Chapter 194 – 194 ⥤ The Divine Response

Hearing this, Akira’s eyes flew wide open. He sat up and stared at the elder before him in disbelief.

“Master, how can you make such baseless accusations? As Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13, you should speak with evidence.”

Genryūsai snorted with disdain, “My word is the evidence!”

He knew his wayward disciple’s talent for causing trouble all too well. With Soul Society peaceful and stable, the troublemaker must have gone elsewhere to make mischief. The Captain’s haori found in the Dangai was proof enough.

Akira grumbled under his breath, muttering about the old man’s tyranny, dictatorial rule, and abuse of seniority.

A flaming fist of love to his head quickly silenced the room.

“Tell me, what were you doing in Hueco Mundo?”

Initially, Genryūsai had wished to stay out of Akira’s affairs — his disciple had grown up and deserved privacy. Plus, as Captain of the 11th Division, the rebellious student deserved to save face before his subordinates.

But this concerned the stability of both Hueco Mundo and Soul Society. Reckless actions could trigger an uncontrollable crisis.

“Where should I begin?” Akira scratched his head thoughtfully.

He’d never expected to hide his Hueco Mundo adventures from Genryūsai — when a Division Captain repeatedly vanishes from Soul Society, even a fool would notice something amiss.

Especially the old man. Though white-bearded and thousands of years old, he was far from senile. A few lies wouldn’t fool him.

Besides, Genryūsai knew him too well — any attempt at lying would likely end with Ryūjin Jakka at his throat before he could finish a sentence.

Thankfully, he had his reliable brother, Sōsuke Aizen. While planning their Hueco Mundo scheme, Aizen had foreseen this day and prepared a countermeasure.

“Master, remember that time at Starbucks… no, I mean the Quincy of the Lichtreich?”

At these words, the room’s temperature surged. Fierce flames erupted from thin air, wrapping around the elderly frame like a demon returned from hell.

The crushing Reiatsu pressed down for just a moment before vanishing completely.

Genryūsai’s gaze softened as he studied Akira, “Don’t tell me your mischief in Hueco Mundo relates to that war from hundreds of years ago?”

Akira seized the opening, “As expected of my esteemed master, truly possessing great wisdom. Perhaps in time, the title of Soul Society’s Greatest Sage should be passed to you.”

Genryūsai: “…”

Even the most serious atmosphere would turn cheerful when it came to this rebellious disciple. Perhaps this was what Akira meant when he said the mentally ill had broad minds and simple minds found joy easily.

“The war is over.” Genryūsai said expressionlessly, “The grudge between Shinigami and Quincy has long since ended—”

Before he could finish, Akira interrupted with a raised hand, “What if I told you that Yhwach isn’t dead?”

Genryūsai frowned, “Impossible. I personally defeated Yhwach — his body was completely incinerated, even his Reiatsu was annihilated.”

Though reluctant to recall that war, whenever he did, every detail remained clear. He could still see Yhwach’s expression of disbelief.

“There are always exceptions.” Akira smiled, “You taught me that hearing is false and seeing is true, but sometimes even seeing isn’t necessarily true. According to my insider information, Yhwach lives. He’s changed his identity, transformed the Lichtreich into the Wandenreich, and hides where none could imagine. He’s accumulating power, waiting for their ‘Majesty’ to awaken from slumber and counterattack Soul Society.”

Watching his rebellious disciple speak more and more outlandishly, yet with an utterly convincing expression, Genryūsai found himself half-believing it.

He didn’t interrupt, letting the kid continue.

Akira grew more animated as he spoke, embellishing the intelligence from Sōken Ishida and relating it all to Genryūsai. As for the source, he naturally attributed everything to the Quincy surviving in the World of the Living.

Sōken had been released long ago. Aizen had only taken some blood, a few pounds of flesh, and collected some Reiatsu for Quincy research.

The man had been too cooperative to warrant force. Having spent considerable time with Akira, plus their heart-to-heart talk, Aizen no longer wished to be someone who would use any means to achieve his goals.

