Aizen sensed something was wrong.
The reishi in the air had become unusually active, as if something it deeply hated had appeared nearby—triggering an instinctive repulsion.
"Sora, what did you see?"
"The gate to Hell."
"…?"
As Naraku stared at the slowly opening door, dark-red currents filled the room, raising goosebumps.
The skulls embedded in the door opened their eyes and stared straight at Takeda Satoru sealed in the tank.
Just as Aizen had said.
Takeda truly did have some connection to Hell, and the commotion was clearly being drawn here by him.
The skull's bony hands shifted, slowly pulling the Hell gate wider.
When it fully opened, black and red intertwined in the void beyond, like blood congealed into a solid mass.
The next instant, countless black chains shot out, streaking straight for Takeda inside the tank!
Naraku reacted on instinct, drawing his sword upward. A slash wrapped in blood-red Reiatsu burst out and knocked the chains away in an instant.
Takeda Satoru was hard-won loot. No way was Naraku letting something else "steal the kill."
The chains retreated after a single exchange, with no hesitation—
Like a child yanking its hand back after touching fire.
They shot back into the dark-red vortex.
The skull's eyes remained open, black pupils fixing on Naraku as if carving the attacker's face into memory.
A moment later, an ear-splitting creak filled the lab—like a knife stabbing straight into the brain.
Then, before Naraku's confused gaze, the gate to Hell disappeared.
The turbulent air settled. The lab returned to silence, except for the sizzling sound from the device Naraku had accidentally sliced apart—like the equipment itself was accusing him.
Aizen's shock flickered and vanished. He returned to calm.
"If I said I didn't see anything at all… would you believe me?"
Naraku: …
So in your eyes, that terrifying scene was just me suddenly losing my mind and chopping up valuable instruments?
Was that Hell gate specifically trying to frame him?
Aizen lowered his eyes to the ruined device, thought for a few seconds, then said:
"Same as our earlier hypothesis—Takeda Satoru definitely has a connection to Hell. Whether it's fusion with 'the gas' or the fact he's already dead… will require deeper research."
"But what truly interests me is this."
"Why were you the only one who could see the gate to Hell?"
In truth, Aizen had sensed it the moment it appeared. Aside from the abnormal reishi activity, sealed Takeda had begun trembling violently.
And some trace of "gas" had even seeped through the seal.
Naraku thought carefully about what was special about him.
Aside from being a paragon of justice, the only oddities were his perfectly fused Hollow power and his abnormal growth potential.
On the surface, neither seemed directly related to Hell.
Seeing Naraku sink into thought, Aizen's eyes showed a hint of helplessness.
Back in their Academy days, Naraku had been perfectly normal.
How had he become this after joining?
Leaving aside the ridiculous talent, the reversible hollowfication alone—and the unclear connection to Hell—either one would shake Soul Society to its core.
"If we get the chance, we should ask Head-Captain Yamamoto," Aizen suggested. "As the oldest Shinigami in the Gotei 13, he likely knows many hidden details."
"Of course—don't be an idiot and blurt out what happened to you."
"If there's any hidden risk here, there's no guarantee Yamamoto won't 'do the right thing' and purge his own disciple."
Naraku nodded, then frowned as another thought struck him.
"Then… do we keep Takeda Satoru?"
"Judging by what we just saw, Hell was probably coming for him."
Aizen frowned as well, eyes on the container. After a moment of thought, he looked to Naraku.
"Let's dispose of him."
"The corpse still has research value. As for captain-class specimens… we may have chances later."
Before their wings were fully grown, caution mattered.
Aizen didn't like leaving something this dangerous nearby. If the Hell gate opened again while Naraku wasn't around, it could become a disaster.
They worked quickly. The seals on the container were undone, Takeda Satoru was brought out—and Naraku's sword fell cleanly, ending their feud in one stroke.
The Hell gate did not reappear.
It was as if the incident had forced it back into silence.
Everything returned to calm.
Naraku, meanwhile, waited excitedly for [Justice] to respond. By his experience, as Tsunayashiro's accomplice, Takeda's sin value had to be enormous.
Among all enemies he'd faced, Takeda was undeniably strong.
Based on what he'd seen, the rewards should be substantial.
After that fight, Naraku had burned through most of his "trump cards."
Now he needed a new, stronger one.
[Successfully executed criminal: Takeda Satoru. Sin Value: 11451. Contribution: 100%!]
[Your Reiatsu has increased!]
[Your understanding of swordsmanship has improved. You have perfectly mastered the secret technique: Dragon Flash!]
[Your understanding of Hadō has improved. You have perfectly mastered Hadō #73: Sōren Sōkatsui!]
[Your understanding of Hakuda has broken past its limit. You have awakened: Black Flash!]
The instant the screen vanished, strange knowledge poured up from deep within his soul.
Countless Hakuda techniques tangled together, merged, and burst into the mind as inspiration.
They converged into a single technique: Black Flash.
Originally a high-level skill from a certain "neighboring technical college," its essence was this:
If you align the gap between energy impact and physical strike within 0.000001 seconds, it creates a distortion in space, causing explosive growth in destructive power.
The increase was 2.5 to the power of something.
Yes—not 2.5 times, but an exponent.
A technique that essentially "fills the stats with your feet."
At its core, it's simply: the higher your base numbers, the more terrifying the burst.
Because the worldviews don't match, the effect here would differ.
Naraku didn't know whether he could truly achieve that full "2.5 exponent" level of devastation.
But given his already absurd stats…
He didn't even dare imagine how strong a One Bone would be with Shikai + partial hollowfication + Black Flash stacked on top.
Left punch high damage, right punch higher damage.
Beside him, Aizen stared in suspicion at Naraku standing there in a daze, briefly thinking he'd hallucinated.
