Masatsuki Aozaki eyed the two night patrol Shinigami in the distance and slowly drew Banshō Senran from his waist.
He had just taken a step forward when the two Shinigami suddenly stirred.
A chilling rip echoed from their bodies.
Like something straight out of a horror film, their joints twisted unnaturally, their limbs jerking as they raised their Asauchis.
The "corpses" slowly lifted their heads, pausing for a brief moment before suddenly breaking into a sprint toward Masatsuki.
Blood streamed from their seven orifices, their grotesque expressions making it clear—they were already dead.
"What the hell is this!?"
The two Onmitsukidō members hiding in the shadows froze, an icy shiver running down their spines.
A wave of cold sweat drenched their uniforms as they stared, horrified.
They had never seen anything like this before.
From all observations, these Shinigami were supposed to be dead.
And yet, they were still moving. Still running. Still swinging their blades.
Masatsuki stood in the middle of the passage.
Above him, the stars shimmered in the night sky. Around him, footsteps echoed from the lifeless figures concealed in the shadows.
The Onmitsukidō agents swallowed hard, their hands instinctively gripping the short swords at their waists.
Years of rigorous training allowed them to quickly suppress their fear and steel their minds.
They held their breath, readying themselves.
All they had to do was wait—wait for the undead to get close enough, then strike first and behead them.
...
Masatsuki's lips curled into a taunting smirk, as if he'd already seen through the illusion.
In a blur of movement, he vanished—reappearing behind the two charging Shinigami.
A flick of his blade.
Blood droplets traced a delicate arc in the air before splattering onto the ground.
The Shinigami's movements came to an abrupt halt.
A second later...
Under the stunned gazes of the two Onmitsukidō agents, the undead were cleaved cleanly in half.
"So this is Aozaki-sama's strength? That's terrifying..."
"I couldn't even see his movements. He's no weaker than a Lieutenant-level Shinigami!"
Both men instinctively swallowed hard, the same realization dawning on them.
Now they understood why this man had become a Third Seat immediately after graduating from Shin'ō Academy.
...
"Ryuuseki, Sixth Seat. Izumo, Eighth Seat. I tried using Tenteikūra, but it seems these guys were well-prepared—Tenteikūra has been neutralized."
Masatsuki lifted his gaze to the night sky.
Even to the naked eye, the air appeared slightly distorted, as if an invisible membrane was interfering with the natural flow of Reishi.
He swung Banshō Senran, focusing his Reiatsu along the blade.
A brilliant azure wave of energy slashed forward, tearing a gaping hole in the barrier.
The surrounding Reishi reacted instantly, clinging to the breach in an attempt to mend it.
But before it could fully repair itself, a massive surge of Reiatsu had already been unleashed—without restraint.
"Go get backup, preferably a captain. This opponent is a bit troublesome."
"..."
Ryuuseki and Izumo hesitated briefly, but Masatsuki Aozaki continued, his tone calm.
"The next battle will be dangerous. I won't be able to protect you."
Exchanging a glance, the two vanished into the darkness.
Masatsuki turned his gaze forward, his voice unhurried.
"If you don't come out soon, I'm leaving."
"Hah, as expected of the Captain-Commander's disciple. You actually noticed me—I thought I was hidden well enough."
A voice rang out.
Masatsuki's lips curled into a cold smile as he got a clear look at the person standing before him.
A tall, lean man with white hair approached from the far end of the street. His right arm was encased in a metallic gauntlet, with thin, gleaming threads extending from the joints.
"They actually sent a captain-level to kill me? What an honor," Masatsuki thought.
He narrowed his eyes playfully. "They're running off to warn the others. Aren't you going after them?"
"When the Gotei 13 captains arrive, you won't be able to escape."
"Don't worry about that. Someone else will take care of those two brats."
The white-haired man smirked mockingly. "You're smart. You didn't charge at me recklessly, nor did you run."
"Instead, you let them escape while keeping my attention on you."
"But unfortunately... my target is only you."
"Don't make it sound like I'm using them," Masatsuki shrugged. "I sincerely hope they make it out."
"Is that so? Let's go with that, then."
The man chuckled, engaging in casual conversation as if he weren't in a hurry to fight.
"Are these guys drunk? Or just too obsessed with women?" Masatsuki mused.
He had already released his Reiatsu through the sword pressure that had just split the night sky. The longer this dragged on, the more advantageous it was for him.
The white-haired man laughed derisively.
"But your so-called self-sacrifice is meaningless. The weak deserve to die by the sword. Acting relaxed only makes you look ridiculous."
Suddenly, a deep crack echoed beneath them.
Masatsuki instinctively sidestepped as razor-thin metal threads shot up from the ground. He smirked.
"Self-sacrifice? I don't have that kind of mindset. I just don't think you're strong enough to kill me."
As he spoke, Banshō Senran completed its Shikai, its form shifting as it mimicked the abilities of the Bōkunchō.
With a casual flick of his wrist, the metal wires emerging from the ground were severed effortlessly.
Then, he shot the white-haired man a deliberately condescending glance.
"Trying to piss me off? Congratulations, you succeeded."
The man's expression twisted with rage.
"You looking to die?! I'll grant your wish!"
To this man—who appeared to live a privileged life but was, in reality, treated like a noble's pet, constantly seeking validation—Masatsuki's words were nothing short of an insult to his very existence.
As expected, his pride was wounded.
With a snarl, he clenched his right fist, and the metallic threads sprang to life, coiling around his body to form a full suit of armor.
A massive, two-meter-long spear materialized in his grip.
Then, like a steel-clad behemoth, he charged at Masatsuki.
The sheer force of his steps shattered the ground beneath him, leaving deep craters in his wake.
His speed surged to its peak—like a cannonball with devastating power.
Paired with the metal spear, he resembled a rampaging steel rhino.
Boom!
A heavy impact.
The white-haired man stared in disbelief as Masatsuki, having blocked the attack with his Zanpakutō, was forced back several meters.
Then he saw it—the twisted, exhilarated grin on Masatsuki's face.
For a moment, his mind went blank.
He actually blocked it?
But the next second, his pupils shrank.
Fine cracks had formed along the surface of his supposedly indestructible metal spear.
This was a weapon condensed from his full-powered Reiatsu burst—far tougher than the wires he had used in his earlier sneak attack.
"...Masatsuki Aozaki."
"I've heard of your feats before, but fighting you firsthand... I have to admit, I'm impressed."
"The Captain-Commander didn't choose you as his disciple for nothing. If I had met you first, I wouldn't have wanted to let go of such a promising talent either."
As he spoke, the bulky metal armor on his body began to contract, molding more tightly to his frame.
With a swift motion, he spun his spear, and in an instant—the cracks disappeared.
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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