So after consideration, he had let the Quincy return.

Of course, both parties made a three-point agreement, reaching a contractual accord. Any information regarding Akira and Aizen must be kept strictly confidential.

Based on his understanding of Uryū Ishida, Akira believed that Sōken, who could raise such a grandson, couldn’t be truly evil.

Moreover, he didn’t approve of Yhwach’s world-destroying ideology. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

Perhaps in the future, Sōken could become a sharp blade for Soul Society against the Wandenreich.

“I think I understand now.” Genryūsai’s eyes narrowed as he spoke gravely, “Given that research proves Hollows are natural enemies of the Quincy — their very essence an irresistible poison — you plan to unite Hueco Mundo’s forces, waiting to catch the Wandenreich off guard when they counterattack.”

Akira nodded repeatedly, wearing a righteous expression.

The old man stared intently into his rebellious disciple’s eyes, searching for any hint of deception. After several attempts, he found only pure innocence.

At this, the white-bearded elder took a deep breath, flames igniting in his pupils.

“You rebellious disciple, are you trying to drive me to my grave?!”

His roar, accompanied by Reiatsu, exploded throughout the barracks — shock waves rising to the sky and nearly lifting off the roof.

The great disturbance naturally attracted the attention of passing division members. Yet when they sensed the source of the Reiatsu—

Oh, it’s just Captain-Commander Yamamoto and Captain Kisaragi again. That’s fine then.

The matter of the rebellious disciple Akira was no longer a secret in the Seireitei. Everyone had grown so accustomed to these typical cases of insubordination that they paid them no mind. Such incidents happened so often, there was no cause for concern.

Struck by the old man’s Reiatsu wave, the floor immediately collapsed, burying Akira underground.

“You fool, do you know how many dangers lurk in Hueco Mundo?!” Genryūsai’s anger wouldn’t subside, flames burning in his aged eyes. Having largely believed his disciple’s earlier words, he continued, “Even if I went there myself, one small mistake could lead to being trapped there, falling into an irredeemable situation!”

Akira: “?”

By irredeemable situation, did he mean burning all of Hueco Mundo to ashes and destroying all three worlds together?

Others might not know, but how could he not?

With Hueco Mundo’s current battle strength — without Aizen’s later upgrade patches — forget about this old man; even his senior disciple Shunsui could cut his way from the Forest of Menos to Las Noches without breaking a sweat.

Genryūsai ignored his delirious disciple and spoke gravely. “This matter shouldn’t be spread for now. The new Central 46 is about to be selected, and internal conflicts still exist in Soul Society. Wait until everything is settled before making plans. And remember — in future actions, protecting yourself comes first.”

After casually giving this advice, he took one final serious look at Akira.

Then, leaning on Ryūjin Jakka which had returned to its cane form, he left the 1st Division.

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Looking at Akira’s bruised and swollen face, with half his body charred black, Aizen fell silent.

He had known his companion was strong, but hadn’t expected such resilience. To take the Captain-Commander’s Ryūjin Jakka head-on and still stand there chatting energetically — his skin was truly incredibly thick.

“Sōsuke, what do you think the old man’s words really meant? I keep feeling like he was hinting at something.” Akira asked with a puzzled expression.

Aizen removed his experimental glasses from the bridge of his nose, thought for a moment, then spoke seriously.

“Akira, I’m glad you picked up on that. Actually, Captain-Commander Yamamoto’s meaning was quite simple. First, Soul Society is full of internal conflicts and contradictions. Recklessly spreading word about the Wandenreich’s threat would throw Soul Society into panic, inevitably leading to even greater chaos. Second, he’s giving tacit approval to your activities in Hueco Mundo, but warning you to proceed with caution.”

Hearing this, Akira nodded thoughtfully.

It was similar to what he had thought — as expected of his external brain, whose wisdom was already quite close to matching his own.

“By the way, with Szayelaporro’s assistance…” Aizen said while the brute was lost in thought, “The initial setup for the Hollowfication experiments is complete. Would you like to take a look?”

