Chapter 108 – 108 ⥤ The Self-Awareness of the One Who Slipped Through

“The Soul Extraction Room has been destroyed — what about all the research results…”

“Forget the research results! Hurry and save people — Seventh Seat Aizen is still inside!”

“How dare these criminals wreak havoc in our Twelfth Division!”

“Seventh Seat Aizen, are you alright? I’ll get you out immediately!”

The crowd frantically rescued victims from the ruins, finding them largely unharmed though visibly shaken.

Sensing that certain someone’s Reiatsu had vanished from the barracks, Aizen let out a brief sigh of relief, though a flicker of resignation crossed his eyes.

Someone like himself, making sacrifices for others?

Even cooperating with others on matters entirely unrelated to his interests.

Since childhood, he had witnessed life’s harsh realities and understood human nature, priding himself on achieving complete indifference, showing reverence for nothing.

But when had this philosophy begun to change?

Aizen fell into deep contemplation…

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Meanwhile, near the Soul Calibration Research Lab.

Silk fabrics descended from the sky, unfurling like a graceful mirage. As the scene emerged, countless vines disintegrated, reverting to Reishi that dispersed into the air.

A figure lay bound tightly by the silk, Kidō inscriptions materializing on the fabric, sealing away all spiritual power.

The Captain of the 7th Division, Okama Shinji.

His eyes now brimmed with terror, not daring to meet Senjumaru’s gaze.

The woman others admired appeared to him as menacing as a venomous snake.

One could hardly imagine what psychological torture had transformed this once-principled Shinigami Captain into his current state.

Yet Senjumaru felt little interest in him — his weak psychological resilience alone had led to this outcome.

She had encountered many Shinigami Captains, and ones like Okama barely ranked as mediocre.

Forget about Shinigami of Genryūsai’s caliber — even the current Captain of the 12th Division, Kirio Hikifune, far surpassed him. They existed in entirely different realms.

Instead, Senjumaru’s interest lay with that young man who had recently infiltrated her research facility.

A perfect Spiritual Body with limitless potential. Among countless experimental subjects, she had never encountered his equal.

If not for the threat of Genryūsai’s wrath, she would have already claimed Akira for her research.

At this thought, regret flickered in Senjumaru’s eyes before her gaze lowered and her red lips curved into a slight smile.

“Before departing for the Soul King’s Palace, perhaps I can find a suitable opportunity…”

The chaos in the 12th Division persisted, with other intruders — unaware the mission was “complete” — still desperately searching for documents containing the Gikon technology.

Under the night sky, flames reached toward the heavens.

When Senjumaru took action, all chaos instantly subsided — her overwhelming strength was evident.

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Under the moonlight, a stealthy figure quietly made his way along the return path, slipping into the heavily guarded 6th District.

When he arrived at the magnificent mansion, he halted abruptly.

Akira examined himself — his clothes remained pristine, untouched by dust, exactly as when he’d left. Not even a scratch marked his body.

Seeing this, he frowned slightly.

Since their visit to the 12th Division, Aizen had grown too lax — fighting for so long without leaving a single mark.

How could they hope to reach the pinnacle like this?

After brief contemplation, he methodically tore his stealth suit to shreds and used his Reienken to inflict various cuts and wounds, making himself appear quite pitiful.

Deciding any further disguise would be excessive, Akira vaulted over the mansion wall.

As expected, Kusagusa Segawa paced anxiously in the courtyard.

“Brother Kusane, I’m back.” Akira rushed over in three quick steps, his face a perfect blend of tension and excitement — a masterful display of his acting skills.

His time with Aizen had taught him the art of deception. Combined with precise facial muscle control, he could easily fool those who didn’t know him well.

Of course, for people like Aizen, Genryūsai, and Unohana who knew him intimately, his acting skills proved futile.

They needed but one glance to see through his schemes — he couldn’t hide anything from them.

“I’m Kusagusa, not Kusane.” Kusagusa sighed helplessly before asking, “Why are you alone? Where are the others?”

“We split up.” Akira replied, blinking as he lied effortlessly, “The two with me got separated, but fortunately, being stronger, I defeated the enemy and retrieved the Gikon technology.”

Kusagusa’s eyes lit up at this news, and he grabbed Akira’s hand, leading him deeper into the mansion.

Through several spacious corridors, they arrived at a study.

Ansai Tsunayashiro sat behind the desk, fixing them with his sharp gaze.

Akira repeated his prepared explanation, emphasizing his role in the night’s operation and shamelessly claiming all credit.

Ansai listened with patience, his expression shifting subtly as his gaze grew increasingly serious.

His eyes narrowed when Akira claimed he had repelled an enemy with a single punch and destroyed the Soul Extraction Room with a Hadō spell.

He had initially dismissed this man as a mere extra, but unexpectedly, the young man had turned the entire situation around — and even more surprisingly, had retrieved the crucial item.

“Where is the Gikon technology?”

“Right here.” Akira presented the papers containing the Gikon manual. They were wrinkled from being carried in his clothes, with tears in places.

To Ansai, these imperfections only enhanced their authenticity.

After a quick examination, his expertise made it easy to verify the documents’ legitimacy.

As he prepared to study them more thoroughly, he noticed the young man across the desk — covered in wounds, lips parched and cracked.

“Well done, Lord Kisaragi.” Setting down the papers, Ansai spoke with warmth, “This mission succeeded entirely thanks to you. When our plan comes to fruition, your contributions will be honored above all others.”

Akira merely blinked, fixing him with an intent stare.

Ansai hesitated, briefly puzzled, then understood the meaning behind that expectant gaze.

