"Captain Kazuma, where exactly are we going?"
Renji followed closely behind Kazuma as they left the Seireitei and raced toward the Shiba estate.
His head was filled with questions.
Could the guy capable of repairing his Zanpakutō actually live somewhere in the Rukongai?
That made no sense.
Renji had never heard of anyone out there possessing such extraordinary skill. Had he simply been too ignorant to learn about someone so important?
"Oh, right. I forgot to tell you where we're going."
Kazuma stopped, glanced back at Renji's bewildered face, and slapped his own forehead.
"We're heading to the Shiba Clan."
"The Shiba Clan?"
Renji stared at him in disbelief.
"Aren't they famous for making fireworks? Since when could they repair Zanpakutō — especially one damaged in Bankai? That's unbelievable!"
If the Shiba Clan truly possessed such an incredible ability, Soul Society should have treated them like honored guests instead of leaving them out in the Rukongai.
"You're overthinking it. Obviously, the Shiba Clan isn't repairing your sword."
Kazuma offered no further explanation.
Renji would understand once they arrived.
"Kūkaku-san! I'm back!"
Kazuma's shout rang through the compound as he appeared before Kūkaku at tremendous speed, with an excited Renji following close behind.
The two soon arrived beside the Shiba Clan's enormous cannon.
Kūkaku was seated nearby with her long pipe between her lips, casually blowing smoke while gazing into the distance.
"Captain Kazuma. That was quick."
Kūkaku smiled when she saw them.
Kazuma's expression immediately darkened.
"What exactly do you mean by quick? You'd better explain yourself clearly."
He hadn't expected Kūkaku to make a joke like that with a completely straight face.
The innuendo had practically run him over.
Renji stood nearby looking utterly confused, unable to understand why his captain had suddenly become so defensive.
"Oh, relax. It was only an innocent comment."
Kūkaku laughed.
"I didn't expect you to read so much into it."
She'd assumed Kazuma was a respectable man. Apparently his mind was plenty dirty when given the chance.
"Enough messing around. Prepare another launch."
Kazuma refused to continue the conversation.
"My time is valuable."
With their previous experience, Kazuma led Renji inside the Tenchūren without difficulty and waited for Kūkaku to fire the cannon.
Kūkaku once again recited the complicated incantations and completed the launch procedure, sending the Tenchūren soaring toward the Soul King Palace.
Renji had followed Kazuma to the Shiba estate without understanding anything, and now he'd somehow found himself riding an enormous rocket toward an unknown destination.
"Feeling dizzy?"
As the Tenchūren accelerated upward, Kazuma checked on Renji.
This wasn't an experience an ordinary person could easily endure.
If Renji got sick and vomited inside the enclosed chamber, the smell would be unbearable.
Renji's head was already spinning as though buried beneath a thick fog.
His healthy complexion had turned deathly pale, and even his lips trembled. He seemed to be trying to say something, but no sound came out.
He was absolutely suffering from rocket sickness.
Kazuma saw the miserable look on his face and immediately sensed disaster.
Renji looked seconds away from throwing up.
Before that could happen, Kazuma struck the back of his neck with a sharp chop.
Thud!
Renji's eyes rolled upward, and he collapsed unconscious onto the floor.
"That was close."
Kazuma let out a relieved breath.
Renji had nearly ruined the entire chamber.
Fortunately, this Tenchūren was brand-new.
If they'd used the previous rusted antique, Renji probably wouldn't have survived a second before losing his lunch.
...
After a short and remarkably smooth journey, the Tenchūren reached the Soul King Palace.
Kazuma opened the hatch, grabbed the unconscious Renji by his clothing, and flew toward Hōōden while carrying him like a sack.
"Yo, boy! You came back pretty fast! Yo!"
Ōetsu bounced around like an overexcited monkey, waving his arms as he improvised another ridiculous rap.
"And look at the guy you're carrying! He's hanging there like a dead dog!"
Kazuma's gaze dropped to Ōetsu's restored arm.
"Heh. You reattached that hand quickly."
His lips curled into a mocking smile.
"I suppose that's the one thing you're actually good at."
Ōetsu fell silent.
The courtyard became strangely still.
"What happened to all the 'yo' nonsense?"
Kazuma immediately pressed his advantage.
"Did I hit a nerve? Have you suddenly forgotten how to speak?"
When it came to verbal combat, Kazuma's talent was genuinely terrifying. If he claimed second place, there might not be anyone bold enough to call themselves first.
Poor Ōetsu could neither defeat him in battle nor outargue him.
At that moment, the thousand-year-old Sword God looked like an enormous child who'd been mercilessly bullied.
"So this is the owner of that nearly shattered Zanpakutō?"
Unable to attack Kazuma directly, Ōetsu redirected his ridicule toward the unconscious Renji.
"Look at him. He really does resemble a dead dog."
"Would you believe me if I told you he gets rocket sick?"
Kazuma grinned.
Before Ōetsu could answer, Kazuma raised his hand and delivered several hard slaps across Renji's face.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
The crisp sounds echoed through the courtyard.
Renji was forcibly slapped awake.
"Ow… That hurts…"
He groggily rubbed his face and looked around in confusion.
"Captain Kazuma, where are we?"
Then an extraordinarily dense concentration of spiritual energy washed over him, instantly sharpening his senses.
Renji stared at his surroundings in amazement.
'The spiritual energy here is incredible. If I could train in a place like this, my strength would improve at several times the normal rate.'