Chapter 203 – 203 ⥤ Words That Shock or I’ll Die Trying

It’s over.

Half an hour had passed since the portal opened, with no one emerging from it. The person must have met with misfortune.

All the Captains present wore gloomy expressions, their faces twisted with concern.

Only Kisuke struggled to suppress his twitching smile. He absolutely couldn’t laugh — or he’d surely die a miserable death.

Countless eyes stared intently at the Garganta-like passage, hoping to see a familiar figure emerge.

Despite their great confidence in Akira, these abnormal circumstances made their hearts clench with worry. As they say, excessive concern breeds confusion.

If Genryūsai hadn’t maintained his composure, several Captains close to Akira might have already rushed into the passage.

Shunsui pressed down on his straw hat, his peripheral vision discreetly studying the old man beside him.

The joints of those hands gripping the walking stick had turned white. If anyone present was most concerned about Akira, it was undoubtedly this expressionless, seemingly composed old teacher.

Shunsui let out an almost imperceptible sigh. Now they could only hope for a miracle.

After all, that place was Hell…

However, just as hope seemed to fade, an arrogant villain’s laughter echoed from the passage.

The moment he heard this voice, Kisuke’s smile instantly froze. No one knew this laugh better than him — no one!

Every time he completed a task, this laugh would appear right on schedule, as if triggered by some monitoring device. With it came the devil’s whisper, “Long time no see, Kisuke…”

“Gentlemen, I have returned victorious!” Akira emerged from the dark passage, standing in the sky with Batsu’unsai in his right hand and Furōfushi pinched in his left, flashing a wild smile, “Mere Hell is no match for me in a single exchange!”

Aizen took two quick steps, hurrying to exit the passage and distance himself from Akira, making it clear he was just an innocent bystander.

Seeing his disciple unharmed, Genryūsai relaxed slightly — until he realized the captives brought back from Hell seemed oddly familiar.

“Teacher, I brought you some local specialties!” Akira lifted the female imp beside him in demonstration; the other was too heavy to display properly.

“Bastard, who’re you calling a local specialty? I’ll kill you!” Furōfushi raged, her petite body struggling frantically in his grip, but she couldn’t break free.

While passing through the portal, Akira had already replaced the binding kidō with chains of Kūkan Mukai.

It all came down to Reiatsu suppression. With his current power level, even the old man couldn’t achieve complete immunity, let alone a mere female imp.

The familiar tone, manner of speaking, and that unmistakable Reiatsu — Genryūsai had already identified this “local specialty”.

The first captain of the 6th Division, Furōfushi Saitō.

Regarding Akira’s behavior, he didn’t know how to evaluate it anymore. Where did he learn this habit of plucking feathers from every goose that passed by?

He pilfered roasted sweet potatoes from the 1st Division, mooched benefits from Unohana in the 4th Division, and even scored a custom Shihakushō from Senjumaru at the 12th Division. He would casually drop by the 8th Division for handouts and help himself to meals at the 2nd Division cafeteria.

The guy had even tried to sample Jūshirō Ukitake’s medicine before he’d recovered.

Now he’d brought back two captives from Hell itself. Genryūsai wondered if Akira would attempt to bring home the Soul King should he ever visit the Palace.

Batsu’unsai rested on Akira’s shoulder, her cheeks burning red. Meeting an old friend in such circumstances was mortifying for someone of her disposition.

When her gaze met Unohana’s below, she found herself studied by gentle eyes she’d never seen before — eyes that appraised her with unexpected warmth.

How drastically her senior had transformed. Not a trace remained of the killer she once was.

Had marriage changed her? Her gentle demeanor suggested a virtuous wife and mother.

Batsu’unsai’s mind whirled, a cacophony of voices echoing in her thoughts.

She’d initially resisted joining this plan. But after persistent appeals to both logic and sentiment, memories of their shared battles had finally swayed her.

The outcome was painfully clear: utter failure.

