Meanwhile, after days of intense investigation, Makoto, draped in his pristine white haori, crossed the threshold of the Twelfth Division's Research Institute, striding purposefully inside.
Along the way, Shinigami in white lab coats bowed respectfully.
"Makoto-sama."
"Captain Makoto."
"Hm."
Despite the occasional greetings, Makoto maintained a stern expression, nodding curtly as he headed straight for the rear courtyard.
His demeanor was one of rational, serious authority.
Researchers familiar with him, sensing his mood, didn't dare engage as they usually might, watching him march toward the innermost section.
Those with sharper intel whispered among themselves.
"Makoto-sama must've found a lead, right?"
"That incident was catastrophic. It needs to be resolved quickly."
"If it's Makoto-sama, there's no doubt he'll handle it."
"Yeah, it's Makoto-sama!"
Many murmured behind him, voices hushed.
Only a few veteran seated officers, overhearing the chatter, cast skeptical glances his way.
Times had changed.
Three hundred years had passed, and after countless rounds of Gotei 13 propaganda, no one dared call Makoto a "perverted old creep" as they once did.
At most, a few drunks at banquets might share "amusing anecdotes" or "secret tales" about him with younger Shinigami.
But those were mostly dismissed as urban legends.
Only a handful, like Sosumi, who'd mingled with the "old guard," steered clear of him like he was a tiger.
Unknowingly, even Makoto had started putting on a serious face before his subordinates.
Being a paragon of virtue felt good!
Basking in the respectful gazes, he entered the core research lab deep in the rear courtyard, slipping effortlessly into the room marked "Director's Office."
Bang!
He shut the door.
Hearing the sound, Senjumaru, clad in a white lab coat and working at her lab bench, paused her experiment, frowning as she turned. "I've said before, during experiments-"
Then she saw Makoto standing gravely at the door.
"?"
Senjumaru glanced left and right, noting the empty room and lack of an escort, and asked, "How'd you get in?"
In the next moment, the stern-faced Makoto executed a tiger-like pounce, clinging to Senjumaru's leg and raising his voice:
"Help me!"
"Senjumaru-sama!!"
Caught off-guard, Senjumaru reacted swiftly, her six bone arms shooting out to block his face from burrowing into her kimono collar. But they couldn't stop his arms, and she nearly stumbled.
Seeing his shameless display, Senjumaru's face radiated exasperation. His strength was absurd, even her six bone arms couldn't hold him back.
She'd need to add more.
Sighing inwardly, she muttered, "So, what's gone wrong this time?"
"I can't find it! Nothing at all!"
Makoto, sprawled dramatically, vented: "Ryoma's team has practically turned Seireitei upside down. Aside from some residual Hollow energy, we've got no leads!"
"Even the spatial traces match the wavelengths of a Menos crossing the Dangai, completely inconsistent with what we witnessed."
"If we don't find that guy soon, Jūshirō's gonna work himself to death!"
Hearing his brazen complaints, Senjumaru couldn't help but pity Kuruyashiki and Jūshirō.
You've been talking this whole time, but they're the ones doing all the work?
But on hearing the issue, Senjumaru gave a faint, composed smile. Tossing Makoto aside, she glided on her wheeled platform to the other side, her tone laced with casual venom:
"As unreliable as ever, eh, Makoto-kun?"
"If I were your subordinate, I'd rather tie that mutt begging at Rukon District's Cross Street to the captain's desk."
Makoto's face fell.
Before he could retort, Senjumaru's tone shifted:
"However."
"For this case, I've already found a small breakthrough."
As always, Senjumaru was calm and unruffled, as if his vexing problem was trivial to her.
Makoto blinked, his face breaking into a warm, heartfelt smile:
"So, Senjumaru's been working on a solution for me already?"
"That's fantastic."
"…"
"Senjumaru?"
But as he spoke, the smugly smirking Senjumaru, chin raised, had turned away, intently studying the misty corrosion marks on her desk, ignoring him entirely.
"Anyway!"
After his third prompt, Senjumaru finally drawled, cutting to the chase: "Hand over the residual Hollow energy you collected!"
"Y-Yes, ma'am."
At her command, Makoto pulled three test tubes from his sleeve.
Peering through the glass, one could see wisps of condensed black mist inside.
Senjumaru maintained her usual cool demeanor. A bone arm retrieved the tubes while others moved at near-blurring speed, arranging a complex Kidō array on the desk.
