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"Isane…"
"Do you think there's a chance… that Captain Zaraki Kenpachi didn't actually die? That he survived that battle, maybe even turned the tables and killed his opponent instead?"
The moment that possibility crossed her mind, Unohana Retsu's eyes lit up with an intense gleam.
After all, back when she was the first Kenpachi, she had deliberately gone to the lawless Zaraki District in search of an opponent who could truly satisfy her in battle.
That was where she met a still-young Zaraki Kenpachi.
And there, she witnessed firsthand the terrifying, monster-like strength he possessed.
In Unohana's heart, Zaraki Kenpachi was the only person truly worthy of bearing the title of "Kenpachi."
Because of that, during the previous ranking, she had been visibly downcast when his fate was left uncertain.
Now, as new subtitles appeared on the screen, a powerful intuition surged within her.
She was certain that what came next would include a scene of Zaraki Kenpachi turning defeat into victory.
"I hope so," Isane Kotetsu nodded, just as expectant. "No matter who it is, I don't want to see any of the captains die in the future…"
The ranking resumes.
When the image returned, the first thing to fill the screen was a blinding white desert.
And then—
The sharp clang of colliding blades.
"Clang!"
Dust and sand exploded skyward.
At the center of the pale desert, two figures locked in brutal combat gradually came into focus as the camera drew closer.
"Hah! Arrancar, that toughest Hierro of yours, and those arms that just keep multiplying… you're getting me more and more fired up!" Zaraki Kenpachi laughed wildly, Zanpakutō held in one hand, his grin feral and unrestrained.
Opposite him stood Nnoitra, now transformed into his Santa Teresa form. Six insect-like scythe arms jutted from his body, each wielding a razor-sharp crescent blade.
"You bastard…"
Nnoitra narrowed his eyes in irritation. For a split second, a trace of resentment flashed through his gaze, as if he were barely holding back a storm of pent-up fury.
Hueco Mundo.
When the camera cut to a close-up of Nnoitra's face, the once-silent Las Noches instantly erupted with noise.
As one of Nnoitra's long-standing rivals, the sixth Espada, Grimmjow, was the first to jump in and kick him while he was down.
"Tch… everyone take a look at that expression," Grimmjow sneered loudly. "Don't you see it? That irritation, that impatience in his eyes?"
"What, don't tell me he's being suppressed by a Shinigami?"
He deliberately raised his voice at the end, making sure it echoed throughout Las Noches. The provocation was blatant.
"Yeah… it kind of looks that way."
"He's already released, but there's no confidence in his eyes at all."
"Could it be like Grimmjow said? Is he really about to lose to a Shinigami captain?"
The Arrancar murmured among themselves.
After everything they'd seen in the earlier rankings, they were no longer blindly confident. As the rankings climbed higher, the figures appearing on screen only grew stronger. One overwhelming ability after another had shattered their pride.
And earlier footage had even hinted at Harribel's defeat.
All of it made the Arrancar subconsciously feel that Nnoitra was about to become nothing more than a backdrop to showcase Zaraki Kenpachi's strength.
"Damn it…"
Feeling the strange looks from all around him, Nnoitra's face burned with humiliation. Finally snapping, he roared, "Grimmjow, shut your damn mouth! Stop stirring shit, or I'll kill you!"
"Oh yeah?" Grimmjow ignored the threat entirely and shot back, "Then explain this. Why isn't your name in the subtitles?"
"…!"
Nnoitra's face flushed a deep, ugly red. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Because he knew.
If he were really the protagonist here, why did the screen show the name "Zaraki Kenpachi" instead of his?
The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. His last shred of hope had been that with his strongest Hierro and high-speed regeneration, maybe he could still claw his way into the rankings later.
But now…
That hope felt laughably thin.
More likely than not, he would follow in the footsteps of the other Espada and end up as yet another unlucky background character.
Just as expected.
The next scene confirmed Nnoitra's fears.
"Slash!"
"Slash!"
"Slash!"
Crescent blades swung with savage force.
Dozens of consecutive strikes rained down on Zaraki Kenpachi, cutting into his body again and again.
Nnoitra's eyes were bloodshot as he howled like a madman, "Die already, you trash Shinigami!"
"If one cut isn't enough, then I'll cut you again! I don't believe you can stay standing forever!"
His screams were hysterical, overflowing with rage. All six arms flailed wildly, as if he were trying to vent every ounce of frustration through sheer, relentless slaughter.
And yet—
"Hahahahahaha!"
What answered him was an even more unhinged laugh from Zaraki Kenpachi.
"Come on! Cut me! If you can kill me, that'd be perfect!"
"But with these soft, weak slashes of yours, you could hit me ten thousand times and I still wouldn't go down!"
His body was covered in wounds. His Shihakushō and captain's haori were completely soaked in blood, making him look like a walking corpse drenched in red.
And yet, the more he was cut, the wider his grin grew.
The deeper the wounds, the more exhilarated his expression became.
The sight was deeply unsettling, as if it were screaming to every viewer watching that this man, lost in the ecstasy of pain, truly might be immortal.
Las Noches.
Sharp intakes of breath echoed through the hall.
Staring at the close-up of Zaraki Kenpachi's face, that expression of pure enjoyment, even the Arrancar—each of them a butcher forged atop mountains of corpses—felt their scalps prickle.
Zaraki Kenpachi was being cut nonstop. The blood kept flowing.
And yet, not only did he show no pain, his excitement seemed to climb higher with every strike.
That was…
Straight-up masochism.
"I've gotta say," even Yammy muttered, shaken, "this Shinigami is seriously insane."
He enjoyed tormenting others himself, but seeing this made him realize just how small-time he really was.
Hurting others wasn't scary.
Hurting yourself was.
And Zaraki Kenpachi didn't just do it, he enjoyed it. That was the truly terrifying part.
On the high platform to the left, Starrk lowered his head and let out a helpless sigh. "Man… immortal, huh? Why does it feel like every Shinigami captain is more messed up than the last?"
First there was speed that surpassed Zommari.
Then ice that froze the very atmosphere.
And now this. A battle-crazed masochist who just wouldn't die.
Meanwhile, on the Arrancar side, after Zommari and Harribel, the fifth Espada, Nnoitra, was becoming yet another piece of background scenery.
As the thought sank in, Starrk felt a deep sense of confusion.
Were the Arrancar really destined to be nothing more than stepping stones for the Shinigami?
"..."
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