The Black Coffin was certainly mesmerizing, but the Shikai was not bad either.
That night, Suō Tsukasa spent all the time he usually devoted to Kido practice on Shikai cultivation instead.
After mastering the light cannon, he began some new experiments, such as light walls and reflective light rays.
The light wall could conceal his figure, but its defensive power was average, only slightly stronger than a chantless Engetsu. Its utility was essentially a composite Kido combining Engetsu with Hado #26, Kyokko—a pleasant surprise and an unexpected gain.
The reflective light rays, however, were an absolute failure. Every time the light reflected off a surface, its power diminished. Tsukasa's verdict was that it was useless in combat.
This was not outside Tsukasa's expectations. While some basic properties of the radiance released by Hikari were similar to sunlight, it was essentially a high-density flow of Reishi driven by spiritual pressure, imbued with light characteristics.
If the extension speed of Kamishini no Yari, the fastest Zanpakuto in the Soul Society, was 500 times the speed of sound, the speed of Hikari's light cannon within a certain range could reach twice that. However, it was still far from reaching the true cosmic limit—the speed of light.
Inside the small hut.
Tsukasa sat cross-legged on the bed with his eyes closed, reviewing the day's cultivation. Asauchi and Oboroya lay by his side, his expression as calm as ever.
The joy brought by the successful Shikai was genuine and overwhelming.
The Shikai had indeed clearly enhanced his actual combat capabilities and provided him with a deeper tactical dimension.
When the power of Hikari first woke in his palm, when the scene of the light cannon piercing through the stone pillar entered his eyes, a sense of fulfillment and excitement unlike anything he had felt before seized his heart.
For a moment, he even had the urge to return to the World of the Living to specialize in optics at a university, to thoroughly analyze and maximize the potential of Hikari's light.
However, the failure of his attempt to create the reflective light technique acted like a splash of cold spring water, extinguishing that impulse and waking him from a magnificent, kaleidoscopic dream.
He knew better than anyone that in this world of Shinigami, no matter how multifaceted or mysterious a Zanpakuto's ability might be, the most fundamental and unshakable law was always the suppression of Spiritual Pressure.
Skill might win a moment, but absolute Spiritual Pressure determined the final life or death of the combatants.
The Reishi in the World of the Living was too thin. For every second he stayed there, his Spiritual Pressure accumulation stagnated. Not to mention the time and effort required to replenish the Spiritual Pressure consumed while acting in the living world—it was nothing short of putting the cart before the horse.
"The development of the Zanpakuto's Shikai ability is, in the end, merely the icing on the cake."
Tsukasa opened his eyes, his gaze falling upon the pair of swords beside him.
"The foundation always lies in the accumulation of Spiritual Pressure and the cultivation of the four Shinigami arts."
Having realized this, the last trace of impetuousness caused by obtaining new power settled completely within him.
"Time to sleep!"
Tsukasa was currently satisfied with the development of his Zanpakuto's abilities. When the sun rose tomorrow, he would continue to go to work and continue his day-to-day cultivation.
He would walk the simplest and most solid path.
Six hours later.
Ring ring ring—
The sound of the alarm clock was exceptionally clear in the small hut.
Tsukasa's hand shot out from under the covers, accurately pressing the alarm. He rose slowly and opened his eyes. His gaze was clear and bright; his whole being was full of spirit and energy, without a hint of grogginess.
This sleep duration was a balance he had discovered through repeated experimentation, sufficient to sweep away the fatigue of the previous day.
Tsukasa walked out of the hut with Oboroya and squinted slightly. The underground training field made no distinction between day and night; the outdoor brightness remained constant.
Before the hot spring hut had been built, the omnipresent light had indeed affected the quality of his sleep. That was why, no matter how tired he had been before, Tsukasa had always insisted on returning to the dormitory to rest.
After washing up, he used the convenient hot spring to boil a few eggs. The whites were tender and the yolks were runny; paired with freshly stir-fried meat and vegetables and steaming rice, he finished his first meal.
He finished his morning exercise without taking too much time, changed into his Shihakusho, and took his Asauchi. A moment later, Tsukasa's spirited figure vanished from the high cliff wall.
Running from Sokyoku Hill toward the Thirteenth Division, he encountered no one on the desolate roads of the Seireitei. He already knew the patrol routes of the ordinary members by heart.
However, unlike previous days, his spiritual sense perceived four people with very strong Spiritual Pressures rapidly approaching him from the side.
Tsukasa was a bit surprised, but he already had guesses and an answer in his heart. Sensing their approach, he did not intentionally hide. He was already far from Sokyoku Hill; it didn't matter if he was seen.
As expected, traveling back and forth between the two places without hindrance forever was an impossibility. Sensing the spiritual pressures getting closer, he did not intentionally accelerate to dodge, but instead slightly slowed the speed of his Shunpo.
Shortly after his pace slowed, a tiny pink figure landed on the wall in front of him like a small whirlwind, her voice crisp and cute.
"Your Shunpo is so fast! I'm Kusajishi Yachiru. What's your name?"
"Thirteenth Division—"
Though the spiritual pressure felt unfamiliar to Tsukasa, the appearance of the person before him was not unfamiliar at all: the Vice-Captain of the Eleventh Division.
Just as he was about to answer, a heavy and aggressive sound of footsteps accompanied by the unique sound of bells approached from afar. With every chime of the bells, the invisible pressure in the air grew heavier.
"Yachiru, where is the interesting fellow you mentioned?"
With a boisterous shout, a massive figure charged excitedly from around the corner.
With a wild, unique hairstyle tied with small bells and a conspicuous, tattered white Captain's haori, it could be no one other than the Captain of the Eleventh Division, Zaraki Kenpachi.
Along with a bald man and a somewhat flamboyant male who landed by his side, the Eleventh Division quartet was, as expected, all present. Among the Gotei 13, such a collection of powerful individuals was unique to this squad.
In the next moment, Zaraki Kenpachi's tall frame stopped in front of Tsukasa with a pressure that was almost tangible. Instantly, the air around Tsukasa seemed to freeze. This was the unconscious leakage from Zaraki Kenpachi—a pure and barbaric aura like a prehistoric beast, enough to make an ordinary Shinigami's heart tremble.
Standing at the center of this Spiritual Pressure storm, Tsukasa's expression did not change at all.
"Thirteenth Division, Third Seat Suō Tsukasa. Greetings to everyone, and greetings, Captain Zaraki."
He had nothing to fear from these people. With a smile, he completed his greeting calmly.
This extraordinary composure caused Madarame Ikkaku to raise an eyebrow and shifted Ayasegawa Yumichika's attention from Tsukasa's appearance to his entire being.
"Indeed, somewhat interesting."
Zaraki Kenpachi's gaze swept over Tsukasa's robust physique and steady demeanor. His eyes were like a predator scouting prey, locked firmly onto Tsukasa.
Though the prey before him was slightly green, it didn't stop him from feeling a flicker of interest.
"Zaraki Kenpachi. Kid, I'll remember you."
His one eye finally met Tsukasa's gaze directly, and he grinned with satisfaction. Although it was a smile, there wasn't a hint of friendliness in it; combined with the scar running down the right side of his face, it looked quite terrifying.