Nine Captains had fallen in their group assault, leaving only two — who were now captives in Soul Society.

As the pair bickered, an enormous iron-blue hand burst from the Garganta-like passage, wrapped in black chains and radiating powerful Reiatsu.

Kushanāda!

The behemoth lunged straight for Akira.

“Little brother, behind you!” Jūshirō shouted first.

Genryūsai’s sword was already drawn, his scorching intent howling skyward as the air distorted from the heat.

But before his attack could land, Akira had flashed a fierce grin and thrown a punch — greeting the Kushanāda with a brutal fist-bump.

The creature’s iron-blue skin split open, exposing white bone and spraying red plasma in a horrific display.

The old man’s eye twitched as he quietly resheathed Ryūjin Jakka.

Everyone stood dumbfounded. Even the usually composed Shunsui vigorously rubbed his eyes, struggling to process what he’d seen.

Had the kid taken something? How had he grown so powerful?

Though they weren’t sure of the Kushanāda’s true strength, they knew Akira well — after all, they’d watched Yama-jii thrash him regularly.

Yet Shunsui’s gut told him that if he’d been on the receiving end of that punch, he wouldn’t have fared any better.

“Mere chickens and dogs.” Akira snorted disdainfully, then shouldered his spoils of war and sauntered down from the sky.

After greeting everyone, he looked at Kisuke, who stood among the crowd looking as though he were attending a funeral.

“Kisuke!”

“C-coming…”

As the right-hand man, Kisuke knew his duty well — to help his tyrannical leader reinforce the restraints on the two flower-like beauties and escort them to their quarters.

Watching the two figures fade into the distance, all the Captains shared a single thought.

This must be what they call “the airhead and the grump”…

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1st Division, meeting room.

After the Hell expedition, Genryūsai immediately convened a Captains’ Council to discuss what had transpired.

The spacious meeting room became Akira’s stage. Armed with a table, chair, fan, and ruler, he gave a performance both dramatic and immersive.

The old man maintained his stoic expression while mentally noting: This rebellious disciple was making light of the occasion. There would be a reckoning after the Council ended.

The Captains stood in formation, listening intently. Some — particularly Yoruichi, Shunsui, Kensei, and Jūshirō — even played along, offering exclamations and words of praise.

When they learned that Akira had activated his Bankai to handle the situation, Genryūsai frowned, remembering a previous conversation with his disciple.

Though Bankai hadn’t been mastered, it could still serve in dire circumstances.

And facing eleven original Captains alone certainly qualified as dire — the use of Bankai was justified.

Genryūsai unconsciously overlooked Aizen.

To him, Aizen was just a talented Seated Officer from the 12th Division who happened to be friends with Akira. Perhaps in decades he might serve as a Lieutenant or even Captain, but for now, the young man remained too weak.

“That Chika Shihōin caught me off guard, showing no martial virtue — trying to trick and ambush me, a mere hundred-year-old young man. Is that good? No, it’s not. So I taught him a lesson with fists and feet, hoping he won’t try such underhanded tricks again. One must have martial virtue…”

Akira tapped his ruler, concluding his dramatic performance.

Yoruichi showed no concern about him reducing her family elder to dust, making no attempt to seek justice on his behalf.

Genryūsai then questioned Aizen about several matters.

Faced with these questions, Aizen remained composed — neither humble nor arrogant — calmly responding while downplaying his involvement. He had no intention of exposing himself yet.

After this round of questioning, Genryūsai nodded slightly, confirming his earlier suspicions.

This matter was indeed connected to Akira. He had sensed something during the previous Konsō Reisai, but hadn’t expected Hell to remain passive while his former comrades acted.

The exact role his disciple played remained unclear. Those answers would have to wait until they interrogated the “souvenirs” brought back from Hell.

“Regarding the interrogation…” His eyelids lifted slightly as he looked at the eagerly waiting Yoruichi, “Captain Unohana and Captain Kisaragi will be responsible.”

