The night wore on at the inn, but the mind of a hooded young man continued to work tirelessly. This was Aizen Souske. Every rumor, every fragmented conversation floating in the air, was another piece of the puzzle. His face remained unchanged, his expression hidden by the shadows cast by the dim lamplight. Yet, deep inside, conclusions were beginning to take shape.
This world... was not his own.
It wasn't a simple assumption or an unfounded feeling. It was a fact. And like any fact, it needed proof. So far, his surroundings had offered several:
First, the sky. Since he had awakened in this unfamiliar land, he had noticed a slight difference in the atmosphere. The air pressure, the hue of the sky at dawn and dusk... were not what he remembered. Moreover, he couldn't perceive the same distribution of wandering spirits in the air. There was no trace of Soul Society, the Dangai, or the Human World he knew.
Second, the flow of energy. In his world, the structure of existence was governed by Reishi, spiritual particles that made up both the bodies of Shinigami and the afterlife itself. Here, that essence existed differently. He could feel the energy flowing through some individuals he had encountered, but it lacked the same coherence. It wasn't Reiryoku or pure Reishi, but something different, wilder and more chaotic.
Third, history. Throughout his time in the tavern, he had heard names and events that were completely foreign to him. The "Navy," the "World Government," the "Four Emperors," the "Great Lost Kingdom"—none of these entities had been recorded in Soul Society's oldest archives, not even in the classified data he had controlled.
Fourth, the power structure. The simple fact that a centralized government existed with absolute control over global navigation and trade suggested that the geopolitics of this world were radically different. There were no references to spirit nobles, Shinigami clans, or divine entities governing the balance of existence. And yet, the terms "pirate" and "Navy" seemed to define this world's primordial conflict.
"Too many unknown variables..." he muttered to himself, in a barely audible whisper.
The confirmation of his theory brought neither panic nor despair, but rather an icy acceptance. This wasn't the first time he'd found himself in a position of uncertainty. This wasn't the first time he'd had to rebuild his power from the shadows.
If this world had different rules, he would master them. If its inhabitants possessed abilities beyond his comprehension, he would study them. If authority figures existed who wielded absolute control over humanity, he would eventually subjugate them.
But before all that, he needed information. And the best source of information was right in front of him.
The tavern was bustling with life, with conversations constantly buzzing, but in a corner near the lit hearth, three men were arguing with an enthusiasm that stood out from the rest. Their clothes, clean but unadorned, suggested they were merchants or low-ranking scholars, individuals more concerned with knowledge or business than ostentation. Their voices, though not particularly loud, managed to stand out from the general noise, attracting the attention of anyone curious enough to listen.
"It's a unique place, I assure you," one of them stated, leaning forward fervently. "This university is not like any other. They don't just teach medicine or navigation. It's said that some of their professors are researching Devil Fruits from a scientific perspective! Can you imagine? Written theories, detailed analyses, experiments... It's like a new Ohara, but without the danger of destruction."
The second man, more skeptical, frowned. "It sounds interesting, but don't you think that could invite trouble? We all know what happened with Ohara. Forbidden knowledge is always dangerous."
The first shook his head, his smile denoting confidence. "That's the point. This island isn't Ohara. It's a colossal region, the size of several countries combined, and its size makes it almost impossible to control in its entirety. It doesn't have the fame or history of that cursed place. No one travels the entire territory because it's simply too vast. Even this rumor has barely reached the ears of a few. There's no reason for anyone powerful to be interested in it."
The third, who had remained silent until that moment, chimed in thoughtfully. "Perhaps that's its greatest strength. Its vastness. If they're really researching Devil Fruits, and if no one pays attention to what they're doing in such a vast territory, they could advance uninterruptedly. But of course, all this could just be a tale. Just another rumor."
A brief pause fell between them, as if each was assessing the implications of what they had just discussed. The University, with its apparent scientific focus and vast grounds, seemed like a fascinating place, yet shrouded in mystery. A place that, for many, could represent a new opportunity to explore the limits of knowledge without the shadows of the past lurking. For others, however, it remained just that: a rumor, a story that might never be confirmed.
