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Urahara Shop, underground training hall.
When Abarai Renji came to, the first thing he saw was an axe-shaped face looming inches away. His first instinct was to kick it, but the motion tore at his wounds, making him grit his teeth in pain.
"Mr. Renji, you'd better be mindful of your condition," Tessai Tsukabishi said gravely from far too close. "It's dangerous enough to entrust Shinigami power entirely to a human, and before that, your injuries were already severe."
Renji took a slow breath, frowning. "Then why are you lying on top of me?"
"To use my body heat to stabilize your condition," Tessai replied without a hint of irony. Renji, long used to the clerk's twenty-three eccentric habits, could only sigh.
"Where's the shopkeeper?"
The door slid open before the words had cooled in the air.
"Yo. You woke up fast," Urahara Kisuke said, folding fan in hand as he stepped in with unhurried ease. "I'm afraid I have bad news."
Renji's heart tightened, as if gripped by an unseen fist.
"Your Shinigami power has been completely taken by that person, and unless something changes, it won't return for three months." Kisuke's voice dropped low, his eyes shadowed beneath the brim of his hat.
Renji let out a weary breath. "The Menos Grande I faced last night was absurdly tough. The only way to fight it was to trade wounds for wounds, but even then I couldn't bring it down. In the end, I had no choice but to resort to that method."
Kisuke sat cross-legged across from him. "But you understand this violates Soul Society law, and if the Technology Development Bureau finds out—"
Renji waved a hand, unconcerned. "We'll deal with that when it happens."
Kisuke shook his head at the lack of worry. "In that case… please settle your bill."
Renji blinked. "What bill?"
The brim tilted to reveal a profiteer's grin. "Treatment, soul stabilization, and special skeletal reinforcement—ten million kan."
Renji's eyes rolled back and he collapsed. For him, those words were the true unbearable weight of life.
Nearly two months passed since Moyu's return to this world. Soul Society remained unusually quiet.
The only persistent nuisance was Matsumoto Rangiku, who kept inviting him to drinking parties, then drank herself unconscious and collapsed in his arms. He always ended up carrying her back to Tenth Division headquarters.
The result was a squad full of complex stares whenever he appeared.
Vice-captains at these gatherings began to suspect his drinking tolerance, since he was always the last man standing.
Moyu only smiled. He couldn't exactly tell them his body had adapted to every type of alcohol in Soul Society.
Beyond the parties, one incident disturbed Seireitei's calm.
Renji, after several reassignments, vanished while stationed in the living world. His spiritual pressure disappeared entirely from the Technology Development Bureau's monitors.
The Thirteenth Division launched a special investigation, even drawing Captain Jūshirō Ukitake's attention.
Despite exhaustive searches, not a single clue surfaced. It was as if Abarai Renji had been erased from existence.
Under the pale wash of moonlight, the Bureau hummed with quiet activity.
Buburine monitored the cross-dimensional Reiatsu detection array, her fingers tapping the controls.
Then the lower left of the screen flared red and an alarm shrieked, drawing every gaze.
"Twenty to thirty more Gillians have appeared in the living world—notify Seireitei and mobilize combat units."
Menos Grande attacks were no longer rare, but a cluster of one hundred and seventy required vice-captain or captain-level force to contain.
Then, as suddenly as it began, the alarm ceased and the red faded.
Ah Jin arrived at the sound, listened to the report, and frowned. "The Menos swarm is gone? Inform First Division and confirm whether any captain or vice-captain is currently deployed there."
When the Bureau's notice reached Moyu, he already had his answer.
If his guess was right, it was Ichigo and Ishida Uryū. That earlier blow hadn't wiped out the Quincy's clan—just crippled them.
Fate's correction had drawn the two together again, and this Menos horde was the crucible that would decide a victor.
A faint smile touched his lips. If so, Aizen would soon advance his plan. The lure of a perfect Hōgyoku was far beyond anything he could resist.
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