Chapter 187 – 187 ⥤ Trouble Strikes Again

It was dusk, the sunset painting the sky in rich red hues.

When the door opened and the two entered, they found a figure with white paint smeared across his face, bloodshot eyes, and an expression of pure madness. He raised both hands, letting out a harsh, unhinged laugh.

Upon seeing Akira, Mayuri lunged forward, his eyes flashing with sudden clarity, his expression a bizarre mix of mania and gratitude.

“Captain, I’ve discovered a new path! Hahaha, I’ve done it!”

Seeing the man’s uncontrollable frenzy, Akira raised his hand and firmly slapped the madman’s shoulder.

“You fool, what have you done?!”

Perhaps due to his naturally extreme personality, Mayuri didn’t mind the sudden slap. Instead, his bloodshot eyes grew even clearer.

He led the Captain to the control panel and began explaining his discoveries and theories in detail.

“Soul fragments, under external forces, will spontaneously gather. Under the Ryūdoji clan’s control, they offered up their memories, which were forged into a Shinenju. Since there’s no soul to guide them, Memory Beads (or Rosary) are merely items similar to spirit tools, like those Hōgu (Treasure Tools) of the Shihōin family.”

Akira raised an eyebrow, recalling the Shihōin family Tenshi Heisō (Heavenly Gifted Armaments) that Yoruichi had once shown him.

The Hōgu that enabled flight in Soul Society’s sky, the divine bandages that could seal Zanpakutō releases, the Bugu (Armaments) kunai rope that could freely extend and possess different abilities…

Compared to a Shinigami’s Zanpakutō, these items might have lower limits. Yet because they had no usage requirements, they remained quite powerful in their own right.

He hadn’t expected the Shinenju to be similar. It had to be said that as a scientist, Mayuri’s knowledge was truly vast, even encompassing the Shihōin family’s secrets.

“But during my recent research, I discovered something unexpected.” Mayuri’s eyes gleamed as he stared intently at the glass tube ahead, “Under the influence of external Reishi, the memories within the Shinenju began to produce a dominant entity, with countless soul memories clustering together, evolving toward a complete individual. Captain, do you know what this means?”

Akira furrowed his brow and tentatively answered, “The birth of a new life form different from Shinigami?”

With these words, the laboratory fell silent. Both Mayuri and Aizen stared at him with utterly bewildered looks.

Akira: “?”

As soon as the question mark appeared, he became furious. He felt his pride had been insulted – as the highest intellect in Soul Society, these two actually showed such distrust in him.

Where is the justice? Where is the law?!

“Ahem, Captain, you’re absolutely right.” Mayuri said, trying to pacify him, “As expected of the Eleventh Division’s genius, deducing the whole situation from just a few words. Indeed, the Shinenju is merely a crude imitation of the existing life system! It has inspired me to pursue a new ideal — to create new souls from nothing and become this world’s creator!”

His mouth split into a manic grin.

“Though these words may sound like mere fantasies, my mind has never been clearer, my thoughts racing at peak efficiency. Thus, I’ve named it the ‘Nemuri Project’—meaning foolish daydreams in a wakeful state…”

Hearing this, Akira’s body trembled repeatedly before he stared at Mayuri with eager eyes, grabbing his hand and shaking it vigorously.

“Please let me join your project!”

Mayuri: “?”

He couldn’t quite grasp this man’s reasoning, but judging from his expression and what he knew of him, allowing him to join the Nemuri Project would surely lead to irreversible consequences.

As Mayuri pondered how to refuse, Akira was already lost in his memories.

Given how mysterious Mayuri’s past was, he wasn’t certain when exactly the scientist had completed the Nemuri Project. His only clear memory was of its final product: Nemu.

As a transmigrator, he’d be remiss not to involve himself in such an intriguing matter. After all, this type of emotionless girl held a certain appeal for those with particular interests.

