Chapter 209 – 209 ⥤ An Angler Never Returns Empty-Handed!

“Kisuke, you know, in principle I could beat Yama-jii.”

In the 11th Division’s research lab, Akira sat on a special sofa, his face bruised and swollen like a demon’s as he stubbornly explained.

“But the problem is, right now the principles are in the old man’s hands. Just wait — I’ll make that old man pay dearly!”

Kisuke cast a meaningful glance at him and casually remarked, “Actually, Captain, you could just stab yourself and let Captain-Commander Yamamoto taste the pain of losing a disciple. From what I know, if you died, he wouldn’t be able to eat for at least three hours.”

Akira: “?”

Soon after, terrible screams of agony echoed through the 11th Division.

The cries were truly heartbreaking, bringing tears to listeners’ eyes. Passing division members even stopped to listen, wondering if some villain had appeared so they could help enforce the Captain’s justice.

“It’s the Lieutenant!”

“Oh, it’s Lieutenant Urahara? Never mind then.”

“Let’s go. I need to buy the latest photo collection — I heard Captain Ukitake is featured.”

“Count me in!”

As everyone knew, subordinates challenging their superiors was a long-standing tradition in the 11th Division, so the Captain disciplining his presumptuous Lieutenant was perfectly normal.

After a thoroughly satisfying beating, Akira felt refreshed. No wonder Genryūsai had looked so satisfied after beating him up — it turns out thrashing youngsters is quite pleasant.

While he couldn’t beat that old man, dealing with Kisuke was child’s play.

“Hey, playing dead is too much.” Akira kicked his insubordinate employee who lay motionless on the ground, “Hurry up and use your invincible Benihime to heal yourself, then get back to work for your Captain. Give me your last rays of light!”

Kisuke: “…”

If his Captain would just say one decent thing, he wouldn’t be acting so lazy. He was the one who got beaten up, and after the beating, this guy wouldn’t even pay for medicine — instead making him use his Zanpakutō to heal himself.

Could anything be more outrageous than this?

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The answer is yes.

After joint research by Kisuke, Aizen, and Mayuri, they greatly shortened the development time and completed a simple passage to Hell that could accommodate one person at a time.

Taking losses lying down wasn’t Akira’s style. Since Hell had seized his souvenirs right in front of him, he would go and poach from Hell itself, starting with those Class 3 spiritual beings among the dead.

“Captain, we could actually wait a bit longer.” Kisuke hesitated, “The Hell passage’s stability still needs work. There might be Reiatsu fluctuations during a round trip.”

Though constantly oppressed by his Captain, when it came to serious matters, Kisuke wouldn’t deliberately sabotage him.

“No matter, mere Hell doesn’t concern me.” Akira waved his hand, “Watch me cut it down with one sword strike.”

With that, he plunged into the passage without looking back.

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Similar to a Garganta, after walking for some distance, Akira arrived in Hell once again.

The scene differed from his previous visit. Using what was essentially a smuggling route, he could only appear in Hell’s First Level.

It matched his impression of Hell — massive white buildings joined together like a Rubik’s cube, with countless denizens moving through the gaps between structures, avoiding the patrolling Kushanāda.

These Kushanāda would occasionally lash out with chains, slaying any dead souls they spotted, grinding their bodies to paste and dispersing their gathered Reishi.

Akira wasted no time. He swung out his released Kūkan Mukai, snatching dead souls from the gaps like an angler fishing — cast out the chain, always catch something, never return empty-handed.

His presence was soon discovered by the Kushanāda. Several mountain-sized monstrosities launched their attack, distorting the surrounding space as violent Reiatsu crashed against his body in waves.

Akira grinned and, without hesitation, turned and left Hell with the dead souls in tow. He had selected only those with Rank 3 Spirit Class, avoiding the truly deserving sinners.

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Shortly after, when Akira reappeared in the laboratory, Kisuke finally breathed a sigh of relief.

As long as he was safe — but what else had he brought? His breath caught as he saw the figures wrapped in chains.

“Souls that fell into Hell?”

“Exactly right.”

“What did you bring these back for?”

“Obviously, to send them into Soul Society’s cycle of reincarnation.” Akira glanced at Kisuke as if he were an idiot.

Such an obvious question — had he damaged this guy’s brain?

Kisuke was dumbfounded. He’d thought his Captain had gone to cause trouble in Hell, but instead he had targeted their human resources.

Isn’t this a bit…

Before he could speak, the power of Mimihagi appeared in the laboratory. In a series of dazzling operations, Akira dispersed the dead souls’ Reishi before they could understand what was happening, returning them to Soul Society’s embrace.

Swift action was key — catching them off guard. From his previous experience, Akira worried Hell would react and directly seize the dead souls. To prevent similar incidents, he simply dispersed the souls in advance.

Such audacious behavior made Kisuke’s eye twitch.

But thinking it through, he couldn’t criticize his Captain from any moral high ground. Strictly speaking, what Akira did was helping save the future of the Three Worlds.

“Successfully sent into reincarnation.” Akira nodded with satisfaction. Though this couldn’t cause substantial damage to Hell, it could at least irritate them.

Courtesy demands reciprocity — how could he just take a loss without responding?

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For several years after, Soul Society enjoyed a period of peace as Akira settled into his routine.

His days consisted of training bouts with Yama-jii, occasional raids into Hell to fish with Kūkan Mukai, and guiding the 11th Division members to accelerate their growth.

An interesting development caught Akira’s attention — the division’s training atmosphere had led to remarkable progress not only for Kaname and Sajin but even the lower-ranking members.

After careful observation, he understood why. Shinigami, being immortal beings, approached diligence differently than humans. While humans in competition might study for sixteen or eighteen hours daily, Shinigami typically struggled with just three to four hours of training beyond their regular duties.

