In the heart of Rukongai’s East District No.11, the central plaza was packed to the brim with people.

Today marked a moment long awaited—the entrance exam for Shin’ō Academy, an event that only took place once every six years.

Even though Tachibana Kyūjō had arrived much earlier than most, the sheer number of people gathered left him speechless. A quiet sigh slipped from his lips as he surveyed the crowd.

In all his six years living in District 11, he had never seen so many people in one place. Granted, he rarely left his house, but even so, this crowd was something else entirely.

It was proof enough of just how many people from Rukongai dreamed of becoming a Shinigami.

Using his tall, well-built frame to his advantage, Kyūjō began pushing his way toward the center of the plaza without hesitation.

Almost immediately, curses and complaints flew at him from every direction.

He chuckled inwardly. So the seemingly peaceful residents of District 11 know how to curse too, huh.

Still, he kept going, enduring the insults without batting an eye.

Eventually, he stopped around the middle of the crowd. It was far enough forward without drawing too much attention.

This should be fine. Being all the way up front would just be annoying… and it’s not really my style anyway.

Time passed. Hours ticked by before finally, two men from the Shin’ō Academy recruitment team arrived at the plaza.

— — —

Dressed in standard Shihakushō with Zanpakutō at their sides, the two Shinigami calmly walked toward the edge of the square.

One of them, a man named Otake Gen’i—eighteenth-seat officer of the 10th Division—grimaced as he took in the crowd.

Tch, why the hell is it this crowded? This is gonna take all day! The people at Shin’ō Academy are seriously treating the 10th Division like their errand boys… Every dirty, time-consuming job gets dumped on us!

But then he remembered his captain—Shiba Isshin, a man known for his cheerful and eccentric personality. And with that, Otake could only sigh in defeat.

“The 10th Division always gets bullied… If not us, then who else would do this kind of work?”

The other Shinigami, Yoshinaga Yoshiji—an ordinary member of the 10th Division—wasn’t thinking anything nearly as deep. To him, while the job was tedious and time-consuming, at least it wasn’t dangerous. They didn’t have to draw their blades or risk their lives fighting Hollow. That was good enough.

He couldn’t understand why Otake looked so sour about it.

Without wasting another second, Otake stepped forward and shouted at the crowd, “Silence! Form two lines!”

As he spoke, he released a portion of his Reiatsu, letting his spiritual pressure flow out to ensure his voice carried far and wide.

The effect was instant. The crowd quieted, then began organizing themselves into two long lines stretching far across the plaza.

Kyūjō raised an eyebrow. “These two… Their Reiatsu is really weak.”

— — —

Once the lines were properly formed, Otake finally allowed himself a faint smile, his earlier irritation easing slightly.

Sure, he was only the eighteenth-seat of the 10th Division—a nobody in the eyes of the upper ranks—but here in East District 11, he felt like a small king.

— — —

With the lines in place, the two Shinigami brought out a simple black glove—a spiritual detector developed by the 12th Division.

When worn and infused with a bit of Reiatsu, the glove would react upon contact with a soul that held the potential to become a Shinigami, glowing red in response.

If there was no reaction, it meant the person lacked the necessary spiritual aptitude.

The examination went quickly, but the glove remained dull and inactive for the longest time.

Neither Otake nor Yoshinaga were surprised. They themselves had once been in the same position—not everyone was qualified.

On average, each district only yielded five or six qualified applicants every six years.

Across all of Rukongai’s districts, that added up to roughly two thousand new students admitted into Shin’ō Academy per cycle. Another thousand came from within Seireitei itself, bringing the total to around three thousand students.

And yet, this number was still remarkably low.

After all, Shinigami were tasked with protecting Seireitei, Rukongai, and even the world of the living. Their jurisdiction was enormous.

Three thousand students every six years… That was barely five hundred per year.

And Otake was sure that far more than five hundred Shinigami died annually.

Rumor had it that Captain-Commander Yamamoto was considering changing the Academy’s schedule—maybe switching to yearly admissions instead of every six years.

Normally, after six years of training, a student would become a trainee Shinigami and could apply to join the Gotei 13.

But only those with outstanding grades and combat skill were accepted as full-fledged members.

Of course, there were always exceptions. Some geniuses, or those with special abilities, were recruited directly by a Captain or Vice-Captain—skipping the normal process altogether.

The rest became trainee Shinigami, tasked with patrols or sent to the human world to slay Hollow. If they proved themselves in the field, they could later apply again to join the Gotei 13.

— — —

Eventually, it was Kyūjō’s turn.

He stepped forward, wrote down his name, and stood in front of Otake Gen’i.

Without hesitation, Otake pressed his gloved hand against Kyūjō’s shoulder.

The glove instantly lit up red.

“Oh? A red reaction. Not bad. You’re the first one today. Come stand behind me,” Otake said, his tone slightly friendlier than before.

He wasn’t particularly surprised—just calm. As long as there were no issues, this guy would likely get accepted into Shin’ō Academy. At the very least, he could become a trainee Shinigami. That alone warranted a bit more respect.

Kyūjō simply smiled and gave a light nod before moving to stand behind Otake, watching as the two Shinigami resumed the screening process.

Looks like everything went smoothly, he thought, feeling relieved.

He had known for a while now that his spiritual body was capable of absorbing Reishi—but hearing it confirmed by an actual Shinigami gave him peace of mind.

There was no more doubt.

He really did qualify to become a Shinigami.

— — —

Day turned to night, then back to morning again. Otake and Yoshinaga worked without pause, screening every single soul in that massive crowd.

By the end of it, only six individuals—including Tachibana Kyūjō—were deemed worthy.