"How did you find out about all this?" the skeptical man asked, crossing his arms and staring at the first man, as if trying to unravel the truth behind his words.
The confident man leaned back in his chair, pleased with the attention he had garnered. His smile widened slightly before he answered. "It was pure chance, I assure you. A few months ago, a spice trader stopped by my shop. He was a peculiar man, with an accent I couldn't place and a surprising amount of knowledge about distant lands. While we were negotiating the price of some rare herbs, he mentioned that he came from this island. At first, I didn't think anything of it, but then he started talking about the university and the rumors circulating in his region."
"And what exactly did he say?" the third man persisted, leaning forward curiously.
"Well, according to him, the University isn't just a place of learning. It's a center of innovation, where scholars gather to explore the unknown." But what really caught my attention was when he mentioned Devil Fruits. Apparently, some professors are obsessed with deciphering their secrets. They want to understand not only how they work, but also how they could replicate their effects. This merchant said he'd heard of experiments attempting to synthesize similar abilities without actually consuming a fruit. Can you imagine what that would mean? The man paused dramatically, letting his words sink in.
The skeptic raised an eyebrow, still unconvinced. "And what proof do you have that this merchant wasn't making it all up? It could have been a story to entertain you while he closed the deal."
"Ah, but that's the interesting part," the first one replied, a twinkle in his eye. "After our conversation, he handed me a small notebook. He said he'd found it at a market around here and that it contained notes from one of those professors. I looked it over, and while many of the pages are damaged, there are diagrams and formulas that don't look like simple scribbles." Sure, I don't understand half of what's written, but I understand enough to know it's not something common. What I saw there convinced me there's something bigger going on in that place.
The third, intrigued, asked cautiously, "Do you have that notebook with you?"
The confident man shook his head. "I put it in a safe place. It's not something I want to carry around with me, especially in a place like this. But if you ever have the chance to tour this place forever, I recommend you look for more information. Maybe you'll find something that confirms my words... or refutes them."
"University…" the third murmured thoughtfully. "That place seems to be shrouded in mystery. But besides Devil Fruits, what else did that merchant mention?"
The confident man leaned forward slightly, as if he were about to reveal an even more important secret. "Well, now that you mention it, he also mentioned something that intrigued me. According to him, there are rumors of ancient cultures being studied. Apparently, some scholars believe they could decipher not only texts, but also lost techniques from ancient kingdoms. Imagine. That could change history as we know it."
The skeptic frowned, clearly puzzled. "Ancient cultures? I thought they were a mystery reserved for archaeologists and One Piece-obsessed pirates. Why would a university be interested in that?"
"That's a good question," the confident one replied with a shrug. But according to the merchant, they're not looking to decipher Poneglyphs; they believe there are things that contain more information than meets the eye. There are theories that other ruins could hide three-dimensional maps, alchemical recipes, or even lost technology. And if they manage to replicate the material, imagine the applications: indestructible buildings, tools that don't wear out, weapons that are impossible to break.
The third let out a low, impressed whistle. "That sounds too ambitious. Do you really think anyone could pull something like that off?"
"I don't know," the confident one admitted, "but if there's one place they could try, it's there. According to the merchant, that university holds many secret objects. There are rumors that some nobles fund secret research there, seeking any advantage they can gain in their struggles for power."
The skeptic shook his head, still incredulous. "It all sounds too fantastical. Devil Fruits, ancient cultures, lost technology... What else?" They have a map of One Piece hidden in their archives?
The confident man laughed softly. "You didn't mention it, but I wouldn't be surprised." According to the merchant, they teach subjects such as advanced medicine, specialized sword combat, and even naval techniques that are considered secret. If that's true, we could be witnessing the greatest discovery of our era… or the greatest danger. "It's a strong civilization," he replied, his eyes shining with admiration. "The university is in the interior region, surrounded by vast plains that seem endless, valleys protected by mountains, and navigable rivers that connect to other territories. It's near a city called Vitria, an enclave of knowledge and culture amidst rugged lands and pirate-infested coasts. They say that in there are not only public libraries filled with ancient and rare volumes, but also open-air theaters where plays that combine history and philosophy are performed." Furthermore, the study areas are protected by a special corps of armed scholars, who ensure that learning is never interrupted by external threats.
"How do you get into that university?" one of them asked, his tone betraying barely concealed interest.
"It's not easy," the third replied with a serious expression. "Registration is rigorous and full of requirements. First, applicants must pass a series of aptitude tests that assess their intelligence, creativity, and ability to solve complex problems. Then, they must submit letters of recommendation from respected figures in their communities, renowned individuals who vouch for their potential. In some cases, demonstration of specific skills is required, such as mastery of a particular discipline or the ability to apply knowledge in a practical way. And, of course, tuition is expensive. Only the most dedicated or the wealthiest manage to overcome these barriers. However, there is an interesting detail: the higher the applicant's intelligence and the better their test scores, the lower the tuition costs. This has allowed some bright young people from humble backgrounds to gain admission, although it remains an exception. On the other hand, nobles often send their children there as a symbol of prestige, ensuring their lineage is associated with learning and the intellectual elite.
"And what happens once inside?" one persisted, growing intrigued.
"Once admitted, students gain access to resources: laboratories, specialized workshops, and, of course, the libraries I mentioned. There are also mentors, experts in various fields, who guide students in their research and projects. It's a place where knowledge is not only preserved but constantly expanded."
"And how do we know you're not just making it all up?" the skeptic asked, nodding at an empty tankard on the table. "After all, you don't seem exactly sober telling this story."
The confident man burst out laughing, waving his hand as if to shoo away doubts. "Oh, come on! Of course he'd had a little to drink... or maybe more than a little." But believe me, it's real. The person who told me had a twinkle in their eyes, as if they knew something no one else does. I don't think everything they said was made up.
The skeptic crossed his arms, visibly annoyed. "A twinkle in the eyes? Is that your criterion for judging the veracity of a story? Please. You yourself were so drunk that you probably would have sworn you'd seen a Sea King dancing in the tavern if someone had suggested it to you."
The third, who had remained thoughtful until now, chimed in with a more neutral tone. "Well, let's admit that the story sounds fascinating, but also a bit exaggerated. Lost technology, nobles funding secret research... It's as if you've gathered all the legends of the past few centuries and mixed them with a little alcohol."
"Exactly!" exclaimed the skeptic, pointing at the third as if he'd just won an argument. "Even if the place exists, I highly doubt it's everything you say it is." It's probably just an ordinary university with an exotic name.
The unsuspecting man shook his head in frustration. "You're missing the point. It's not just what I heard, but how they told it. There were details in the story that didn't seem improvised. Plus, they mentioned specific names: professors, students, even research titles. Why would I go to all this trouble to make something like that up?"
"Why?" the skeptic countered, raising another mug of beer as if it were irrefutable evidence. "Because you're drunk. And because drunks love to tell stories. It's what they do."
The third sighed, trying to calm things down. "Okay, let's assume there's some truth to what you're saying. What do you propose we do? Go there and see for ourselves? Because, honestly, I'm not sure it's worth traveling to a place that might be nothing more than a myth."
The confident man leaned forward, a spark of excitement in his eyes. "That's exactly what I'm proposing. If there's even a chance that all this is true, we can't ignore it. Think of what we might discover. If you're afraid it's a waste of time, you can stay here. But I… I'm going. I've decided now, I'm quitting my merchant role and leaving?"
For a moment, the skeptic seemed hesitant, but finally shook his head. "If you decide to go, don't expect me to follow you. I'm not chasing drunken tales. But if you come back with proof… then we'll talk."
The confident man smiled, satisfied. "That's all I need. And when I return, we won't just talk. We'll change the world."
From the shadows of a dimly lit corner, Aizen watched and listened intently. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes, as sharp as blades, constantly reminded him of his current limitations. His body, now reduced to the fragility and vigor of a thirteen-year-old boy, was a constant reminder of his current limitations. Although his posture was relaxed, the underlying tension in his thoughts was undeniable.