“I keep my promises. The Golden Seal Noble Assembly will convene in three days. There, I shall nominate you as a new lower-ranking noble. This mansion will become yours as well.”

To Ansai, this was a trivial concession. Once his plan succeeded, all of Soul Society would kneel before him.

Then, he would reign as Soul Society’s sole god!

These current possessions meant nothing in comparison. Besides, Akira’s perfect execution of the mission warranted reward.

“Very well, very well.” The young man nodded eagerly, greed evident in his expression, “Thank you for your generosity, Lord Tsunayashiro.”

This reaction put Ansai further at ease.

He didn’t fear subordinates with desires — he feared those who wanted nothing. Desire was a leash; those who wanted could always be controlled through satisfaction.

“You’ve worked hard tonight. Get some rest.” He could barely contain his impatience to study the Gikon technology.

Akira and Kusagusa rose, bowed, and left the study together.

In the corridor, they engaged in lengthy conversation.

Kusagusa openly displayed his admiration for Akira, who had achieved such distinction so soon after joining Ansai’s service.

With the lord’s recognition secured, his prospects seemed limitless.

Akira vowed that should he rise to prominence, he would never forget “Kusane’s” guidance and support.

In that moment, the bond between them deepened significantly.

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The next morning.

When news of the 12th Division’s uprising spread throughout the Seireitei, Gosuke arrived punctually at his lord’s dormitory door, offering a respectful greeting.

“Lord Magistrate, a Jigokuchō message has arrived. The Captain’s meeting will be held in an hour. We must leave now to avoid being late.”

Akira opened the wooden door, gazing puzzled at the man kneeling before him.

“What does the Captain’s meeting have to do with me? Shouldn’t you be attending?”

Gosuke sighed helplessly, “I’m merely the Acting Captain. This meeting requires both Captain and Vice-Captain to attend. If I go alone, the Captain-Commander will hold me accountable. Please, freshen up and join me.”

He had completely given up hope for this future Captain. Despite his incredible talent, Akira’s methods were far too unorthodox.

Currently, apart from those maintaining essential barracks operations, Akira had dispatched the entire 11th Division to spread faith throughout the Rukongai.

More outrageous still, just days ago, he had spent a fortune building a luxurious shrine in the prime location of North Rukongai’s 1st District.

His actions made it clear that he no longer took the Ise family seriously at all.

The sole consolation was that, outside of matters concerning faith propagation, Akira proved reasonably receptive to advice.

Soon, both men completed their preparations and headed directly to the 1st Division barracks.

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Captain’s Meeting Room.

In the spacious, bright room, Genryūsai sat in the chief position, his aged hands resting on his spiral-patterned staff, his dignified gaze sweeping over those who had arrived on time.

In the early hours of this morning, Chōjirō had awakened him with news of the uprising at the 12th Division barracks.

Though the losses were minimal, this attack was an undeniable affront to the Gotei 13’s dignity.

“Regarding last night’s events — as you’ve all surely heard — the Twelfth Division barracks suffered a shocking attack. The perpetrator was none other than Seventh Division, Captain Okama Shinji!”

The Captains’ faces showed varying degrees of shock.

As colleagues, they had worked closely together over the years.

Shunsui Kyōraku, in particular, had spent many nights drinking with Okama in the pleasure district. Okama’s generous nature had made him a dear friend.

Who could have predicted his betrayal of the Seireitei? What a shame.

Now he’d need to find another drinking companion.

Shunsui sighed heavily, his weathered face resigned. The other Captains wore similar expressions.

“He has been detained in the Senzaikyū, awaiting the Central 46’s verdict. He will answer for his crimes!” Genryūsai’s deep, authoritative voice resonated through the meeting room, making everyone cower beneath his presence.

{T/N: Senzaikyū = Palace of Penitence, where prisoners are sent before being sentenced to death at Sōkyoku Hill for various reasons, in this case treason.}

Many Vice-Captains paled at these words.

Only the 11th Division’s representatives showed contrasting reactions.

Acting Captain Gosuke appeared utterly helpless, his face ashen and beaded with cold sweat.

Meanwhile, Akira stood behind him, relaxed as a spring breeze, completely at ease.

For him, this level of reprimand was barely a fraction of what he was accustomed to. Old man Yama was being quite gentle now, at least in his eyes.

Genryūsai paid little attention to his foolish disciple, his stern gaze fixed on the other Captains. After a brief pause, his aged voice continued.

“But we face an even graver matter. According to witness accounts and scene analysis, not all rebels were captured — one fish slipped through our net. To preserve our dignity, the Seireitei gates will be closed immediately, patrols tripled, and we shall arrest these criminals to uphold Soul Society’s laws!”

Upon hearing this, many of the more laid-back Captains wore expressions of dismay, as if facing their doom.

This reaction was most evident among the 5th and 8th Divisions.

Meanwhile, a certain escaped “fish” calmly observed the meeting room’s occupants, displaying remarkable composure despite being a suspect.

He exchanged occasional glances with Yoruichi Shihōin.

The concern in her eyes suggested she had already deduced the identity of this escaped “fish”.

She was already imagining this fish dressed in priest robes and summoning a one-eyed sacred black fish.

As the discussion drew to a close, Genryūsai tapped the floor to gather attention and formally concluded the meeting.

The moment he finished speaking, Akira sprang toward Yoruichi.

But before he could take two steps, an authoritative gaze stopped him. Genryūsai fixed his narrowed eyes on the sprightly youth and spoke gravely.

“You stay behind. I have something to ask you.”

Akira’s heart lurched as dark forebodings washed over him…

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