Chapter 106 – 106 ⥤ A Difference in Style

“Me?!”

Akira’s face showed genuine shock, as if he’d heard something impossible.

He strongly suspected his cover as an infiltrator had been discovered — why else would they assign him such a suicidal mission?

Either that, or Ansai had lost his mind — drinking himself senseless late at night and spouting nonsense.

Why didn’t this old fool ask him to assassinate old man Genryūsai instead?

Stealing from the 12th Division — who would even suggest such madness?

Compared to this, Akira thought assassinating the bald eagle would be easier. Both meant death, but falling into Senjumaru’s hands would mean being toyed with before dying.

Genryūsai, at least, would make it quick — one strike and not even ashes would remain.

As for Kirio Hikifune, she was clearly no saint either — though really, none of the scientists in Soul Society were normal.

“Is there a problem?” Ansai asked with apparent concern, playing the role of caring superior perfectly.

“Yes.” Akira replied bluntly, unlike those showy frauds outside who’d stay silent until problems became unsolvable, “The Twelfth Division is heavily guarded. Beyond researchers, they have combat-ready Shinigami everywhere. Their defenses are endless — traps, Spirit Tools, Kidō barriers, you name it.”

He analyzed the situation from every angle, like a true strategist.

“And with Captain Hikifune there, my small frame wouldn’t last two strikes.”

Ansai looked at the young man with surprise, not expecting such thorough consideration.

Though he’d only recently joined their side, he was already thinking through every detail.

“There’s no need to worry about that.” He said in a deep voice, “Kirio Hikifune recently left for the Dangai to gather test materials. The Twelfth Division is currently unmanned — it’s the perfect time for our operation.”

Outwardly, Akira beamed with joy at the mission’s prospects.

Inside, however, his expression twisted into a grimace.

Sure, Kirio was absent, but Senjumaru remained — and she was about to join the Zero Division.

This woman terrified him even more than old man Genryūsai, with her habit of stripping people bare, examining them with that calculating gaze, and taking their measurements.

In all his years infiltrating Soul Society, no one had ever made his scalp tingle quite like her.

Despite his considerable growth in strength, Akira knew he stood no chance against her.

The gap between them was insurmountable — like a tiny pony trying to pull a massive cart ten times its size. No matter how much you struggled, you’d only end up foaming at the mouth from exhaustion.

“Besides, you’re not the main force.” Ansai said with a low chuckle, “Someone else, far stronger than you, will lead this mission. You’ll simply follow his orders and cooperate. Once we succeed, the noble seat and mansion I promised will be yours. This old man always keeps his word!”

As he finished speaking, other nobles joined in — some offering congratulations on Akira’s future noble seat, others muttering jealous, sarcastic remarks.

A cold wind swept through the window, bringing a chill as the clamor in the hall intensified.

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That night, under the hazy moon.

In the vast mansion courtyard, black-clad figures gathered with concealed faces. A layer of hazy Kidō light (Kyokkō) coated their forms, adding extra protection to mask their identities.

Akira stood among them, silently praying about the operation ahead.

He hoped that woman who lusted after his body wasn’t in the 12th Division — or better yet, was busy catching up on beauty sleep, too preoccupied to notice their actions.

“Everyone knows the target.” Ansai stood before them, his voice grave, “We have only one chance. If we fail, everything starts over. For our ambitions, for ultimate supremacy! This mission must succeed — failure is not an option. This old man will await your good news here!”

Despite the mediocre speech, he managed to ignite their enthusiasm. Akira watched as veins bulged on the necks of those nearby, their faces flushed red.

He wondered if Ansai had consumed some kind of morale-boosting fruit.

“Yes, Lord Tsunayashiro!” Everyone shouted in unison, “We’ll complete the mission even at the cost of our lives!”

‘Don’t drag me into your death pact.’ Akira shuddered, feeling he’d stumbled into a wolf’s den.

Kusagusa hadn’t mentioned they’d be going on a mission tonight when he’d sent him to infiltrate as an undercover agent.

Now that he was aboard this thief’s ship, there’d be no easy escape.

Though Ansai kept insisting this operation was foolproof, Akira couldn’t shake his unease.

The psychological trauma Senjumaru had inflicted still haunted him, even after all this time.

“Move out!”

At Ansai’s command, everyone vanished into the night with Shunpo.

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Under the hazy moonlight, black clothes provided perfect cover.

As Akira followed the group, scanning his surroundings, he realized just how formidable his teammates were.

Judging by their Reiatsu alone, most matched his upper Seated Officer level. The team leader at the front possessed Captain-level strength — an enviable 3rd Class Reiatsu.

Such a powerful squad could overwhelm any Division lacking its Captain, yet here they were, sneaking through the night to steal unfinished research.

This spoke volumes about how valuable this technology was to Ansai.

With this thought, Akira quickened his Shunpo, taking two steps in three to catch up to their powerful leader.

“Boss, haven’t had the pleasure yet?”

The black-clad figure glanced sideways and replied casually, “Seventh Division, Okama Shinji.”

{T/N: Okama = Gay men, trans or drag queen; Shinji = True Ruler.}

Akira: “?”

As his silent question hung in the air, he subtly retreated.

Though he’d never heard of this person before, the name alone made him instinctively keep his distance.

First impressions stick — meeting a man, mounting a man.

The name unsettled him so much that continuing the conversation became nearly impossible.