His eyes, as sharp as blades, followed every movement of the three individuals before him. The words they exchanged were not simple phrases; they were pieces of a puzzle taking shape in his mind. The description of the university, with its unparalleled resources and air of exclusivity, intrigued him deeply. Yet it also aroused a calculated wariness. "A place designed for the very best... or those with the means to appear so. There is no doubt they hide something beyond conventional knowledge."
His hand rested on the pommel of his sword, feeling the familiar weight of Kyōka Suigetsu. It was still there, still responding to his touch, but it was only a weakened reflection of what it had once been. No matter how much he concentrated, how much he tried to invoke absolute hypnosis, the essence of his power remained distant, blurred like the echo of a forgotten melody.
He took a deep breath. He couldn't afford the mistake of impatience.
His body was the first obstacle. His muscles still didn't respond with the precision he remembered, and while his battle instinct was still there, his speed and endurance were shadows of what they had been. Shunpo, a technique he once executed as naturally as breathing, now required absurd concentration for the blink of an eye. His movements weren't clumsy, but they lacked the lethal elegance that had defined him.
The reflection in the window brought back the image of a thirteen-year-old boy, with softer features and eyes that, despite the youth of his new body, retained the same calculating depth as ever. It wasn't a simple transformation. His very essence had changed.
The question that lingered in his mind was time. How long would it take to regain his prowess? Months? Years? In his current state, venturing into an unknown world without sufficient information would be foolish. He needed a base. He needed resources. And above all, he needed to regain the ability to move without restriction. Shunpo. The sword. The clarity of his mind in combat.
The university could provide that. Not because of its knowledge, for the erudition of the men of this world was insignificant compared to what he already knew. No, its usefulness lay in something simpler: stability. An environment where he could strengthen himself without interruption, where he could analyze with patience and strategy. It wasn't a definitive place, nor one that interested him more than necessary. Only a stepping stone on a much larger path.
Outside those walls, the world was chaos. Rumors of enormous powers, of forces that shaped continents, of creatures and warriors that defied the laws of existence. None of this worried him; rather, it intrigued him. But he wasn't going to face the unknown unprepared. A game of strategy isn't won by moving pieces without a plan.
His gaze turned from the window and scanned the room. The wooden floor creaked under his weight, reminding him of the fragility of the place. It wasn't his world, but it wasn't an obstacle either. It was an opportunity. If in his previous existence he had reached the pinnacle of evolution, here he would have to start all over again. It didn't matter. Greatness lay not in the power one possessed, but in the inevitability of achieving it.
He analyzed his situation with his characteristic coldness. In a new world, with his abilities reduced to a vestige of what they had been, his options were limited. Staying in the village meant finding a means of subsistence. He could work at any menial trade, but in his current physical condition, being a simple laborer or helper at the inn would be a burden, a distraction from his real goal.
"Unacceptable," he thought, looking with disdain at the men drinking loudly in the other corner. He hadn't come this far to settle for the life of an ordinary man.
Killing and stealing weren't viable options either. Not with his current strength. His pride burned at the realization, but the truth was undeniable: in this state, without decent control over his reiryoku, without the speed of shunpo or the swordsmanship he had once mastered with ease, facing experienced combatants was an unnecessary risk. And while his mind remained his greatest weapon, he lacked the resources to fully utilize it.
"I must consider the most pragmatic option."
The university.
Rumors spoke of a center of knowledge, an institution where the world's greatest minds gathered. A place of study, of information, where he might find fragments of power buried in forgotten books and the science of this world. It wasn't his ultimate goal, nor even his second choice, but it served as a means to an end.
"If I stay long enough, I will be able to restore my body to a functioning state. Regain shunpo. Master the sword once more. With that, I will be able to explore this world without relying on established refuges and paths."
His fingers tapped the table in a leisurely rhythm. The idea of spending months or years in one place deeply displeased him, but patience was a virtue he mastered masterfully. Staying at the university until he recovered his essentials was not a waste of time. Becoming strong again was his priority.
And then, he could continue with his true ambition.
His eyes lifted for a moment, scanning the room indifferently. Men and women, mere pieces on a board he was just beginning to understand. None of them would understand the magnitude of his existence. It didn't matter. They were ephemeral.
He exhaled slowly. His decision was made.
Tomorrow he would leave for the university