Once complete, she clasped her bone hands, index fingers crossing over middle and ring fingers, pinkies hooked outward in an intricate gesture.
"Activate."
With a low command, the array ignited, forming a continuous ring of light.
A bone arm tilted a tube, pouring the Hollow energy into the array's center.
Instantly, the cloud-like black energy, guided by an invisible force, formed delicate threads in the air, weaving like wind-blown sand art.
Finally, countless light points coalesced into a clear, three-dimensional image.
Makoto's pupils contracted.
It depicted a figure confined in a cage, half its gentle face masked, with a voluptuous chest, crab-like bone claws extending from its back, and a thick, upright tendril protruding forward…
A Hollow?
The moment the image appeared, a foreboding chill gripped Makoto.
As expected.
A gleeful, eager, impulsive squeal erupted beside them:
[It's… it's a big-boobs lass!!]
[I'm in!]
Makoto and Senjumaru froze.
"…"
Senjumaru's narrow eyes fixed on him, brimming with subtle disdain.
But, well, it was Makoto.
So, par for the course.
The silence stretched, both choosing to pretend nothing happened.
Then, as if struck by a thought, Makoto turned to Senjumaru and asked:
"Could it be from the 'Hollow Squad'…?"
"No."
Senjumaru shook her head calmly. "Kirio already checked the Hollow Squad's records. No matching members."
"Nor any Shinigami with similar features."
"Unfortunately."
"…"
Makoto fell silent.
Given the clues from the incident, be it him or his Shinigami subordinates, they were certain the perpetrator was a Shinigami wielding Hollow powers.
But the image before them now shattered that theory.
Moreover, even for the Gotei 13, tracking a distinct, powerful Menos across the vast three worlds was like searching for a needle in a haystack.
As for the Hollow they'd witnessed, it was likely just one facet of its abilities.
Senjumaru spoke, pulling out a photo. "Additionally, the identity of the deceased within that Hollow has been confirmed."
"Former Tenth Division Twelfth Seat, Kirito Kayaba, now retired."
"One of the escapees rescued from the Nest of Maggots"
At this, Makoto froze again.
Senjumaru continued matter-of-factly:
"Autopsy suggests he briefly elevated his strength to near Tier-3Reiatsu."
"But only for a short time."
"A few minutes burned through parts of his soul, leaving the body we saw."
"…"
After a few seconds of silence, Makoto gave a wry smile. "Looks like those rescued folks are in deep trouble now."
"What about the 'accomplice'?"
He meant the "Shinigami" who displayed extraordinary spatial abilities that night.
Senjumaru's lips curved faintly. "I haven't forgotten."
She extended a bone arm, pointing to a real-time map on the wall.
Makoto followed her gesture, seeing a map marked with multiple spatial rifts, even distinguishing fluctuations caused by different Hollows, a testament to meticulous investigation.
"From their movement range, Target A and Target B handled the main assault and peripheral harassment, respectively."
"Their group likely numbers ten or fewer, possibly five."
"All actions were planned, premeditated, multi-front disruptions."
"Even their 'mass feeding' sites were chosen to disrupt patterns, minimizing Seireitei's attention."
Senjumaru's bone arm traced the numbers, pointing to Rukongai zones marked as "mass civilian death zones within the past five years."
Districts 71, 65, 49, 31, 25…
And now.
The casualty counts grew more staggering each time.
From 200 in North District 71 to over 6,000 across West District 5, Seireitei, and the Shin'ō Academy.
Clearly, their demand for soul quality and quantity was escalating.
"Notice anything?"
Senjumaru looked at him calmly. "Such rapid, wide-ranging movement typically relies on 'concealment' or 'spatial travel.'"
"But as 'its' power grows, small-scale feeding won't satisfy it anymore, will it?"
"…"
Makoto began to grasp it.
"So."
He frowned. "It'll definitely strike Seireitei again?"
"Possibly Seireitei, Hueco Mundo, or the Living World."
Senjumaru said evenly, "It clearly needs vast numbers of souls, regardless of type."
"To prevent this, I've had Kirio deploy spatial monitoring devices across districts."
Her voice rose with a smug lilt. "If it dares feed on a large scale again, we'll catch it!"
Makoto exhaled deeply, grinning with relief:
"Without you, Senjumaru, I'd be lost."
"Thanks a ton."
Senjumaru's three pairs of bone arms retracted, her crescent-like eyes flicking over him with her usual disdain:
"Having my work interrupted by unreasonable demands is one of my least favorite things."