Watching Akira’s quiet retreat, Okama couldn’t help but feel puzzled.

What was wrong with this guy? Shouldn’t he have flattered first, then introduced himself? Why did he suddenly clam up halfway through?

Despite his confusion, Okama maintained his stoic expert facade as the group swiftly moved through the night.

Thanks to their thorough preparation, they encountered no night patrols — the journey remained perfectly silent.

Until they reached the 12th Division’s quarters.

“The target could be in three locations. We’ll split up. If anyone finds it, grab it immediately. If you can’t, alert the others. Questions?” Okama explained concisely while distributing detailed maps of the research facility.

The maps’ precise annotations suggested an inside source in the 12th Division.

“Yes!”

All eyes turned to Akira as he raised his hand.

You again?

Okama’s brow creased slightly, “What’s the problem?”

“What should we do if we encounter an enemy we can’t handle?”

“Then you can only blame your bad luck.” He replied indifferently, “The 12th Division’s Lieutenant and Seated Officers are generally average in combat ability. If you can’t handle even them…”

He didn’t continue, but his meaning was clear.

Akira nodded thoughtfully.

Following Gay King — ahem, i mean — Okama’s orders, everyone once again vanished into the darkness.

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Even late at night, the 12th Division bustled with activity, its research atmosphere keeping many figures hard at work.

Avoiding detection, Akira and his two teammates made their way to a building that resembled a research laboratory.

Soul Extraction Room.

“This is where Kirio Hikifune develops her Gikon technology. The documents we need should be inside.” Rasped one of them, his voice grating like sandpaper on stone.

One member stepped forward, forming hand seals and muttering incantations. As their Reiatsu expanded, an enormous Kidō barrier materialized, enveloping the entire building in a screen of light.

With the isolation barrier in place, they drew their Zanpakutō and began working on the lock.

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Second floor of the Soul Extraction Room.

A figure stood by the window, Kyokkō concealing their Reiatsu and form, minimizing their presence.

Aizen calmly gazed at the courtyard below, confusion flickering in his brown eyes.

“Infiltrating the Twelfth Division for some mission? And why is that guy here?”

Despite Akira’s complete disguise and concealment, Aizen recognized him instantly.

It couldn’t be anyone else — that unique level of simple-mindedness was impossible to fake.

Hearing lock-picking sounds below, he paused briefly before quietly descending the stairs.

Though uncertain of his friend’s mission, their mutual understanding would make cooperation simple enough.

Soon, the lock gave way, and the three entered single file.

The other two began searching the Soul Extraction Room, rifling through files and records for hidden documents.

In an unnoticed corner, another figure formed hand seals, instantly raising a barrier that sealed all sound within the room.

Aizen’s form flickered past the two intruders.

As his sword slid home, both Shinigami — including the higher-Seated Officer — froze, crimson lines appearing across their throats.

Their life force vanished instantly.

Akira’s eyes widened as he held his breath, watching this impossibly stylish scene with pure envy, his expression as sour as if he’d bitten into a lemon.

We’re all Shinigami — so why does he have to look so cool?

Aizen turned toward Akira, but before he could speak, his friend’s hands shot up in warning.

“Don’t attack, I’m on your side!”

The swift surrender left him speechless.

Never had he encountered someone with such little fighting spirit.

“What are you doing here?”

Despite the layers of binding Kidō concealing him, Aizen was still instantly recognizable.

“Research.” He answered simply, “And you?”

“Stealing stuff.” Akira replied, blinking with frank honesty.

“…”

Was it really wise to admit that to a 12th Division member?

With just those few words, Akira had revealed everything about tonight’s events.

He left the thinking to Aizen. After all, his friend’s half-baked wisdom would surely lead them to the perfect solution.

“The Gikon technology happens to be right here.” With that, Aizen retrieved a written record from the nearby files.

Akira peered at it curiously, but one glance made his head swim.

The document was filled with incomprehensible technical terms — far too complex for him to process.

Aizen held up the record, “Should we give this to Ansai Tsunayashiro?”

Hearing this, Akira furrowed his brows in deep thought.

After a moment, he looked up, “How much do you understand about this Gikon technology?”

Aizen placed it back on the desk with a casual “Everything”.

Akira’s teeth ached as he felt the crushing pressure of his friend’s genius.

Aizen explained, “Scientific development is like this — going from zero to one is often the hardest. It’s much easier for those who come after to master it.”

The priest’s expression twitched as he avoided looking at the complex document, “Can we tamper with it a bit?”

The genius’ brow furrowed slightly before smoothing out, “I understand what you’re thinking. It should be possible.”

Without hesitation, Aizen began working at the desk, smoothly writing out a series of mind-boggling symbols and numbers.

Soon, he had produced a written record that looked nearly identical to the original.

“This version is ready for submission. The deviation won’t exceed zero point one two percent. No matter how Ansai Tsunayashiro uses this technology, there will always be unfixable flaws.”

He handed the record to Akira and destroyed the original.

If they were putting on a show, they had to do it properly.

Afterwards, the two created signs of battle in the Soul Extraction Room and disguised the injuries of the two dead men.

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Meanwhile…

In the 12th Division’s Soul Calibration Research Lab, Okama methodically searched through the stacks of materials on the bookshelf.

Deep in concentration, he failed to notice as a gentle voice drifted from behind him.

“The division barracks are quite active tonight…”

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep