"Aaaah!!!"
In Yamamoto's private dojo within the 1st Division barracks, Satoru let out a humiliating scream before collapsing to the ground, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut.
Yamamoto slowly lowered his bamboo sword, his expression tinged with exasperation.
He hadn't even put much strength into that last strike—was this really necessary?
After pondering for over ten seconds, he nodded. "I believe I now have a general understanding of your capabilities."
"Though my expectations were already high, your strength still managed to surpass them."
"If you continue walking the correct path without being misled or blinded by distractions, your future will be limitless."
Satoru slowly sat up. "Wait, Captain-Commander, I just got beaten up like this, and instead of checking my injuries, you jump straight to lecturing?"
A vein bulged on Yamamoto's forehead. "Injuries? You call this an injury? Soul Society has no room for such weak-willed Shinigami!"
Satoru sighed.
Being a Shinigami was too hard—the treatment was nowhere near as good as singing, dancing, or rap.
After a moment of thought, Yamamoto spoke again. "Satoru Mikami, have you achieved Shikai?"
Satoru shook his head. "Nope."
Though he had synchronized with Aizen's abilities, he hadn't acquired Kyōka Suigetsu.
Not only that—he hadn't even gained the ability to perform Shikai itself.
Satoru felt this was likely related to the unique nature of Zanpakutō.
The abilities of a Zanpakutō represent the attributes of one's soul. Only by establishing communication with one's soul can one channel power into an Asauchi and attain the ability to release their Zanpakutō.
No matter how much spiritual pressure he synchronized from Aizen, it couldn't alter the fundamental nature of his own soul. Therefore, to achieve Zanpakutō release, he still had to rely on himself.
Hearing this, Yamamoto frowned slightly.
Despite already possessing vice-captain-level strength, he still hadn't managed to release his Zanpakutō.
Generally speaking, such a situation indicated that the Shinigami lacked sufficient understanding of their own soul.
In other words, they lacked firm conviction—their spirit wasn't mature enough.
The more he understood Satoru's potential, the more he worried this young man might stray onto the wrong path.
After some thought, he said to Satoru, "In that case, for now, focus your greatest efforts on achieving your Zanpakutō's release."
"Starting today, I will teach you a new method of sword meditation. You must practice it for at least two hours daily, striving to establish communication with your Zanpakutō as quickly as possible."
With that, he sat cross-legged on the spot and began instructing Satoru in the sword meditation techniques he had refined.
Yamamoto's method wasn't overly complicated in principle.
To achieve the optimal state of tranquility, one had to control spiritual pressure, stimulate the body and mind, and reach a state of deep relaxation—allowing prolonged communication with the Zanpakutō.
After a few attempts, Satoru successfully entered this state.
However, no matter how long he meditated, he only drifted aimlessly in darkness, unable to hear his Zanpakutō's voice, let alone achieve release.
Yamamoto didn't comment much on this, simply urging him to keep practicing.
"Since you can't master Zanpakutō release in the short term, let's first focus on a combat technique that can serve as a substitute."
"Both Shinigami and Hollows possess some degree of unique abilities."
"Engaging in direct close combat with an unfamiliar opponent is extremely dangerous."
Under Satoru's watchful gaze, Yamamoto raised his bamboo sword.
Then, with a sharp downward swing—
A silver crescent-shaped slash surged forward, striking the test stone reinforced by countless Kidō spells and leaving a deep gash.
Satoru blinked in surprise. "Getsuga Tenshō?"
"What?" Yamamoto looked puzzled.
"Ah, nothing. I just remembered a story I heard from some kids in Rukongai—there was a move similar to that one..."
Yamamoto nodded.
Some souls freshly arrived from the living world still retained fragments of their past memories, so it wasn't unusual for them to mention strange things unheard of in Soul Society.
He explained calmly, "This technique is called Kenatsu (Sword Pressure)."
"Its principle is similar to Kidō—converting spiritual pressure into a specialized attribute."
"For example, Hadō #4: Byakurai transforms spiritual pressure into lightning."
"Hadō #31: Shakkahō converts it into fire."
"Kenatsu enhances this through the Zanpakutō, converting one's spiritual pressure into the attribute of 'slashing.'"
"Now, I will explain the details of this technique. Commit them to memory."
At a measured pace, Yamamoto demonstrated the mechanics of Kenatsu to Satoru.
Once finished, he asked, "Did you remember everything?"
Satoru pondered for a few seconds before replying, "I've already forgotten a small part."
Yamamoto: "?"
He frowned. "Which part did you forget?"
Satoru thought for a moment. "Now I've forgotten most of it."
Yamamoto: "???"
Before the old man could react, Satoru clapped his hands. "Now I've forgotten all of it!"
Tilting his head slightly, he flashed a smile—one befitting a lonely master.
Surely, after hearing such a profound statement, Yamamoto would be deeply moved, realizing he had stumbled upon a martial arts prodigy.
Who knows? In his excitement, he might even pull out some secret ultimate technique.
Under his somewhat expectant gaze, Yamamoto took a deep breath.
Then, he roared, "Get the hell back right now! You better master it within this week, or I'll make sure you learn the consequences of mocking your elders!"
Without waiting for Satoru to respond, Yamamoto promptly kicked him out.
Watching the dojo doors slam shut with a loud bang, Satoru sighed inwardly.
Yamamoto really had no clue about maintaining an aura of coolness.
No wonder he died in the Thousand-Year Blood War... In shonen manga, style equals power. Once you lose that edge, you're just background fodder.
Captain-Commander Yamamoto still had a lot to learn.
Just as he was about to leave, Satoru's expression suddenly changed.
Judging by the sky, dinner time at Shin'ō Academy must have already passed.
If he went back now, he'd probably have to go hungry all night!
But soon, he came up with a plan.
As the leader of the Gotei 13, the 1st Division's mess hall should still have food available.
With his current skills, sneaking in to grab some food would be child's play.
The power he'd obtained from Aizen had never been put to any proper use—today, it would finally serve its purpose.
If the power itself had feelings, it would surely be moved to finally be of use, right?
Satoru smirked and quickly moved out.
Before long, he located the 1st Division's mess hall.
Pressing against the back wall, he cautiously approached a window while keeping an eye out for any "enemy presence."
Suddenly, a voice spoke up right beside him—
"What are you doing?"
"Holy shit?!"
Startled, Satoru turned his head.
There, a dark-skinned girl in a cloak was smiling at him.
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