Flowing Soul Street, Zaraki District
Fuck!
With that white haori, he'd thought she was a Gotei 13 envoy here to scoop up cannon fodder, a way out of this godforsaken place.
But nope, just another Zaraki psycho?
Fujimiya Makoto narrowed his eyes, his scrawny frame hunching like a feral cat, his right hand gripping his sword's hilt. He glared at the long-haired woman with raw hostility, ready for anything.
He'd been thrown into the Soul Society for a while now, but in Zaraki, with no day or night, time was a mess. He couldn't even track the days. All he knew was he'd already killed dozens, maybe a hundred souls who'd come for his head.
Beyond that, his life was just fighting and endless walking. With only his legs and no landmarks, he'd never escaped this vast, barren wasteland.
If it weren't for that weird-ass cheat system keeping him alive, he'd be someone else's lunch by now!
Only now did Fujimiya Makoto get how fucking brutal this "Soul Society" was.
The relentless physical and mental torture had made him stop dead when he saw a figure in a white haori, vaguely tied to the Gotei 13. He'd gathered his guts to call out to her.
But now, it was obvious: he'd been played like a damn rookie.
As he cursed inwardly, a holographic panel lit up before his eyes.
[The essence of love between two souls is a raw, passionate clash, born from the heart, between strength and softness!]
[Don't stop!]
[Swordsmanship +3]
This system, with its dumbass lines and its horny yandere attitude, was her secret weapon. It was called the "Love and Bonds System"—a name almost normal for something so completely fucked up.
Thanks to it, Fujimiya had managed to survive until now.
—BEEP—
Name: Fujimiya Makoto
Spiritual Pressure: Seventh Rank, Upper
Four Arts:
Sword: Fourth Rank (53/100)
Hand-to-Hand: Second Rank (29/100)
Kido: First Rank (35/100)
Movement: Sixth Rank (20/100) [Limited by Talent]
Zanpakuto: Unreleased
Talent Points: 0
Bond Trait: None
Love Trait: None
Note: In this world, the highest level of the four arts is [Kido: Twenty-First Rank], [Holder: Hyosube Ichibei].
Spiritual pressure, four arts, zanpakuto release, and bond/love trait limits are constrained by talent but can be surpassed with [Talent Points].
—END—
No fucking way?!
Seeing his swordsmanship points spike, Fujimiya's heart jolted.
He'd fought over a hundred battles lately. Aside from his shunpo, maxed out early to escape, his best skill was swordsmanship.
To hit this shitty fourth rank, he'd had to kill nearly a hundred guys. But even the toughest fights only gave him five points at most, one at least.
And this woman?
One clash of blades, and bam, three points in one go?!
Realizing this, and knowing stronger, more dangerous foes meant more points…
Fujimiya knew he was fucked today.
"Not attacking?"
While he stared her down, tense, Unohana Yachiru watched him with total calm.
A soft, almost peaceful smile spread across her delicate face.
"Then I'm coming for you."
In a split second, a primal fear gripped Fujimiya. A killing intent so intense it felt like a blade stabbing through him forced him to choose: die or attack.
Clang!
Shunpo, thrust.
Fujimiya's battered asauichi sliced through the air like lightning, driven by instinct, breaching the woman's territory.
He was fast.
But against his assault, Unohana Yachiru just raised her dagger, pointing it forward.
With one move, she completely blocked his path.
No matter how many times he struck, it was always the same.
Meanwhile, holographic panels kept popping up in front of his eyes.
[When you're dying to dive deeper into this big sister, only the most experienced know to hold you back at the edge!]
[Swordsmanship +4]
[No! No! Don't fucking stop!!]
[Swordsmanship +3]
Fujimiya had no time for this bullshit. Fully focused, he could barely hold up against the woman's crushing killing intent.
All his attention was locked on Unohana Yachiru's dagger.
Like staring at a Sword of Damocles about to drop.
He struck faster and faster, his movements pure instinct.
[Swordsmanship +2], [Swordsmanship +3], [Swordsmanship +4]…
Unohana Yachiru, meanwhile, was playing. Her dagger, wielded like a chopstick, effortlessly blocked every one of Fujimiya's strikes, shutting down all his attacks without ever countering.
But as time went on, she furrowed her brow slightly, like something was bugging her.
Suddenly, her dagger twisted, aiming for Fujimiya's chest in a smooth, almost whimsical move.
No warning, no killing intent. A strike out of nowhere.
Yet Fujimiya, as if blind to it, twisted his body, taking the blade in his shoulder while thrusting his much longer asauichi straight at Unohana's dagger path.
Ding!
Unohana's wrist turned, her dagger slightly deflecting Fujimiya's blade. Her brows furrowed deeper.
She hadn't gone all out from the start?
Testing his strength?
No, it didn't feel like a test…
As if she'd found a fascinating new toy, a dazzling gleam flashed in Unohana Yachiru's eyes. Her dagger's speed doubled in an instant.
Slash!
The second she sped up, her dagger ripped through Fujimiya's shoulder, shredding his clothes. Despite a desperate dodge, he only saved his muscles; a wide gash opened on his skin, blood spraying into the air.
[Penetrate! Keep penetrating! How deep she cuts into you shows how much she loves you!]
[Swordsmanship +8]
Beep!
[Sword: Fifth Rank ↑]
As his skill leveled up, Fujimiya's body and mind seemed to break through a limit.
The dagger, a blurry streak before, became crystal clear, its movements fully visible.
He could feel every unrefined spiritual particle in his frail body, and the searing pain in his muscles—wrists, arms, shoulders, waist, legs—as he struck at breakneck speed.
And he noticed something else: this beautiful, serene woman showed no change in breathing, even in such a fierce fight.
Running? A death sentence.
She was just toying with him.
The only way out was to keep her entertained!
Under the crushing weight of her killing intent, his mind had no room for thought.
Fujimiya had one thing to do:
Strike!
Unohana Yachiru, as if ignoring his moves, launched another attack, aiming with the same precision as before.
A boom rang out, her reiatsu exploding around them.
The wind whipped up the sand at their feet, and Fujimiya, like an arrow loosed, struck in a flash, his asauichi grazing Unohana's dagger in a blazing spark.
Clang!
A strike with nearly the same force and speed as the one that had sliced his skin was parried with a fluid swing of his sword.
In that same moment, Fujimiya's blade tip aimed straight for his opponent's heart.
In that instant, his pupils reflected the face of this woman with delicate beauty. On her features, the expression of pleasure, growing sharper through their frenzied clash, suddenly erupted into a strange, almost otherworldly glint—an allure of death that no ordinary person could fathom.
After two probing exchanges, Unohana Yachiru was certain.
This kid wasn't holding back.
No, he was…
Improving!
At a breakneck pace!
Her eyes narrowed, locking onto the young man before her.
On Unohana Yachiru's slightly pale face, a smile both seductive and radiant quietly bloomed.