Given Akira’s earlier request, Aizen decided not to keep this matter hidden, though certain someone might not understand it.

The two arrived at the newly established Hollowfication laboratory.

After some practiced operations, a figure appeared inside a container — one of the members of the Ryōdoji Family from before.

When high-density liquid Reishi was injected into his arm, the large man suddenly awoke from unconsciousness, his eyes wide and bloodshot, his expression fierce.

As the Reishi was injected, his Reiatsu rose sharply, quickly reaching the edge of Rank 3 in the Spirit Class.

Aizen constantly monitored the changing data on the screen, and when all numbers reached the set threshold, he placed an object resembling a jewel on the large man’s forehead.

Gulp—

With a swallowing sound, the jewel sank in. The large man’s struggling movements suddenly stopped, as if someone had hit pause.

But in the next moment, his massive frame began twisting wildly, his head thrown back as he released beast-like roars toward the sky. His entire being seemed to have gone mad.

Large amounts of white viscous liquid gushed from his facial orifices, instantly solidifying into an ugly white bone mask that firmly locked and bound his face. His Reiatsu continued to rise during this process until it broke through the Rank 3 threshold and officially reached Captain level.

Unfortunately, the good times didn’t last.

The turbulent Reiatsu moved across his massive frame like unstable explosives, his skin beginning to swell until he appeared monster-like.

Aizen frowned slightly as he recorded and analyzed the detected data. By the time he finished, the test subject’s life had reached its end.

The subject couldn’t withstand the Hollow soul injection or accept the sudden surge in power. With an explosive boom, his entire body burst into countless particles of Reishi that scattered into the air.

“What was that jewel just now?” Akira asked curiously.

Aizen calmly explained, “It’s power extracted from Hollow souls. Through experimentation and calculation, it can help Shinigami break through their soul’s limits.”

Akira had a moment of realization.

The Hōgyoku hadn’t been created yet — this jewel was merely a prototype. But given Aizen’s efficiency and progress, the Hōgyoku’s creation couldn’t be far off.

If he remembered correctly, the Hōgyoku that Aizen would create would only be half-complete. The other half would be created by Kisuke — only together would they form a perfect Hōgyoku.

Perhaps, for his good brother’s grand plan, he should find a way to involve Kisuke as well?

Akira fell into deep thought.

Aizen ignored him and focused on organizing the data for deeper analysis.

After watching fruitlessly for a while, Akira predictably abandoned his contemplation and left the laboratory.

When he reached the Junrinan Shrine above, a black shadow appeared at his feet and crept up his ankle. He paused briefly before walking deeper into the shrine.

Shizune was away today, spreading shrine faith in other areas. She had grown passionate about this work, even requesting a promotional haori. She kept busy with various shrine duties, performing exorcisms and blessings.

Due to someone’s instructions, Mimihagi would occasionally respond to her prayers. However, Akira remained the only one who could consistently establish a connection with It.

Before the altar, his expression turned serious as he nodded occasionally in agreement.

Opposite him, a black shadow condensed into the shape of a right hand, transmitting some kind of information.

“I see, I understand.” Akira nodded, then confidently patted his chest, “You can trust me to handle this.”

Before leaving, he placed some konpeitō and Las Noches-produced black tea on the altar.

How Szayelaporro managed to grow tea in a barren place like Hueco Mundo remained a mystery, but its taste rivaled Soul Society’s finest teas.

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Sakahone District.

In an old shrine, a youth with light purple short hair stood before an empty altar. His hands were clasped together and his eyes lowered in prayer.

His clothes were worn and tattered, typical of a Rukongai resident. Though he knew such prayers would likely go unanswered, in the hopeless Rukongai, this ritual was perhaps the only comfort for his soul.

However, just as he finished and turned to leave, an ethereal voice echoed from the altar.

“Young one, did you drop a gold persimmon, or a silver persimmon? Or was it this thin-skinned, meaty, fresh and juicy plain persimmon?”

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