Soul Society.
South Rukongai, District 1.
A vast mansion spanned nearly the entire district—an architectural colossus that dwarfed the surrounding landscape. Hanging at its grand entrance was a plaque carved with two elegant characters: Kuchiki.
This was the ancestral estate of the Kuchiki Clan, one of the Four Great Noble Houses of Soul Society.
Deep within its inner courtyard, beneath the shadow of a towering 100-meter banyan tree, a young man trained relentlessly.
Seventeen, perhaps eighteen years old, he moved with purpose, his hand gripping a wooden bokken that sliced through the air with each stroke. The cutting wind produced a sharp whoosh every time he swung.
His features were striking—refined and dignified. His long black hair framed a face both youthful and battle-hardened. Adorning his head and neck were the star-leading hairpins, an ornament worn only by the nobility.
Sweat trailed down his brow and splashed onto the courtyard stones.
His eyes, a pale and unusual shade of violet, were dull—lifeless.
He was blind.
This was Kuchiki Shiraha, younger brother of Byakuya Kuchiki, and a direct member of the main house. Once hidden from public sight, now quietly becoming a storm within Soul Society.
"Nine thousand nine hundred ninety-eight... nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine... ten thousand."
He exhaled, lowered the bokken, and let a faint smile tug at the corner of his mouth.
A voice echoed inside his mind—mechanical, cold, and inhuman.
"Fujitora: One Smile Template – Progress 20%."
"Abilities: Observation Haki – Intermediate. Armament Haki – Elementary."
"Exclusive Ability: Locked. Sealed state required. Progress threshold met."
This system—his golden finger—was his only companion when he transmigrated into this world. Its sole function: extract and load templates from other realities. With each percent gained, his strength grew.
Ten thousand sword swings per day over five years had earned him just 1% progress.
Check-in missions accelerated growth, but slow mastery was the system's true foundation.
He began with 10% progress.
Now, at 20%, his Observation Haki allowed him to perceive everything within a kilometer radius. His Armament Haki, though still elementary, coated one hand—boosting both defense and physical power.
Template abilities were categorized in four ranks: Beginner, Intermediate, Advanced, and Complete.
The ultimate skill of the Fujitora template was the Gravity Devil Fruit—a power to control gravitational forces with devastating efficiency.
He looked up at the sky, clouds drifting overhead.
"Only the sealed state remains," Shiraha murmured.
As if on cue, a servant entered the courtyard and bowed respectfully.
"Master Shiraha, the sealed state that the former head requested has arrived."
In his hands, he held a blade wrapped in ceremonial cloth, its surface glinting with a faint metallic sheen.
The former head—Kuchiki Yinling, Shiraha's grandfather—had secured this blade upon Shiraha's request. A sealed state, essential for Soul Reapers to channel their powers.
For the average soul, acquiring a sealed state meant enrolling in the Shin'ō Academy.
But for the Kuchiki Clan, such formalities were irrelevant.
Shiraha accepted the weapon silently as the servant withdrew.
"So this is it..." he whispered, running his fingers along the sealed edge. Through Observation Haki, he sensed no distinction between this blade and any other.
He raised the weapon.
"Activate exclusive ability."
The system responded instantly.
"Exclusive ability activation confirmed."
"Fujitora Template – Progress 20%."
"Exclusive Ability Unlocked: Gravity Fruit (Mastery Level) – Full control of gravity up to 10x within a 1 km radius."
The sealed blade began to shift in his hand. Its shape warped—reforging itself into a sheathed shikomizue, a cane-sword like the one Fujitora once wielded. The transformation was smooth, purposeful.
And then, he felt it—a new force inside him.
Gravity bent around his body as if obeying instinct. He could feel the pressure of the earth and sky alike.
Testing it, Shiraha turned to a nearby stone table, placing his right hand in its direction.
"Double gravity."
The stone creaked, the ground beneath it sagging.
"Triple."
The earth gave way entirely. A large pit formed, swallowing the table until only its edge was visible.
"Five times."
A low rumble tore through the courtyard as the table fractured. In moments, it collapsed into gravel—pulverized from within. The pit deepened, now ten meters across.
It wasn't just the exterior being crushed—gravity seeped into the stone itself, compressing every molecule.
Shiraha nodded in approval.
"Five times... impressive. But what about the limit?"
He took a step back, tightened his grip on the cane blade, and slowly began to unsheathe it.
"Ten times gravity."
As the blade left its scabbard, a violent surge of purple Reiatsu exploded from his body. It swept through the courtyard like a tidal wave.
Crack—crack—CRACK!
The air twisted. The very atmosphere seemed to buckle under the crushing pressure. Trees bent. Stones shattered. The earth split open, fissures racing outward. Within seconds, the entire area surrounding Shiraha had transformed into a ravaged wasteland.
At that same moment, deep within the Kuchiki estate, Kuchiki Yinling—a venerable old man with snow-white hair—opened his eyes. His expression turned grim as he sensed the surge.
"That spiritual pressure... it's already at captain level," he muttered. "It came from Shiraha's training ground. Has something gone wrong?"
With a flash of Shunpo, Yinling vanished.