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Ichimaru Gin felt a faint tremor through the tip of his blade. "Ah… it's blocked." His surprise lasted only a moment before composure returned. The strike had been sudden, but he had never expected an opponent like this to be so easily cut down. A blocked attack was no real shock.
He drew his blade back slowly, a hint of regret playing on his lips. "Ah, Tōsen… if it's like this, I can't even take a proper shot. That guy's reiatsu is completely hidden, and with that barrier up I can't see him at all. No target means no aim."
Gin turned to Aizen, hands spread in mock helplessness.
Aizen smiled faintly. "Silver, can you handle Tōsen?"
Gin tilted his head, a question in his eyes. Aizen's smile lingered as he pulled on a pair of gloves and began the ritual. From the ground, several massive horn-like pillars erupted, encircling Aizen and Rukia Kuchiki at the center.
"That man's ability is strange," Aizen said, hands moving with deliberate precision. "But I have exactly what's needed to restrain him. Tōsen's Bankai robs his enemies of hearing, sight, smell, and the ability to sense reiatsu. Only touch remains, just enough to feel the pain of his strikes. Blind, deaf, unable to sense—inside his barrier they're no better than headless chickens, slaughtered at his leisure."
He reached toward Rukia's chest, her eyes vacant and body slack. "Even with the best reflexes and speed, how can you react to an attack you cannot detect?" His voice was calm, almost amused.
"It's insane… an ability like that…" Ishida Uryū murmured, shock threading through every syllable. If it were him inside that darkness, he doubted he could fight back at all.
In the next instant his pupils narrowed. Gasps erupted around him. Orihime's voice trembled with panic. "Kuchiki-san!"
A gaping wound had opened in Rukia's chest. Nestled within was a crystalline sphere—the Hōgyoku. Aizen's smile deepened at the sight.
Within Suzumushi's Enma Kōro barrier, Tōsen Kaname stood without expression, raising his blade. In this domain no one could sense him. His prey was helpless, cut down without ever locating him. Only Zaraki Kenpachi had ever managed to break through—though Tōsen didn't count that as true defeat. Kenpachi had been struck countless times without finding him, until Tōsen's own impatience drove him to deliver a fatal thrust. That mistake allowed Kenpachi to seize the embedded blade and reveal his location.
Tōsen would not make that mistake again. This time, his prey would die before ever touching him.
His blade swung soundlessly. No one in the barrier could hear it slice the air—no one except Tōsen himself. The arc drew toward Su Li's body. Tōsen could almost feel the spray of blood to come. His anticipation spiked.
Then, Su Li's body twisted in an odd, unnatural way. The strike missed entirely.
Tōsen's brow creased. Coincidence?
He adjusted and cut again. Su Li shifted with a small, precise step, and the slash fell through empty space once more.
The disbelief in Tōsen's mind sharpened. Once could be luck. Twice?
Determined to end it, he stepped in and swung again. Su Li turned midair, his gaze falling directly upon Tōsen. The blind captain could feel those eyes on him, and for the first time, a ripple of unease crossed his heart.
He can see me? Impossible.
Still his blade fell—and missed. The certainty of his ability began to fracture. Su Li's gaze never left his face. Tōsen shifted, slashing from new angles, but every strike was evaded with those same uncanny movements.
The flurry of cuts became desperate. Silent blades swept from darkness, each perfectly placed to kill, yet each avoided with the same strange, fluid motion. It was too precise to be chance, but Tōsen knew it was impossible without the senses his Bankai had taken away.
The more he struck, the more confusion ate at him. Su Li moved as if guided by reflex alone—but reflex needed input. How could someone blind, deaf, and cut off from reiatsu respond with such flawless accuracy?
The answer was worse than Tōsen wanted to believe: from start to finish, Su Li's eyes had stayed locked on him, as if no barrier existed at all.
He tried to dismiss it—Yan Mo Cricket was still active, they were both still inside. Su Li could not have regained his senses. Yet the fact remained: he was being read as easily as if nothing had been taken away.
What Tōsen did not know was that Su Li wasn't looking at him in the conventional sense. He wasn't reading reiatsu or relying on blocked senses. His movements came from the air's subtle shifts—the Ultra Instinct's sixth and seventh senses. Yan Mo Cricket's deprivation meant nothing to him. Every change in the air betrayed Tōsen's location and motion, and Su Li's body reacted without conscious thought.
He didn't try to dodge; his body simply moved. That was why Tōsen found his reactions so unnerving. It was like watching someone stand still and yet avoid every strike.
Then Su Li's ears twitched slightly. His smile turned cold. "Seems it's almost done outside."
The words froze Tōsen's blood. Not only could Su Li perceive him—he could also sense events beyond the barrier. What kind of monster was this?
Before horror could fully form on his face, something slammed into his chest. Pain exploded through him as a fist like a sandbag crashed home.
Blood burst from his mouth.
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