Chapter 866: Formless Realm Heaven, The Great Free Hollow Idol
Behind Satoru Gojo, the white chains slowly rose within the violently erupting spiritual pressure, looping and linking behind his back to form concentric halos.
The corners of his mouth pulled upward, his entire aura turning manic under the boundless surge of spiritual energy.
Gojo had never tasted soul power this vast. If his original birth had shattered the balance of the Jujutsu world merely through possessing the Six Eyes and immense cursed energy reserves...
Then in his current state, were he reborn into that world, he would be an anomaly capable of obliterating the Gojo Clan at birth and single-handedly terminating the cycle of cursed energy itself.
The qualitative density of his soul was fundamentally distinct. This was no longer a matter of sorcerer talent; declaring himself the sole honored one throughout heaven and earth was insufficient to describe this threshold.
He was no longer a creature operating on the same biological plane as any sorcerer, curse user, or cursed spirit from that former reality.
Even entities like Tengen or Ryomen Sukuna now stood separated from him by an unbridgeable dimensional chasm.
Intoxicated by that surging might, Gojo slipped into rare, unbridled abandon. Yielding to pure instinct, his hand clamped around the hilt of the pristine white blade resting at his hip, sliding it free by a single inch.
A sky-blue blade materialized. His spiritual pressure could no longer be contained—nor did Gojo hold any desire to suppress it. At this very moment, he burned to unleash that torrent of power.
Kaito Shirogane lifted his eyes. Behind Gojo, the white chains studded with Six Eyes linked into three distinct halos—two large, one small. Blue-and-white spiritual pressure expanded within the circles as the eyes along the chain links snapped open, casting cold, detached gazes across the void.
Gojo slowly drew the zanpakuto to its tip, pointing the azure steel toward the ceiling. Within the private quarters, a violent tempest forged entirely of spiritual pressure swept through the room.
Kaito stood rooted in place, watching the white robes across Gojo's torso dissolve into air. Above the blade, reality rippled like disturbed water as blue-and-white spiritual pressure bled outward.
Because this was his inaugural Resurrección, Gojo's transformation unfolded at a slow, deliberate pace. Kaito made no move to interrupt. Instead, he engaged the Primordial Dragon Eyes, parsing every nuance of the release as distinct foundational forces surfaced in turn:
Soul power, spatial authority, paradoxical distortion...
The space above Gojo's blade was completely submerged in ripples, before sparkling motes of light bloomed across the perimeter.
Kaito did not need to swivel his pupils; the panoramic visual field of his Primordial Dragon Eyes was far broader than that of the Six Eyes.
He tracked the Reishi drifting throughout the chamber as it warped under Gojo's spiritual pressure. Hexagonal prisms materialized across the void, spinning and expanding at alarming speed.
In an instant, Kaito's personal quarters were entirely enclosed by rotating blue-and-white prisms. Every crystalline prism spun on its axis, the refractive glare disorienting all perception of physical space.
It mirrored the architecture of an Innate Domain, carrying visual similarities to Senbonzakura's Bankai, yet was densely saturated with spatial mechanics—the direct evolution of Gojo's innate Limitless technique.
Standing at the epicenter, Kaito remained entirely insulated from the spatial vertigo, clinically dissecting Gojo's emerging toolset down to the marrow.
Gojo paid zero heed to his host's scrutiny. Right now, he was thoroughly submerged within the intoxicating flood of raw might, oblivious to all else.
His expression twisted into an ecstatic, manic grimace, his eyes widening to their limit. This was his authentic, unvarnished nature.
He reveled in the euphoria of laying his entire soul bare—a threshold cursed energy could never hope to touch. Emotional volatility was merely superficial foam; the soul was the true bedrock.
Never in his existence had he experienced a moment so completely attuned to his core.
"Hah..."
A faint, dreamy chuckle slipped past his lips before swelling into an unbridled roar.
The white robes across Gojo's torso dissolved completely. His exposed chest was coated in pristine white soul-matter, leaving an empty, abyssal Hollow hole gouged through the center of his throat.
Within this surreal mirror-space, Gojo could displace his coordinates to any point at will. He blinked into mid-air, assuming a cross-legged meditative posture. Though his ecstatic expression remained unchanged, his physical vessel abruptly settled into an immovable, Buddhist tranquility.
"Renounce all forms; sit exalted upon the nine heavens!"
[Formless Realm Heaven · Great Free Hollow Idol]!
With the release phrase uttered, his spiritual pressure multiplied more than tenfold, a tidal wave of blue-and-white Reishi swallowing everything in sight.
A thin mantle of golden Ki wrapped around Kaito's frame as he stood unmoved, letting the torrential waves of spiritual particles wash harmlessly past his skin.