Without resting, Otake gathered the chosen few and led them through the East Gate of Seireitei.

Their destination: Shin’ō Academy.

— — —

Upon arriving at Shin’ō Academy, Otake led the six of them into a wide, spacious hall. Inside, more than a hundred people were already gathered—each one bearing a nervous but hopeful expression.

Turning toward the group he brought from East District 11, Otake spoke clearly.

“This is the waiting area for prospective students from the eastern districts of Rukongai. Once everyone from the region has arrived, the instructors will begin the second stage of the entrance exam.”

“This part of the exam is very important. I hope all of you can join the Gotei 13 in the future. And if you show promise, Division 10 would welcome you with open arms. Good luck to all of you—six years of hard work begins now!”

With that said, Otake Gen’i and Yoshinaga promptly left to handle the task handover process.

Tachibana Kyūjō casually looked around the room. No familiar faces. No one from his past life here either—not that he expected any.

Just then, from among the six who had arrived with him from East District 11, a middle-aged man with a calm, steady expression spoke up.

“Everyone, my name’s Takeda Kōryō. Since we’re all from the same district and happened to join the academy at the same time, I figured it’d be good for us to watch each other’s backs.”

“At least until we get settled in. I’ve heard the students from the deeper districts can be… wild. Violent, even. Sure, no one’s allowed to kill anyone here, but the stories about bullying aren’t just rumors.”

Hearing that, a skinny, shy-looking young man nodded nervously.

“Y-Yeah! My big brother said the same thing! He told me the ones from District 70 and above are like total lunatics. Once they’re in the academy, it’s like they rule the place.”

“Oh, I’m Tsuda Yūji, by the way. My brother’s also a Shinigami, even though he didn’t make it into the Gotei 13…”

“Huh? Then why didn’t you enter the academy at the same time as him?” one of the others asked, curious.

Tsuda gave an awkward chuckle and scratched his cheek.

“Uhm… I’m not very good at fighting. But my brother said if I graduate with good grades, I can try applying to the 4th Division—the medical and relief corps. He said it’s not too dangerous there.”

Hearing that, Tachibana Kyūjō’s eyes lit up ever so slightly.

A solid choice… The 4th Division was definitely a smart path.

More importantly, if he could learn Kaidō—the healing art used by Shinigami—maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to heal the spiritual wounds he’d carried all this time.

And if he could do that, maybe his recovery would be faster…

Still, one thing was certain—Kyūjō had never planned to let anyone else try to treat his soul.

It was far too dangerous.

Most wouldn’t even be able to comprehend it… let alone survive the attempt.

I wonder… could someone like Unohana Retsu possibly manage it? he mused inwardly.

Kyūjō knew better than anyone that his soul was far from ordinary. And right now, his power was nowhere near stable. If he caught the wrong kind of attention, he might very well become a test subject for experimentation.

That was a risk he wasn’t willing to take.

— — —

Throughout the conversation, Kyūjō had remained silent. Calm. Observing.

But once the others had finished their introductions and all eyes turned to him, he finally spoke in a cool, composed tone.

“My name is Tachibana Kyūjō. Now that we’re all officially students of this academy, if any of you are ever threatened or bullied—come find me. I’m more than capable when it comes to fighting.”

“As long as you’re not the one doing the bullying, I’ll make sure that not a single one of us—no one from East District 11—gets stepped on during our time here.”

His voice rang clear and firm. It wasn’t boastful, but it carried undeniable weight. An aura of calm authority radiated from him as he spoke.

There was no point in hiding his strength. And frankly, if he’d wanted to act humble, it was already too late for that.

If memory served him right, the second phase of the entrance exam was a Reiatsu measurement.

And Tachibana Kyūjō understood Reiatsu well.

In this world, Reiatsu—spiritual pressure—was the innate energy possessed by every spiritual being. It was, in many ways, comparable to chakra in the world of Naruto.

It reflected the density of the soul.

The denser the spirit, the greater the power it could unleash.

Those with high Reiatsu had greater access to Reiryoku, or spiritual power—the fundamental energy that made up a soul. Everyone had it, in varying amounts. And Reiatsu was what spilled out when that energy overflowed.

Kyūjō had come to this conclusion on his own, after years of observation and trial during his time in Rukongai.

In the world of Bleach, it was said that a single Captain’s Reiatsu could bring ordinary Shinigami to their knees without even raising a blade.

And Tachibana Kyūjō… in his former life, he had stood at the level of a god.

Now, even if he only retained a fraction—perhaps one percent—of his former power, that still made him vastly stronger than a typical soul.

He didn’t know exactly how high his Reiatsu was at the moment… but when he compared it to those two officers from the 10th Division earlier, it became clear:

His spiritual pressure had already reached the level of a high-ranking seat officer.

Maybe even Vice-Captain class.

— — —

Still, despite the conviction in his words, the five other students from East District 11 simply exchanged awkward glances… and slowly stepped away from him.

A few meters away, they huddled together and began whispering amongst themselves.

“He’s crazy… Who does he think he is? Some noble from Seireitei?”

“Seriously. We’re all from Rukongai, just like him…”

“I mean, he was quiet before, but now he’s acting all high and mighty. We should stay away. If he ends up angering a noble, we might get caught in the fallout too…”

— — —

Kyūjō heard them.

He didn’t even try to pretend he didn’t.

But all he did was shrug.

No big deal.

He had meant well. They were from the same district, and he’d thought he could offer them a bit of protection, just in case.

But if they didn’t know who he was—if they couldn’t see what he was offering—then there was no point forcing anything.

At that exact moment, the door to the hall opened.

A young man in a formal black robe stepped inside, holding a thick stack of documents in his arms.

The second exam was about to begin.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

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