. However, Nakatomi Ling could vaguely sense that Yuan Zhi's Reiatsu was not necessarily stronger than his own—it was more stable, more refined, as if deliberately restrained rather than fully unleashed.
They did not rush forward recklessly, but instead advanced cautiously, moving step by step.
Along the way, they encountered many ordinary souls fleeing from West 68th District due to the recent Hollow disturbances. However, they did not encounter any other wandering souls with awakened spiritual power—clearly, most of the strong had either moved ahead or avoided conflict.
"Here, today's food."
That evening, a balding man was responsible for distributing the rations. Nakatomi Ling frowned when he received his portion.
"Persimmons? And they're still unripe? Just one per day?"
The balding man was one of Yuan Zhi's trusted companions—one of the original core members of the group.
"Why so many questions? If you're not satisfied, go find your own food."
"Tch… you bald donkey!"
"You dare insult me? Brat, you're asking to die!"
"Want to fight? I don't think you're my match."
After several days of adapting, Nakatomi Ling had already learned how to circulate his Reiryoku in combat, reinforcing his body with Reiatsu. Against someone whose Reiatsu felt weaker than his own, he was no longer afraid.
"Enough!"
Yuan Zhi spoke, his tone firm.
"Once we take control of West 67th District, food won't be a problem anymore."
As the undisputed leader, his words carried weight. The argument stopped immediately.
Nakatomi Ling said nothing more. He hugged his Asauchi tightly and lay down on the grass, preparing to rest. In this world, a weapon was life itself—especially one like an Asauchi, which held the potential to evolve into a true Zanpakutō.
However, despite his exhaustion, he couldn't fall asleep easily.
Recently, Nakatomi Ling had been thinking about something.
In his previous life, he had seen clips where characters would shout "Bankai" and suddenly become overwhelmingly powerful. Curious, he had even tried shouting it himself earlier—but nothing happened.
Naturally, this wasn't surprising.
He had only seen fragments of the series and had no real understanding of how power worked in this world.
In truth, every Zanpakutō began as an Asauchi, a blank blade issued to Shinigami of the Gotei 13.
Through constant contact—sleeping, eating, and fighting together—the wielder imprints their soul onto the Asauchi, gradually transforming it into a unique Zanpakutō.
Then, through meditation known as "Jinzen," the Shinigami communicates with the spirit within the blade. By learning its name, they unlock its initial release—Shikai.
Only after years, often decades, of training can one manifest the spirit in reality and subjugate it, achieving Bankai—the ultimate release.
Clearly, no one had taught Nakatomi Ling any of this.
However, by sheer coincidence, he had already fulfilled the first condition—he carried his Asauchi everywhere, slept with it, and relied on it for survival.
That night, Nakatomi Ling drifted into a strange dream.
He saw a beautiful woman standing before him, her figure graceful and alluring. Just as she began to undress—
Her face suddenly twisted.
In the next instant, she transformed into one of the rough men from the group.
Nakatomi Ling's eyes snapped open.
Sure enough, a man stood over him, gripping a crude spear tipped with sharpened stone, thrusting it downward.
"Die!"
The man didn't hesitate after being discovered. With killing intent in his eyes, he stabbed forward.
Nakatomi Ling reacted instantly. He grabbed the spear shaft with one hand, diverting its path, while drawing his Asauchi with the other. With a single horizontal slash, he cut open the attacker's abdomen.
Blood spilled out, along with his entrails.
"What's going on?"
Nakatomi Ling slowly released his Reiatsu, his gaze sweeping over the other seven members of the group, all of whom had woken up.
The atmosphere instantly became tense.
"Damn it…"
Yuan Zhi cursed under his breath, immediately understanding the situation.
"Nakatomi , don't misunderstand. That guy only joined today—he was probably after your Asauchi."
Hearing this, two others in the group couldn't help but glance greedily at the blade in Nakatomi Ling's hand. However, when they felt his Reiatsu and met his cold gaze, their greed quickly faded.
An Asauchi was extremely valuable.
Under normal circumstances, only Shinigami from the Gotei 13 could obtain one. If properly nurtured, it could become a Zanpakutō.