The sole drawback was that, as Mayuri’s creation, Nemu shared his inclinations — she enjoyed conducting forbidden experiments in her spare time and frequently experimented on herself.

Still, this was excellent news. Mayuri had found his new purpose, and Akira would gain a new “toy”. A perfect arrangement.

At this moment, Aizen, who had been silently observing, spoke up.

“Is the Shinenju the core of the Nemuri Project?”

Mayuri spread his right hand, tapping the control station’s metal panel as he grinned, “Hardly. True creation means forming souls from nothing — creating new Shinigami. Using the Shinenju’s power would make this no different from the previous Modified Soul Project.”

The Modified Soul Project had been inspired by Sōya Azachiro’s plan to modify Rukongai residents, with its fundamental technology derived from Kirio’s Gikon Technology.

Aizen appeared lost in thought.

“The Shinenju has nothing to do with my upcoming research.” Mayuri said, pointing, “It merely helped me find the right path — nothing more.”

As he spoke, he retrieved the blue-green jade bead from the glass tube and handed it to Akira.

“Captain, I request a few days’ leave. The initial planning of the Nemuri Project demands absolute precision — we cannot afford even the slightest error.”

Akira gladly agreed. Unlike certain lazy subordinates who did the bare minimum, Mayuri had shown true dedication since joining his command, throwing himself wholeheartedly into every task.

He didn’t even require payment; a small amount of Mimihagi power each month for his research sufficed.

Tucking the Shinenju into his clothes, he left the 11th Division with Aizen.

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Rukongai, underground laboratory.

Aizen placed the Shinenju on the observation equipment, and with his skilled operation, data immediately appeared on the massive screen before them.

Akira frowned as he studied the changing numbers.

Thanks to his time with Aizen, Kisuke, and Mayuri, he could vaguely comprehend the screen’s contents — three-phase spirit waves, sixth-order frequency Reishi interference, soul sublimation, abnormal spirit network stabilization…

Oh no, his head was itching!

Akira shuddered and quickly averted his gaze, focusing instead on Ganryū, who had just regained consciousness.

When their eyes met, Ganryū was the one who shuddered. That moment of eye contact brought back memories of his recent defeat — how this seemingly young man’s overwhelming combat prowess had utterly crushed the entire Ryūdoji clan.

Most striking was how Ganryū saw in Akira the shadow of Soul Society’s former ruler — Shigekuni Yamamoto!

As they locked eyes, Aizen finished his operations. After recording the data, he removed the Shinenju and placed it directly in Akira’s hand.

“You don’t want it?” Akira asked, bewildered, “We came all the way to the 11th Division just for these few seconds?”

Aizen shook his head, “I’ve collected all the relevant data. The Shinenju is of no further use to me. If you don’t want it, take it to Hueco Mundo for disposal. According to my research, as long as it isn’t destroyed in the Dangai, it won’t cause a collision between the two worlds.”

Hearing this, Ganryū’s pupils constricted.

He couldn’t fathom how the weapon his clan had spent centuries developing against Soul Society had been decoded in mere minutes by this unremarkable young man. Were they truly so inferior that they didn’t even merit being called fools?

An overwhelming sense of defeat crushed his spirit, leaving him completely dejected.

Hearing these words, Akira’s expression grew troubled.

“Destroy it? That seems like such a waste. If I take it home and raise it, who knows? It might even turn into a beautiful girl someday.”

Aizen deliberately ignored the nonsense.

With this guy’s influence, the Shinenju was more likely to become a Husky than a beautiful girl.

After some more banter, Aizen shooed away the persistent fellow and turned expressionlessly toward Ganryū.

The real experiment was just beginning.

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When Akira arrived at his loyal 11th Division, Kaname greeted him with a grave expression.

“My lord, there’s trouble.”

Akira furrowed his brow and asked in confusion, “Did I get exposed? Is Yama-jii leading the First Division elite forces to attack?”

