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"Think twice."
Moyu still hadn't drawn his Zanpakutō, even after landing a few clean hits, holding back deliberately—after all, the one standing across from him was none other than the captain of the 12th Division. Though Kurotsuchi Mayuri's power had been sealed by 80% due to the Gentei Reinjō—his spirit limiter in the world of the living—it remained a sobering truth that, even with such restrictions, should something go wrong and the captain were actually killed, the resulting fallout would be catastrophic.
Yet for all that, this guy's request was absurd.
Moyu had never been one to obsess over the issue of Reiatsu itself and, under normal circumstances, wouldn't have refused a reasonable request from another Shinigami; but when that request came from none other than Kurotsuchi Mayuri—one of the most dangerous men in all of Seireitei—caution took precedence over compliance. In Moyu's mind, only Zaraki Kenpachi ranked higher in sheer raw threat level, while Aizen, of course, stood on a different, unreachable plane entirely.
To hand over something as personal and volatile as his Reiatsu to Mayuri of all people was to invite madness into the world without any clue what form it might take.
"Don't even think about it," Moyu said flatly, his tone devoid of hesitation or courtesy. "I don't know what scheme you're cooking up, Captain Kurotsuchi, but for the sake of my own safety, I'll have to turn down this dangerous request."
Kurotsuchi Mayuri's lips twisted into that infamous grin—a slow, manic curl steeped in calculation and madness.
"Ah... I see."
Moyu blinked, briefly thrown off by the unexpected ease of Mayuri's response, for this was not the reaction he had anticipated. The man was notorious for ignoring refusals, for bypassing protocol through force, manipulation, or worse—so why was he backing down so easily? The calm only deepened the unease.
"It doesn't matter," Mayuri said in a voice laced with something unreadable, eyes glinting with an unhinged clarity that seemed to see far too much. "I believe that one day, Mr. Moyu... you will come to appreciate my generosity."
Moyu's spine tensed at the word—generosity—as if something unnatural had passed through the air. Was the captain implying that Moyu himself would one day go mad? That their paths were fated to converge in ways he couldn't yet grasp?
"Captain Kurotsuchi," Moyu replied coldly, his voice dropping into a sharper register, "if you have official business, I suggest you expedite it. I don't have time to stand around chatting."
For a moment, Mayuri seemed almost caught off guard, but then, with a theatrical flair, he spread his hands wide—pallid skin stretched over grotesquely long fingers, nails curling like claws—his entire posture the portrait of madness restrained only by protocol.
"Arrancar. Espada. Special Reiatsu," he muttered, fingers twitching like gnarled branches sculpting madness into air itself, his expression grotesque as he continued, "This world is a treasure trove of data! And I want it all. Mr. Moyu, I require the battle records from that day. That is a direct order from a superior officer to a subordinate Shinigami!"
As Mayuri's demands escalated into ranting fervor, Moyu sighed with visible exasperation, lifting a hand to rub his ear as if physically warding off the madness. What cosmic joke had cursed him with these lunatics? First Szayelaporro, the deranged scientist in Hueco Mundo, and now this clown-masked lunatic from Seireitei—why did fate conspire to pit him against the mentally unstable time and again?
Unwilling to escalate things further, Mayuri seethed internally at Moyu's thinly veiled disdain, but kept his explosion contained. The reason was simple: Moyu belonged to the Kuchiki clan, one of the Five Noble Houses of Soul Society—a bloodline so high-ranking that even captains tread carefully. The Kuchiki family stood as a pillar of decorum, discipline, and law, and within Soul Society's rigid hierarchy, subordinates were not to disobey superiors—yet when nobility was involved, exceptions emerged like cracks in glass.
"Moyu," Mayuri finally said in a low, deliberate voice, "you intend to defy me using the name of the Kuchiki family?"
"I may be a third seat in the Fourth Division, and yes, protocol says I follow orders from a captain," Moyu answered with steady resolve, his eyes unmoving, "but don't forget—we're in the human world right now, and your authority only goes so far."
In truth, he thought, I should've never wasted my breath on this freak to begin with.
"Is that so?" Mayuri's painted face twisted again, the grin curling into something even more unnatural. "Then I suppose I'll have to extract the information... from other sources."
Moyu's eyes narrowed in response, already one step ahead.
"Mikami Saiki will provide you with the report," he said curtly. "I'm just one officer—what you're looking for is well within his knowledge."
With that, Moyu turned away and disappeared in a blur of Shunpo, vanishing into the wind with a whisper of pressure and silence.
Mayuri's grin didn't fade. If anything, it widened, a shimmer of cold amusement dancing in his eyes as the temperature in the air seemed to drop a few degrees.
"How marvelous... such a desirable Reiatsu," he murmured, voice soft and dangerous.
Back at the storage site, Moyu unceremoniously shoved Mikami Saiki into Mayuri's path, making it clear through action that he wanted no further part in this farce. Let the poor fool deal with the debrief—he was finished with that unstable captain.
And deep down, Moyu already had a sense of what Mayuri was really after.
Ever since awakening his mysterious Cheat, the development of his Reiatsu had accelerated at a rate that outpaced every other aspect of his strength—and for good reason. Every opponent he had faced thus far had possessed monstrous spiritual pressure, almost all of them captain-class or worse, and under that relentless, suffocating pressure, forged through blood and instinct in battle after battle, his Reiatsu had grown to a level even he couldn't fully comprehend.
But if there was one truth he had come to accept, it was that against true top-tier monsters, a gap still remained—a gap not of skill or intent, but of raw, uncontainable power.
Even so… once Reiatsu's potential is fully awakened, everything changes.
Just like that white lightning—unpredictable, unstoppable, absolute.
Everything changes.
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