When a Shinigami died, their Zanpakutō typically disappeared along with them, returning to reishi. Finding a surviving Asauchi in the wild was incredibly rare.
Nakatomi Ling's luck naturally drew envy.
"Turning an Asauchi into a Zanpakutō isn't easy. Among us, only Yuan Zhi has made any progress. Greed alone won't help you."
The balding man—named Yamakaze—spoke calmly. His weapon was a short axe, and his expression was steady.
He had already tried to imprint his soul onto a weapon before, but without success.
"That's right. Everyone knows the situation here. Nakatomi 's strength isn't weak either. Don't ruin the group over something like this."
Yuan Zhi glanced around, his tone cold. Though he said little, his authority was clear.
In a group like theirs, mutual distrust was the fastest path to destruction.
Originally, Nakatomi Ling had planned to leave.
But after hearing Yamakaze's words, his thoughts changed.
If even someone like Yuan Zhi had begun the process of evolving an Asauchi…
Then perhaps he could learn something valuable.
He quickly caught up to Yuan Zhi and began asking about the process of turning an Asauchi into a Zanpakutō.
In order to win him over, Yuan Zhi did not hide anything. He even explained fragments of how to communicate with the blade's spirit and hinted at the concept of Shikai.
When Nakatomi Ling asked how he knew all this, Yuan Zhi revealed that he had once saved an injured Shinigami, who had taught him these basics before later dying in battle against a Hollow.
From that moment on, the two gradually lowered their guard toward each other.
…
Over the next few days, more people joined the group.
Two more arrived the next day, another on the third. The group slowly expanded.
By the eighth day, they had grown to thirty-three members—enough to be considered a medium-sized force in the outer districts.
Finally, they reached the border of West 67th District.
Nakatomi Ling and the others did not enter openly. Instead, they split into smaller groups of two or three, infiltrating quietly to avoid drawing attention.
Even districts closer to the Seireitei were not entirely safe.
If large-scale fighting broke out, someone might report it, and Shinigami patrols would be dispatched to maintain order.
Only the inner districts—those numbered within the top ten—could be considered relatively stable.
Those areas had more souls, more resources, and even residents connected to noble families.
The First District, Junrinan, was especially prosperous, home to many minor nobles and closely tied to the aristocratic structure of Soul Society.
As for the great noble clans—such as the Shiba Clan—they still resided within the Seireitei at this time, far removed from the chaos of Rukongai.
And now…
Nakatomi Ling had stepped one level deeper into that chaos.
The Rukongai is arranged like concentric rings surrounding the central stronghold of the Seireitei, much like a target. Each ring is divided into districts, numbered from 1 to 80.
The closer a district is to the Seireitei, the more stable and prosperous it is. Conversely, the higher the number, the more chaotic and dangerous it becomes. The furthest district—District 80—is known as Zaraki, infamous for its lawlessness and constant bloodshed.
These eighty districts are further divided into four cardinal regions—east, west, south, and north—each centered around the Seireitei, effectively creating a total of 320 districts across Soul Society.
Nakatomi Ling and his group had now entered West Rukongai's 67th District.
There was a settlement here. With the recent influx of refugees fleeing Hollow attacks in District 68, the population had swelled to tens of thousands. This place was known locally as Xiluoyin Town, the largest gathering point in this region.
Other scattered groups existed in surrounding areas, but none could compare to the dominant force controlling this settlement. That organization, composed of more than thirty battle-hardened individuals, had occupied this place for three years, steadily expanding its influence.
Nakatomi Ling wrapped himself in a large, tattered cloth, concealing his long black hair and youthful face. According to Yuan Zhi's plan, he was to accompany another member—nicknamed Wildfire—to deliver a challenge.
In Nakatomi Ling's view, a direct assault would have been more efficient. However, Yuan Zhi insisted on issuing a formal provocation first, believing that a head-on clash without preparation would be reckless.
Considering that Yuan Zhi had shared knowledge about nurturing an Asauchi toward becoming a Zanpakutō, Nakatomi Ling accepted the role.