Kaname: “…”

Despite his daily efforts to learn, he still couldn’t keep up with his Captain’s thought process.

“It’s two powerful Shinigami.” Kaname explained, “One is bald, naturally fierce, and extremely battle-hungry. The other is handsome, and judging by his Reiatsu, he’s also very powerful.”

Hearing this description, Akira was amused.

He had a vivid impression of these two good friends. He’d thought they wouldn’t report to the 11th Division for a while yet, but they’d arrived surprisingly quickly.

“Lead the way.”

The two passed through the towering steel fortress to arrive at the new fighting arena.

On the spacious, flat grassland, a massive Kidō barrier released by spirit tools formed a huge dome covering the battlefield.

Inside, the battle raged fierce.

The big dog and baldy were locked in brutal combat, their blades clashing and sending brilliant sparks flying. Both man and dog were covered in ghastly wounds — some crusted over with scabs while others still oozed fresh blood. Even through the Kidō barrier, one could smell the heavy scent of blood.

Sajin delivered a heavy slash that knocked the Zanpakutō from baldy’s hand.

Weaponless, baldy stared dumbfounded at his bloodied, split palm, about to concede when he caught sight of something—

Sajin had planted his Zanpakutō in the grass and, with his two furry paws striking together, let out an explosive roar as he charged straight at him.

Seeing this, baldy smiled. In all his years roaming the Rukongai, he’d rarely encountered opponents so much to his taste. Kenpachi Zaraki was one, and now this big dog was another.

Soon, the two figures of vastly different heights and species began trading brutal blow for blow.

Watching from the side, Akira nodded in satisfaction.

“This is how it should be fought — no, this is the only way to fight!”

His daily teachings hadn’t been in vain; Sajin had grasped the essence. How could mere Zanpakutō compare to a body tempered through countless battles?!

“Excuse me, are you Captain Kisaragi?”

Just then, an unfamiliar voice rang out as a young man in a purple patterned kimono with medium-length hair appeared, bowing respectfully.

“I am Yumichika Ayasegawa from Rukongai, and I’m friends with that fool in the barrier.”

Unlike Ikkaku Madarame, Yumichika was quite mannerly.

“We heard about Kenpachi Zaraki joining the 11th Division, and that fool Ikkaku came looking for him. He couldn’t bear seeing someone like Zaraki become another’s subordinate, so he came to seek justice. But the current situation proves how wrong he was. Even an unseated Shinigami can beat him to such a state — it shows just how powerful the 11th Division truly is.”

Akira grinned, “You’re too kind. The 11th Division’s current success is indeed inseparable from my diligent cultivation.”

The first line was modest, but the second claimed all the credit for himself.

Though Yumichika had roamed the world for many years, he’d never met someone with such thick skin. Yet this sincere and unaffected attitude made him strangely likeable.

“Zaraki is indeed in the 11th Division.” Akira stroked his chin, reaching out with his senses before adding seriously, “Though it seems his Reiatsu isn’t in the barracks right now.”

Kaname added from the side, “Third Seat Zaraki went to Rukongai on a mission. The Eighth Division reported large Hollow sightings in the Kusajishi District.”

Akira nodded without saying more.

Since he was often absent from the barracks, Zaraki could only cross swords with Sajin, Kaname, and the others — but they hadn’t grown strong enough yet. How could they withstand his devastation?

As they conversed, a murderous aura emanated from outside the barracks. Dense Reiatsu, filled with intense bloodlust, instantly blanketed the entire fighting arena.

They saw a man with wild hair approach menacingly, carrying a jagged long sword. His black Shinigami uniform was still stained with fresh blood, his presence radiating ferocity.

Kenpachi Zaraki had returned.

Seeing this, Yumichika’s eyes lit up, but just as he was about to step forward and reunite, Zaraki beat him to it. He pointed his sword directly at Akira as a ferocious smile spread across his face.

“Captain, let’s fight to the death!”

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