Rukongai, North District 80.
"Bro, it's time we headed out."
"If we don't leave now, we'll miss the Shino Spiritual Arts Academy entrance exams."
"And then it's another year wasted."
Inside a modest, run-down house, Aizen adjusted the brown-rimmed glasses on his nose and turned to glance at a black-haired young man nearby—one who bore more than a passing resemblance to him.
—Because you enrolled in Shino Academy, your spiritual pressure grew anxious about failing the test and pushed itself hard.
—Result: You've broken through the sixth-carriage bottleneck and reached the seventh level.
The soft system chime echoed in Lan Yan's ears, and his eyes glinted with amusement.
Seven carriages of spiritual pressure, huh?
For a new applicant to the Spiritual Arts Academy, that was more than enough.
Especially when the so-called King of Flex beside him—Aizen himself—currently only had the spiritual pressure of a standard squad captain.
Yes, only.
Because Lan Yan wasn't some ordinary soul born into the world of Bleach.
He was a transmigrator.
And like all good transmigrators, he came with a cheat—his "Bleach System."
All he had to do was acquire a skill. After that, the system would train it on its own, hands-free, like an idle game. No input is needed. No manual effort is required.
Take spiritual pressure, for example.
That was the first ability he'd awakened after arriving here.
And once the system kicked in, it was as if his spiritual pressure gained a will of its own. It trained day and night with reckless abandon. In less than half a month, it had caught up to Aizen, whose spiritual pressure was known across Soul Society as peerless.
Today, it finally surpassed him.
And the most ironic part?
That Aizen… was his younger brother.
Two months ago, the two of them arrived together at Soul Society. They hadn't even enrolled in the Academy yet. No training. No techniques. Just raw spiritual pressure—yet even that had risen to a level equal to captain-class Soul Reapers.
Measured in Soul Society's unique unit of "carriages," that meant six full carriages of spiritual power.
But now?
Lan Yan's spiritual pressure had gone one step further—seven carriages—one more than Aizen's.
"Let's go."
He picked up his black-rimmed glasses from the table and stood up, following Aizen out the door.
The moment they stepped outside, a hundred souls—men and women—fell to their knees in unison.
"Lord Lan Yan!"
"Lord Aizen!"
North District 80 of Rukongai.
A place notorious for its chaos and violence. Its name alone could be spoken in the same breath as Zaraki District.
And yet, every soul kneeling before them was a local powerhouse—elites among elites.
Some of them already had spiritual pressure equivalent to one or two carriages. If they ever learned the combat arts of the Academy—Zanjutsu, Hakuda, Hohō, and Kidō—they'd be shoo-ins for seated officer positions in the Gotei 13.
They'd only remained in District 80 out of deference to the unspoken rules of Soul Society.
Now, they all served under Lan Yan and Aizen.
"Move out!" Lan Yan commanded, his tone absolute.
"Yes, sir!"
With that, the crowd dispersed like mist.
Aizen chuckled, the corner of his mouth lifting with the breeze.
"Brother, why keep these ants around?"
"They're just wasting spirit particles."
Lan Yan answered without looking back.
"Even toilet paper and underwear serve a purpose."
"Spirits do too."
"Don't throw them away lightly."
He paused, then added:
"You've noticed it too, haven't you?"
"Our growth rate's slowing."
"We've crossed a certain threshold. Though it still increases, our spiritual pressure doesn't rise as quickly anymore."
"It's like a species nearing its evolutionary peak. Each improvement takes more effort."
He turned to Aizen, eyes gleaming with meaning.
Aizen's smile didn't fade, but behind his glasses, a faint glint flickered in his gaze. His hand, which had been gripping the wooden railing beside the path, slowly relaxed.
Of course, he understood.
Lan Yan was hinting at the perfect solution: the hundreds of powerful souls they'd just dismissed.
Ready-made research subjects.
"Glad we're on the same page," Lan Yan said casually.
Naturally, he'd noticed Aizen's reaction.
But he wasn't concerned. In the two months since he arrived in District 80, he'd already adapted to this brutal world.
Aizen might be his younger brother, but he was also a king in the making—ambitious, ruthless, unwilling to stay ordinary.
Lan Yan was the same.
They both planned to enroll in Shino Academy and leave the "raw materials" of District 80 behind—right on schedule.
As they made their way through the outskirts, they encountered no bandits or muggers.
Anyone who got close was instantly crushed by the casual, unrestrained waves of spiritual pressure Aizen leaked as he walked.
Shino Spiritual Arts Academy.
It was enrollment day.
The vast exam plaza could hold thousands of people, but it was already packed with aspiring applicants.
"Shihouin Yoruichi."
"Spiritual Pressure: Vice-Captain level."
"Rating: S."
The examiner's voice rang out, sending murmurs rippling through the crowd.
"Yoruichi? Even she's joining in?"
"Isn't she the heir to the Shihouin Clan? Why bother with the Academy?"
A disheveled Urahara Kisuke strolled over and teased the bronze-skinned girl standing nearby.
"Giving old man Yamamoto some face," she replied coolly.
"Besides—didn't you see?"
"Even Byakuya is waiting in line."
Yoruichi shrugged, clearly unimpressed.
Kisuke followed her gaze—and sure enough, there he was.
The noble prince of the Kuchiki clan: Byakuya.
A pure-blood aristocrat radiating haughty elegance.
Kisuke instantly understood what was going on.
The four great noble families were showing Yamamoto Genryūsai a little courtesy.
After all, with even the young heirs of the great clans enrolling, the Academy's prestige would only rise—even if it didn't need the help.
And Yamamoto wouldn't ignore that gesture.
At the very least, once these heirs graduated, so long as they didn't commit some grave mistake, they were guaranteed a clear path to captaincy.
"Byakuya-sama, please place your hand on the Spirit Orb and inject your spiritual pressure," an examiner prompted.
Byakuya ignored the stares around him and calmly obeyed.
The crystal orb began to glow, cycling through a spectrum of colors—purple, blue, green, yellow—
Then, I settled on orange.
"Kuchiki Byakuya."
"Spiritual Pressure: Vice-Captain level."
"Rating: SS."
The surrounding applicants gasped in awe.
Another prodigy.
"Another vice-captain level!"
"First Yoruichi, now Byakuya…"
"The noble clans really are in a league of their own."
Byakuya remained expressionless, though he couldn't help glancing at Yoruichi with a trace of smugness in his eyes—as if to say, your turn.
But then…
Another examiner called out a name that dropped like a thunderclap.
"Aizen Sōsuke."
"Spiritual Pressure: Captain level."
"Rating: SSS."
The plaza fell silent.
Dead silent