This explained their transformation between the Fake Karakura Town battle against Aizen and the Arrancars, and their later performance in the Blood War. Though the conflicts weren’t far apart, the Shinigami’s power had multiplied significantly.

Now, the 11th Division members had become dedicated overachievers. When not eating, sleeping, or completing missions, they were either sparring or training with an intensity that amazed others.

Sajin Komamura showed the most promise.

“Captain, Lord Kisaragi!” The large dog approached Akira, his face split with an uncontrollable grin, “I’ve done it!”

“Done what?” Akira asked, clearly puzzled.

Had Sajin spent too much time with Zaraki? This warrior’s eagerness was unsettling.

“Please follow me.”

The man and dog headed toward the 11th Division’s back mountain.

Kisuke, curiosity piqued, followed behind. Noticing the commotion, Mayuri frowned, considered briefly, then left his laboratory.

At the desolate back mountain, Sajin gripped his Zanpakutō with both hands, unleashing unprecedented Reiatsu. Crimson light pierced the sky as dust swirled upward. Terrifying pressure spread through the area, making the ground tremble.

As the energy peaked, his eyes widened fiercely, and his massive mouth opened to release an earth-shaking roar.

⤫ Bankai: Kokujō Tengen Myō’ō ⥤ Final Release: Vidyaraja of Kalasutra’s Heavenly Punishment! ⤬

Kisuke’s eyes widened in astonishment. He had imagined many possibilities — a new technique, increased Reiatsu — but mastering Bankai hadn’t crossed his mind.

Mayuri was equally surprised. Having achieved his own Bankai through spirit body modification, he clearly saw the difference in achievement compared to the wolfman.

The red light intensified, and the ground beneath Sajin’s feet groaned and cracked under the mounting pressure.

Whoosh—

The air trembled as the red light transformed into a massive figure beside the back mountain, towering above the peak.

A hundred-meter-tall black armored warrior materialized, wearing a red face cloth and gleaming with golden pupils that radiated violent power. Heavy armor encased its frame, black ropes bound at its back, while its right hand clutched a colossal blade spanning tens of meters.

Its mere presence exuded such fierce, overwhelming pressure that breathing became difficult.

“Captain, care to test my Bankai?” Sajin stood beneath the armored colossus, flashing what he thought was a friendly smile.

The influence of Akira and Zaraki had transformed the wolfman into a more aggressive, battle-hungry warrior than before.

Having finally achieved Bankai, Sajin couldn’t let it go untested. After consideration, he realized only his Captain could withstand such an attack unscathed.

Hearing this, Akira grinned, “Give it your all!”

Better to comply than to be respectful.

Sajin’s smile turned fierce as his fighting spirit surged. Gripping his Zanpakutō with both hands, he gathered his Reiatsu and struck with full force.

The black armored warrior moved in perfect sync, stepping forward with earth-shattering force. A visible shockwave erupted, sending dust flying and splitting the nearby mountain peak with deep fissures.

Howling winds accompanied the giant blade as it cleaved through space, descending toward Yuemei like a heaven-sent meteor.

“I bet Komamura can take two hits.”

“One hit at most, and his Bankai will shatter.”

The two observers took shelter behind a Kidō barrier, wagering meals for a year on the outcome.

Seeing Mayuri bet on two hits, Kisuke responded with a cold laugh.

Too naive. How could any mere Bankai match Akira’s overwhelming might? From Kisuke’s recent beatings, he knew their Captain had grown even stronger.

Victory seemed assured, yet tears welled in Kisuke’s eyes.

The pain was simply too much.

Wiping away his tears, he focused on the imminent clash.

Akira drew his sword. Brilliant light pierced the sky as the small figure collided with the giant being — a firefly challenging the bright moon.

At the moment of impact, that firefly erupted into blinding radiance like a rising sun. Waves of searing heat burst forth as the earth split apart. Countless trees were torn from their roots and shredded in the raging storm, creating an awe-inspiring display.

Thunder shook the barracks.

In that deafening moment, Sajin felt the impact of a meteor strike. Cracks spiderwebbed across the giant blade in his warrior’s hands.

His expression shifted to horror.

The devastating force transmitted through his black armored warrior straight into his body. As the armor crumbled, the remaining impact tore through his internal organs.

Blood spilled from his mouth, staining his Shihakushō crimson. His massive body creaked under the strain, and as the giant blade shattered into fragments, Sajin collapsed to his knees.

He crashed to the ground.

“I lost.” Mayuri conceded readily, but frowned, “Though, how did you know the Captain’s strength so precisely?”

Kisuke’s mouth twitched, “Don’t ask — it’s all experience.”

Speaking more would only bring tears.

In his rebellious battles with Akira, even Kisuke’s own Bankai had earned him nothing but thorough defeats. How could Sajin, who had just achieved Bankai, withstand even a single strike from this monster?

This outcome was inevitable.

Akira scooped up the unconscious, injured wolf, patted his wonderfully fluffy head, and sighed, “Still need more training, Dog-chan.”

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Word of Sajin Komamura mastering Bankai spread like wildfire through the 11th Division.

When everyone rushed to confirm the news with him, they erupted in wails, decrying Sajin as an inhuman overachiever.

Yet it ignited their competitive spirits — if the big dog could do it, why couldn’t they?

Another wave of intense training swept through the 11th Division. Some even sought out Zaraki, attempting to strengthen themselves through death matches.

Predictably, the outcomes were miserable.

Amid this flourishing development, Aizen, from his seat in Las Noches, delivered some significant news.

“The Arrancar technology has been perfected. The first phase of the Arrancar plan is ready to begin…”

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