"Even without prior investigation, you'd probably come barging in like a boar poked in the jewels, begging for help, wouldn't you?"
"That's what'd really give me a headache."
"Please, Makoto-kun, have some self-awareness."
Makoto brushed off her routine venom.
Who could resist a woman who, despite "no choice," preemptively solves your problems flawlessly?
He pondered, then put on a mock-serious face:
"Next time I'm stumped, I'll definitely try barging in like that!"
"Hmph!"
Senjumaru scoffed, her eyes betraying no real anger, and shooed him. "If there's nothing else, Captain Makoto, get out!"
"My research isn't done!"
"Yes, yes!"
With the clues confirmed, the task force's work boiled down to organizing personnel and monitoring spatial fluctuations.
For secrecy, Senjumaru's findings were limited to the monitoring team.
But, as she predicted, the 'enemy's' hunger for reishi was insatiable.
Just half a month later, Makoto received an urgent alert from the Twelfth Division:
Living World Zone Z16, reports of mass Shinigami casualties and high-frequency spatial fluctuations.
…
Within five minutes, the task force's elite unit assembled before a massive Garganta.
Beyond the 100 Shinigami of the elite mobile squad, four captains joined: Saitō, Kinroku, Ginrei, and Makoto himself.
Makoto gazed at the disciplined ranks, his expression impassive.
Kinroku, among them, felt a wave of nostalgia.
Those close to Yamamoto and Sasakibe could see why the old man had been dodging captains' meetings lately.
Makoto's laziness forced even Yamamoto's cunning to resort to such measures, thrusting responsibility onto him.
It also served to root out internal rot and test Makoto, the heir.
Knowing Yamamoto so well, Kinroku saw through his motives clearly.
Clearly.
Despite his reluctant demeanor, Makoto had shouldered the burden.
Watching him at the forefront, Kinroku's weathered face softened into a warm smile.
As he'd thought.
At that moment, Yamamoto stood atop a tower beside the Garganta, overlooking the elite team bound for the Living World.
Sasakibe, as ever, served respectfully at his side.
His gaze on Makoto held a trace of satisfaction.
Yamamoto nodded inwardly.
He hoped Makoto wouldn't squander the team he'd handpicked.
Only the 100 elite Shinigami below remained unaware of their target.
Makoto stepped before them, waving a surge of Reiatsu.
A 3D projection appeared before the squad.
It was the same "big-boobs lass" Senjumaru had shown him.
"Based on multiple divisions' investigations, our target is a Menos allied with Seireitei traitors."
Makoto's stern gaze swept the squad, his voice cold: "However, we still can't confirm its strength."
"It could be an Adjuchas… or a Vasto Lorde."
At the mention of that name, everyone's alertness spiked.
Even seasoned captains couldn't ignore that rank's threat.
"Thus, I expect maximum flexibility to complete this search and containment mission."
"Hold out until the four captains arrive."
Learning of such a "passive" objective, the squad grasped the mission's immense danger.
Yet none faltered.
Hum,
As his words fell, the massive Garganta behind Makoto opened.
A black abyss unfurled before them.
Under their gazes, Makoto raised his hand toward the gate, facing them with utmost solemnity.
But before he could issue the final order, a lively, impulsive, almost giddy voice burst from his waist.
It surged abruptly, flooding every ear present.
[Charge!]
[Take down the big-boobs lass!!]
The plaza fell deathly silent.
Makoto's mouth hung open, rooted to the spot.
The squad blinked, staring at the man upfront.
The serious, upright Makoto-sama.
What did he just say?
"…"
After a long silence, some sharp-witted soul had an epiphany, echoing the Zanpakutō's cry:
"T-Take… down the big-boobs lass!"
At first, it was just one timid voice.
But with that spark, the squad caught on, reluctantly mimicking Makoto's raised hand, shouting sporadically:
"Take down the big-boobs lass!"
True to their elite status, within seconds, the hundred voices united, shaking the heavens:
"TAKE DOWN THE BIG-BOOBS LASS!!!"
The roar echoed like a bell, resounding for miles.
Makoto stood solemnly, arm still raised, his entire being seemingly petrified.
…
Yamamoto stood atop the tower, gazing down at Makoto leading the group.
His aged face was lined with exasperation.
"As expected."
"Maybe I should rethink this?"
***
Bonus Chapter:
100 Power Stones = 1 BC
300 Power Stones = 2 BC
500 Power Stones = 3 BC
700 Power Stones = 4 BC
1000 Power Stones = 5 BC
***
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