Months passed. Missions came and went—none like his first, but all soaked in violence.
Kenpachi's methods were unorthodox, brutal, and often unsanctioned. He rarely used standard shinobi tactics—no stealth, no subtlety. He kicked down doors, fought entire squads barehanded, and left trails of destruction wherever he was sent. His presence on a mission practically guaranteed casualties on both sides.
At first, the other villages thought he was a rumor.
Then the bodies started piling up.
A Kusa border patrol unit: 11 dead, bodies unrecognizable.
A Takigakure caravan: shredded.
A Suna scouting squad: only one survivor, repeating the name over and over in a panic—"𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢… 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫."
Before long, Kenpachi had his own page in the Bingo Books of every Hidden Village.
‣ Code Name: Kenpachi
‣ Village: Kirigakure
‣ Rank: Classified (assumed Chūnin-level, combat suggests Jōnin-tier threat)
‣ Alias: "The Man Butcher"
‣ Notable Traits: Fights without jutsu. No known ninjutsu or genjutsu. Highly lethal taijutsu. Recently adopted use of katana.
‣ Orders: DO NOT ENGAGE unless Jōnin-level or higher. Sub-Jōnin squads are instructed to retreat immediately upon identification.
And it only got worse.
𓂃𓂃
It was during a mission in the Land of Frost—ambushing a mercenary convoy from the Hidden Hot Springs—that Kenpachi came across it.
A simple katana, standard issue for wandering ronin. Nothing special. The blade was chipped. The hilt was wrapped in blood-soaked cloth.
Kenpachi stood over the body of the merc he'd just caved in with a rock, staring at the sword.
He tilted his head.
Hmph. "So this is what it's like."
He picked it up—felt the weight. It wasn't chakra-enhanced. It wasn't fancy. But when he swung it… it felt right.
There was something thrilling about it. Like the edge between life and death had been given shape.
He started using it—not because he needed it, but because it made fights more fun. The clang of steel. The resistance of bone. The mess.
Kenpachi didn't care for precision or swordsmanship. He didn't know any kenjutsu forms. He didn't try to be elegant.
He just swung.
And to the horror of his enemies—he got good at it.
Fast.
He wielded his katana like he wielded his fists—with overwhelming, reckless force. He didn't block. He didn't parry. He broke weapons, bodies, and morale in one wild charge.
And for the first time, the other nations saw him not as a beast…
But as a warrior.
𓂃𓂃
Kumo wasn't about to let the humiliation go unanswered.
The girl he fought—the one who'd bloodied him and lived—survived.
Name: Kaoru of the Black Storm
Rank: Chūnin (newly promoted)
Specialty: Lightning-infused taijutsu + chakra suppression techniques
Status: Under direct training from Darui's predecessor
Word reached Kenpachi weeks later: she lived.
He smiled.
"I knew she'd be fun."
What he didn't know: Kumo had marked him for death. Not just as a target, but as a project. Kaoru volunteered—no, demanded—to be the one to kill him when the time came.
"I want to be the one to break him," she told the Raikage.
Their rematch is inevitable.
For now, Kenpachi continues his missions—hunting stronger prey, testing the blade, chasing the one thing he loves more than anything else in the world:
A fight that might actually kill him.