Yoruichi: “?”

She suspected the old man was targeting her — and she had evidence.

The Onmitsukidō of the 2nd Division had always handled shadowy tasks like interrogation and assassination, with few other divisions interfering. Assigning this interrogation to a logistics division Captain seemed peculiar…

“Captain Shihōin, please don’t misunderstand. I am acquainted with those two from the past, so it will make the interrogation process smoother.” Unohana said with a gentle smile, “Please understand.”

Yoruichi sighed and could only nod in response.

When faced with such a gentle woman, she had no way to object. Unohana was truly one of the most beloved Captains in the Seireitei; her sunshine-like smile warmed the heart.

The Captains’ Council concluded.

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“There’s an old saying in Soul Society: little things can make Yama-jii’s blood pressure soar. The torture instruments at hand will surely loosen your tongues.”

In the special prison cell of the 11th Division, Akira smiled like a villain.

“If you don’t cooperate, then I’ll have to…”

In response, Furōfushi let out a cold, disdainful laugh.

“Give up, kid. Hell’s tortures are a thousand times worse than anything Soul Society has. If we can endure death itself, why would we fear mere torture instruments?”

Akira’s mouth curved into a grin.

“If you say so, then I’ll really have to go all out.” He turned his head to look at Unohana beside him and asked, “Retsu-nee, did you bring those enema tools I requested from the infirmary? I’d like to demonstrate my prowess to this little female demon!”

{T/N: (●´⌓`●)}

Hearing this, Furōfushi’s expression changed drastically, “Damn you, what are you planning to do?!”

Unohana smiled helplessly, then soothed her, “Saitō, don’t be afraid. He’s just trying to intimidate you. Could you tell us about Hell? And why did you target Akira? Is it connected to the Konsō Reisai? Don’t worry — with me here, he won’t harm you.”

Furōfushi looked at the gentle woman before her, feeling an unfamiliar presence.

“Captain Unohana, you weren’t like this before.”

Unohana smiled gently, “People change. After all, it’s been so long.”

Although that’s what was said, Furōfushi refused to believe it. Anyone could change, except this woman.

When the Gotei 13 were first established, they all considered themselves the vicious ones of Soul Society. But after becoming colleagues with Unohana and spending time together, they finally witnessed what true evil was.

Compared to her, only Shigekuni Yamamoto was vicious enough.

“Hell (Naraka) is divided into Hachinetsu Jigoku (Eight Hot Hells) and Hakkan Jigoku (Eight Cold Hells) realms, with Avīci as the bottommost layer.”

Batsu’unsai spoke somewhat timidly.

“It’s very similar to the structure of the Central Great Underground Prison. Those who fall into Hell have their souls bound to it forever, reviving even after death. Some who gain Hell’s recognition become Wardens overseeing it. I am one of them.

In different parts of Hell, one endures various tortures — mutual slaughter, iron rope strangulation, fierce fire burning. We once searched the depths of Hell for the source of all this but found nothing. Until recently, when by chance, the Gates of Hell opened.

The deceased who should have entered Hell didn’t appear, causing a temporary imbalance between the Three Worlds and Hell. Through Saizō Sakahone’s measurements, we seized a brief opportunity to leave Hell and learned why this occurred. The sacrificial object of the Konsō Reisai had changed, and the Rank 3 Reishi that should have fallen into Hell returned to Soul Society’s embrace.

The key to everything is you.”

{T/N: I will try to use this type of interconnection for very long speeches, without closing all with “”, but just leave one at the beginning and keep the text as unified as possible so you know it’s a single speech.}

Her gaze rested on Akira, her large eyes gleaming brightly.

Akira rubbed his nose, sensing this woman wasn’t up to any good. His intuition warned him that her next words might be quite outrageous.

“Lord Kisaragi, you will become the existence that replaces Hell…”

⤫⤬⤫

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