The moment Takeda died, Naraku's aura seemed to swell again—just a little.
Compared to the inexplicable gate to Hell, Naraku Sora might actually be the more bizarre thing in the room.
Maybe the truly high-value research specimen was right in front of him.
Lost in his daydream, Naraku suddenly shivered. A chill shot from his tailbone to the crown of his head, like something indescribable was staring at him.
He looked around, but found nothing suspicious.
Naraku turned to the thoughtful Aizen, grinned, and asked:
"Sōsuke—if you keep the timing difference between spiritual impact and physical impact within 0.000001 seconds… how much destruction do you think you get?"
Aizen: "?"
Three days after the Moriyama estate incident, Ninth Division finally realized their captain was missing.
Without hesitation, Vice-Captain Muguruma Kensei—owner of a time-type Zanpakutō—rushed to First Division to report.
"When did he go missing?"
"Unknown."
"Did he leave any clues before disappearing?"
"Unknown."
"When was he last seen?"
"Unknown."
Kensei lowered his head in shame. As vice-captain, he didn't even know when his own captain vanished.
Incompetent to the extreme.
Yamamoto's expression turned grim.
He immediately summoned the Onmitsukidō and ordered specialists to investigate any traces within Ninth Division's barracks.
They were also to search the Noble District vicinity as thoroughly as possible.
It turned out even the most "professional" investigators were useless against a captain's methods.
No traces were found—at the barracks or anywhere else he might have gone.
Before leaving for the Moriyama estate, Takeda had already used Kidō to erase his trail—ironically making things easier for Naraku and Aizen afterward.
With the Onmitsukidō's limited skill, how could they find anything?
After the final report, Yamamoto fell silent.
Ever since Takeda attacked his troublesome disciple at the Yokota estate without distinguishing right from wrong, Takeda's life had been… a string of misfortune.
First Shutara Senjumaru shattered his Bankai. Then an unknown attacker ambushed him. Now he was gone without a trace—no evidence at all.
The sheer strangeness was infuriating.
A thought surfaced in Yamamoto's mind:
Could this be related to Naraku?
But he quickly shook his head. Based on what he knew of that idiot disciple, Naraku still wasn't Takeda's match.
Even if Naraku had improved dramatically and could barely win, there was no way he could erase a captain quietly.
Captain-level combat was destructive by nature.
Most likely… nobles were involved.
Yamamoto stared out the window under the scorching sun. In the bright light, the shadows in the corners looked deeper than ever.
And the largest shadows of all were those towering, ancient noble estates.
After a moment, his low voice sounded again in the office.
"Chōjirō. Convene a captains' meeting."
"Yes, Genryūsai-sama."
"And have the Central Prison send a representative as well."
Sasakibe Chōjirō looked up in surprise, catching the contemplative look on Yamamoto's face.
He didn't ask questions. He quietly left the room.
First Division, captains' conference hall.
Naraku's first instinct upon receiving the notice was to run.
But then he thought again.
If Yamamoto truly had solid evidence, he wouldn't call a captains' meeting—
He'd personally come to the Central Prison to kill him.
So Naraku showed up, nerves of steel—barely.
Since the Central Prison was closest to First Division, Naraku entered the hall before the other captains arrived.
He picked a spot against the wall and waited. It was his first captains' meeting.
Soon the doors opened, and one powerful presence after another stepped inside.
There were plenty of familiar faces.
Shihōin Yoruichi—though weaker than many captains, her status as clan head kept her in the Second Division captaincy.
Fourth Division Captain Unohana Retsu—aside from Yoruichi, the captain Naraku knew best. They frequently traded swordsmanship insights.
Come to think of it, Naraku still hadn't shown Unohana the secret technique Dragon Flash after learning it. Once this meeting ended, he'd have to find time to spar properly.
There was also his "cheap" senior, Kyōraku Shunsui.
Next to him stood a young man who looked sickly. If Naraku had to guess, it was the other senior—Ukitake Jūshirō.
Noticing Naraku in the corner, Ukitake blinked, then smiled and gave a small nod.
The rest were mostly unfamiliar.
Third Division was represented by a vice-captain: an elderly woman with graying hair and wrinkles, yet her dignified presence didn't lose to any captain there.
Tenth and Eleventh Division's captains were two faces Naraku didn't recognize at all.
But he'd heard their names:
Unno Unpei and Gosuke.
Twelfth Division's captain looked vaguely familiar—Shutara had mentioned her before, a researcher with extraordinary talent.
Long pink hair, tall figure, delicate features—and most strikingly, a figure no less stunning than Unohana's.
A future Royal Guard member as well: Kirio Hikifune.
Several captains offered Naraku friendly smiles, their attitude oddly warm.
Others also noticed the unfamiliar face.
Even if it was their first time seeing him, it didn't take much thought to guess who he was.
After all, recently this man had caused no small amount of turbulence in Seireitei, nearly shifting the balance itself.
If they hadn't met him, they'd certainly heard his name.
At this moment, the most watched "new star" was undoubtedly Yamamoto's newly accepted disciple.
Most of them showed goodwill—though there was an exception.
Sixth Division's captain: an elderly man with graying hair, a wrinkled face, and a stern, imposing expression.
Kuchiki Ginrei.
Unlike the others, Ginrei noticed Naraku the instant he entered. His expression stiffened, then anger flashed on his calm face as he stared directly at Naraku—
As if there were some personal grudge between them.
Naraku frowned, baffled. He had no idea how he'd offended this old man.
Once everyone had arrived—even Ukitake, who often skipped meetings—Yamamoto nodded.
Then he raised his cane and tapped it lightly against the floor.
The dull sound echoed through the room, and the captains' meeting began.
~~~
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