The yield Gojo had extracted from that Hokyoku fragment surpassed Kaito's baseline expectations; this leap in power bridged an entire operational step.
This progress was largely thanks to Gojo's exceptional innate Vessel. If measured by the spiritual status framework of the Little Garden, Gojo's original standing had been remarkably high.
He was a singular existence birthed alongside the absolute definition of "The Strongest," disrupting cosmic balance the second he drew his first breath.
And now, catalyzed by Aizen's artifact, he had shed his mortal skin to forge a brand-new self.
The azure blade vanished, and the bone-white mask resting against Gojo's brow dissolved entirely. His flesh appeared cast in white soul-matter, his spiky white hair swept skyward, cascading down in elongated locks.
The lower half of his robes unraveled into shifting black smoke, resembling countless phantom arms reaching hungrily outward into the void.
Behind his back, the three white halos—two large, one small—radiated soft, eerie light. The Six Eyes detached from the links, drifting in an orbital pattern around Gojo's torso.
Suspended within this fractured, kaleidoscopic domain, he resembled an absolute monarch presiding over reality.
"Now then... show me what you've got, Satoru."
Kaito spoke calmly. Floating in mid-air, Gojo grinned broadly.
He leveled an open palm horizontally toward Kaito.
Hum~
Kaito remained motionless. Because Gojo was fundamentally his summoned entity, Kaito had granted him full administrative permission to unleash his power within these private quarters.
He felt the gravitational field around his boots instantly collapse. A singular spatial coordinate seemed to puncture, violently dragging the surrounding environment inward like a ravenous black hole.
Kaito did not budge an inch, yet the furnishings, scenic architecture, and white jade tables originally decorating the chamber were twisted and sucked into that singular point in an instant, condensing into a single blue-and-white glass marble.
In less than a microsecond, the full payload of that fingertip strike detonated. The material world vanished, leaving behind only the vacant, kaleidoscopic mirror-space.
Gojo's brows arched slightly. He hadn't anticipated his host remaining entirely unaffected by the gravitational collapse.
Altering his hand-seal, his fingertip flicked upward.
BOOM!
The condensed marble detonated. It was not merely the swallowed furniture erupting outward; local space, compressed gravitational vectors, and raw kinetic energy exploded in unison.
A devastating shockwave paired with spatial shears crashed violently against Kaito's skin.
Kaito still did not move. It was not because Gojo's strike lacked potency; on the contrary, the destructive yield had triggered the Space's internal protective wards.
The Space had actively neutralized the shockwaves to preserve the structural integrity of the private quarters.
Kaito parsed that although the underlying mechanics of these two maneuvers mirrored the Blue and Red of the Limitless, the foundational mass and destructive yield operated on an entirely separate dimensional tier.
Both the micro-singularity implosion and the subsequent kinetic inversion carried municipal-scale destructive yields.
If Gojo were unleashed in a standard theater, he could comfortably execute anything expected of a Fierce Step Reincarnator.
And because the foundational quality of his power was extraordinarily dense, ordinary Fierce Step combatants would struggle to mount a defense against these two arts.
Evidently, Gojo's evolutionary arsenal did not end there.
Kaito raised a hand and casually flicked a finger. As a summoned entity, Gojo enjoyed zero systemic immunity from the Space.
A twisted wave of compressed kinetic force boomed forward, its velocity far eclipsing artillery fire.
Yet Gojo did not move an inch.
BOOM!
An incandescent white shockwave detonated directly before Gojo's chest. He appeared to exist on an entirely separate layer of reality from the targeted coordinate space, suffering not a scratch.
Feeling the depth of his current foundation, Gojo finally felt he was grazing the lower rungs of his host's operational threshold once more.
Though he knew Kaito's authentic pinnacle state was an unstoppable avatar of violence unlocked through that unique transformation...
He still burned to test his limits.
"Hey, host... care to test my final technique~?"
Gojo was blind to the specific regulations of the Space, yet his instincts told him that certain arts could not be deployed within these private quarters.
Kaito nodded. Through the Primordial Dragon Eyes, he had already parsed the nature of Gojo's so-called final technique.
Even so, he chose to humor the spirit.
Gojo formed a complex hand seal. Countless Reishi particles ignited across the chamber, and every Six Eyes pupil orbiting his chassis flared with blinding brilliance.
"Terminal: Infinite Void Karma!"
Blinding radiance flooded the space, drowning all things in light...
Following an emergency summons from Jin Yue'an, Thread of Thought stepped into Mercenary Tao's private quarters, finding Lord Mercenary Tao standing in a completely vacant, empty hall, accompanied only by that irritating narrative spirit, Satoru Gojo.