As soon as they entered the outskirts of the settlement, they saw two men collecting food from the residents door to door, their attitudes arrogant and domineering.
When they reached Nakatomi Ling and Wildfire, they blocked their path.
"Hey, you two just arrived, right? This is our territory. Pay enough food—or one hundred kan—and you'll be allowed to stay under our protection."
One of them, a man with short red hair and a strip of gray cloth tied around his right arm, stepped forward and spoke coldly.
"Pay money? Heh…"
Clang!
Nakatomi Ling raised his head, killing intent flashing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he drew his Asauchi and slashed.
The blade cut cleanly through the man's left arm, which fell to the ground.
"Ahhh! My arm!"
"Damn it—ugh!"
The red-haired man collapsed, screaming in agony.
The short, fat man beside him, who was holding a basket filled with food, reacted a moment too late. As he tried to drop the basket and draw his weapon, Nakatomi Ling moved faster—
A single slash cut across his throat.
"Red hair, go back and report. Tell your leader we'll be waiting in the mountains two kilometers outside town this afternoon. Have him gather his men."
Nakatomi Ling spoke coldly, then turned and walked away, his blade still dripping.
Wildfire followed behind. As they left, he casually picked up the basket of food and handed Nakatomi Ling a rare apple.
"Hey… you just ate one."
"I stole it."
After finishing one, Nakatomi Ling immediately reached for another. The two argued briefly, but in the end, Wildfire gave in, and Nakatomi Ling ate until he was satisfied.
…
On a hillside outside the settlement, a group of ragged, barefoot figures waited silently.
In the distance, another group approached—armed with crude weapons, their numbers clearly greater.
Their leader stood out immediately.
He was nearly two meters tall, towering above the rest like a crane among chickens. One of his ears was missing, giving him a fierce, battle-hardened appearance.
The opposing side numbered more than fifty people—far more than Nakatomi Ling's group of thirty-three. They had clearly expanded their ranks recently.
"Leave their leader to me. You guys just hold the line!"
Yuan Zhi spoke confidently, his tone steady.
Hearing this, Nakatomi Ling felt slightly reassured. This was his first time participating in a battle of this scale, and a trace of nervousness lingered in his heart.
"Men! Kill them all!"
"Die!"
"Hahaha!"
As the distance closed, the enemy leader roared, and his subordinates charged forward like madmen.
"Charge! Kill them! I'm done starving and wandering!"
Yuan Zhi waved his hand, leading his men forward. Their eyes were bloodshot, driven by desperation and hunger.
Nakatomi Ling, however, deliberately slowed his pace, staying slightly behind the main force.
For these wandering souls, the promise of food outweighed everything else. Farming or long-term survival strategies meant nothing to them—they feared starvation before any crops could grow.
In the open terrain of the hills, the two sides collided violently.
Moments later, Nakatomi Ling encountered one of the enemy's vanguard fighters.
The man laughed wildly, already bearing multiple wounds, yet completely ignoring them. He swung his blade recklessly at Nakatomi Ling, who raised his own weapon to block.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Their blades collided repeatedly.
Nakatomi Ling felt the force behind each strike and couldn't help but think:
'What heavy blows…'
"Hahaha! Brat, is that all you've got? Go back and drink your mother's milk! Remember this—my name is Wuliang!"
The man—filthy, blood dripping from his shoulder and chest—continued to taunt loudly, even announcing his name as he fought. His Reiatsu surged outward recklessly, lacking control but full of killing intent.
Nakatomi Ling remained silent.
Suddenly, Wuliang changed his stance, thrusting his blade toward Nakatomi Ling's throat.
Nakatomi Ling had been waiting for this exact moment.
In an instant, he increased his Reiatsu output, reinforcing his body. With his left hand, he grabbed the incoming blade, ignoring the pain as it cut into his palm, and forcefully pulled it aside.
At the same time, his right hand swung his Asauchi in a swift arc.
The blade sliced across Wuliang's chest, cutting him open.
As Wuliang collapsed, his vision blurred—but he could still see the faint, cold smile on Nakatomi Ling's face.
Regret filled his eyes as darkness swallowed him whole.