The next second, an unfamiliar prickle ran down her spine. The look Gojo cast toward her carried a subtle, condescending detachment.
She furrowed her brow. While Gojo's Limitless was an exceptional technique, top-tier Reincarnators possessed countless operational methods to bypass it.
Setting aside how spatial abilities directly compromised the barrier, the native Jujutsu cosmos itself harbored artifacts capable of neutralizing the technique.
Whether the Inverted Spear of Heaven or the Black Rope, both specialized cursed tools commanded the authority to disrupt the Limitless.
So long as such assets existed in the meta, Reincarnators with sufficient resources could acquire and replicate their mechanics effortlessly.
She had assumed that after witnessing authentic apex Reincarnators under Lord Mercenary Tao's banner, Gojo would have outgrown the arrogant posturing from his source material. It appeared she was mistaken.
The man was entirely incurable.
Reading the shifts in the woman's micro-expressions, Gojo easily deduced her thoughts. Far from taking offense, he found her silent disdain thoroughly amusing.
Kaito offered no explanation, casually waving a hand to have the Space manifest an armchair, reviewing the updated trade ledgers provided by Black Butler and Tenkyo.
"Jin Yue'an requested that I mobilize to hunt down several Reincarnator units," Thread of Thought reported. "She claims numerous operatives have openly voiced disrespect toward you."
Thread of Thought harbored zero moral hesitation toward the assignment; assassinating Reincarnators had been her foundational livelihood, and this was merely returning to familiar ground.
Still, facing Kaito, she chose to report the matter for formal authorization.
Within other syndicates, an aloof leader of Mercenary Tao's temperament might easily suffer administrative usurpation, with executive subordinates forging their own agendas and speaking in his name.
Yet Thread of Thought knew such subversion was impossible within the Paradise. Mercenary Tao commanded a terrifying, absolute gravity; the moment he surfaced, he was the indisputable center of reality.
Kaito flicked an indifferent hand, signaling that she could proceed as she saw fit.
Among Reincarnators, vanishingly few warranted his attention, let alone cowards who only dared mutter grievances in the public plazas.
Likewise, he had no objection to Jin Yue'an's intent to slaughter them.
Whether those insects lived or died held zero significance to his path.
Gojo understood Kaito's psychological detachment intimately—it was the pure, uncompromising logic of a sovereign. Gojo nodded, leaning casually against the wall, his newly evolved Six Eyes tracking the Reishi in the air with razor precision.
The Reishi was unnaturally congregating around his host, pulled into his orbit like matter caught in the event horizon of a black hole.
In the past, relying solely on his native Six Eyes, Gojo had been blind to his host's true anomalies.
Yet his host's command over Reishi seemed noticeably less refined than his mastery over that golden Ki...
A quiet epiphany surfaced within Gojo's mind. Within the Sea of Consciousness, the entity known as Black Face had once challenged their host, only to be crushed under absolute violence, ultimately transforming into his most devout worshiper.
Black Face had perpetually addressed their host as... the Soul King.
Which meant their host inherently possessed soul-type foundations, yet had left those avenues largely undeveloped.
The power he openly wielded was merely the visible surface; the dormant, unseen forces were the true abyss.
Gojo tasted profound satisfaction in finally being able to measure his host's true depths.
"Your abilities haven't fully matured yet, have they, Satoru?"
Kaito spoke without lifting his eyes from the console. Gojo blinked, scratching his unruly hair with a sheepish nod.
He had indeed merely brute-forced a rudimentary framework around his newly unsealed powers; countless underlying nuances remained unmined.
"Hah~ Nothing escapes you, does it? Those eyes of yours are remarkably abnormal."
Gojo had already parsed that those eyes exerted an ambient, suppressing pressure over his Six Eyes.
Eyes that seemed capable of piercing through the structural fabric of all existence.
Kaito offered no elaboration. Catalyzed by the Hokyoku fragment into an Arrancar, Gojo had simply constructed a baseline toolset around his former Limitless architecture.
Thus, his three core techniques closely mirrored his mortal era, merely scaled to a far deadlier echelon.
In Bleach terminology, it was roughly equivalent to an incomplete Bankai.
Kaito could even see that Gojo's transformation was biologically unfinished.
A Resurrección was meant to return a Hollow to its true, primeval form. Right now, Gojo's state looked far more like a Soul Reaper's Bankai, maintaining an entirely human chassis.
"You are still not pure enough, Satoru."
Gojo's eyes flickered. Having gazed upon his true reflection within the Inner Mindscape, he rubbed the back of his neck, laughing with easy nonchalance:
"Hah... A trump card like that is always best saved to give the audience a proper surprise."