"So strong…"
"What devastating power!"
"Even now, the shockwave from Ichimaru Gin's last strike is still rolling across the battlefield like a waterfall!"
"That's insane!"
Karakura Town, the living world.
Tessai Tsukabishi stood frozen, a bead of cold sweat running down his cheek.
He was completely stunned by the Bankai of Shinso.
At first glance, it still looked like a simple melee-type Zanpakutō—
its only feature being absurdly long reach.
But that alone… was terrifying.
On a battlefield like that,
Gin could attack anyone from miles away with a single thrust.
No one could predict or block it.
An unavoidable weapon.
Tessai even muttered to himself:
"If Ichimaru joined a demolition crew, they'd finish entire cities in one day."
He wasn't exaggerating.
With Shinso's Bankai cutting through everything in a wide arc,
no town—no matter how large—could withstand that level of destruction.
Buildings, people, entire districts… all erased.
That was the visceral power of Shinso.
A terrifying strength visible to the naked eye.
But beside him, Kisuke Urahara remained silent.
He didn't laugh, didn't even blink.
He stared at the screen, unblinking, from start to finish.
His eyes locked firmly on Gin's hands.
Moments later, Urahara finally spoke.
"Look closely—Gin's Zanpakutō, Shinso. It's already back to its original form!"
"It's short again—like a dagger!"
That caught both Yoruichi and Tessai's attention.
"Wait, when did it retract?!" Yoruichi frowned, her sharp eyes narrowing.
She hadn't seen him move at all.
Not even a flick of his wrist.
"Same here," Tessai admitted. "I didn't see a thing! Not even a blur!"
It was eerie.
Gin hadn't budged, yet the enormous blade spanning kilometers
had instantly shrunk back into its original short form.
Not even the blink of an eye.
That was what shook them most.
Meanwhile, in the First Division,
the captains had noticed the same thing.
"No…"
"We were all misled."
"It's not just about length— it's about speed! The speed of the blade's extension and retraction!"
Under his straw hat, Kyōraku Shunsui's expression hardened.
He'd seen it too.
If not for the camera deliberately zooming in on Gin's hands,
he might never have realized it in time.
"Tch… Long and fast. The range is limitless, the thrust speed beyond perception,"
Zaraki Kenpachi muttered, gripping his sword tighter.
"That bastard hides his power well."
Even Kenpachi, the self-proclaimed king of melee combat, admitted it—
Shinso's slashes were faster and deadlier than his own.
No warning, no defense.
"Terrifying… yet fitting," Jūshirō Ukitake said weakly, pale beneath his white hair.
"Gin's always been that way—charming, calm, but too dangerous to approach."
Komamura Sajin's voice rumbled beneath his helm:
"Then that boy Kurosaki Ichigo… he's doomed."
Not out of cruelty—just reason.
Facing such a Bankai, even a captain would struggle to defend,
let alone a human.
The prediction was right.
On-screen, Ichigo Kurosaki's expression grew grim.
He had realized how terrifying Shinso's Bankai truly was.
And Gin, with his trademark grin, made it worse.
"Listen closely, Kurosaki Ichigo."
"Five hundred times the speed of sound— that's the speed of Shinso's Bankai."
"Think you can dodge that, even now that you know?"
His smile was mocking, his tone dripping with amusement.
And as Ichigo froze in shock,
Gin's hand flicked.
A blinding surge of white light shot across the sky.
Every slash left skyscrapers collapsing in the distance.
Each cut tore the air like thunder.
Countless slashes.
Relentless.
The storm filled the screen—dust, debris, and destruction overflowing beyond view.
The viewers gasped aloud.
Even those just watching through the video felt as if they were under attack.
Ichigo struggled to block, his coat flaring like wings.
But the pressure was too much.
The blows came faster, closer, heavier.
Gin didn't even move—he stood still, one hand raised,
as if practicing target shooting.
It was one-sided.
Finally—
Ichigo was struck, blasted backward through walls and rubble.
Smoke swallowed him.
The camera lost him from view.
The battle was over.
"He lost…"
"He fought so hard…"
"But that Bankai—no one can stop it!"
Back in Karakura High,
Tatsuki, Chad, and Orihime all cried out in alarm.
Even knowing it was the future, the fear was real.
Could Ichigo have survived?
If even one of those strikes had pierced him—
his body would've been shredded to dust.
Ichigo himself rubbed his head, forcing a grin.
"I'm… still alive, right?"
He wasn't sure.
The scene had looked like certain death.
But then he thought of his father.
"If Dad was there too, I'm sure he didn't just stand by."
He relaxed slightly.
Still, the display left him shaken.
Even Orihime and Chad, watching beside him, felt cold sweat.
If Gin Ichimaru could do that,
and he was working under Aizen…
Then even the entire Gotei 13 might not stand a chance.
The screen faded to black again.
Silence.
Inside the First Division hall,
the captains turned as one—
to Kurotsuchi Mayuri.
The scientist's masked face tilted, eyes spinning behind his lenses.
After a long, deliberate pause,
he suddenly chuckled.
"Hehehe… After watching that, none of you have doubts?"
"What do you mean?" Shunsui asked.
"You've all been distracted," Mayuri said coldly.
"By the destruction, the spectacle. You're all looking at the wrong thing."
"And what are you implying?" Soi Fon folded her arms, unimpressed.
"The footage shows what it shows."
"Exactly," Kyōraku added. "You think the video's fake?"
"No."
Mayuri shook his head slowly, voice lowering to a rasp.
"Not the video. Ichimaru Gin himself."
"What about him?" Ukitake asked.
Mayuri's grin widened.
"His behavior. It's too strange."
The room went still.
"Strange?"
"In what sense?" several captains asked at once.
Mayuri raised both hands, laughing softly.
"You all think Gin's Bankai is unstoppable. But then tell me—"
He leaned forward, eyes glinting gold.
"If his power is truly that overwhelming…"
"Why did the battle end so quickly?"
"And why," he paused, voice sharp as a needle,
"does it look like he was holding back?"
The captains froze.
Even the usually expressionless Unohana's eyes flickered faintly.
The idea seemed absurd—yet coming from Mayuri,
it carried weight.
"Hehehe… You still don't get it, do you?" Mayuri said, almost gleefully.
"Ichimaru Gin's motives may not align with Aizen's at all."
He turned toward the darkened screen.
"My theory—" he continued, "is that Gin Ichimaru is pretending.
Playing the villain, waiting for a chance to strike Aizen down himself."
The hall erupted in murmurs.
"That's impossible."
"Gin? A hero? Don't joke."
"He's been Aizen's shadow for years!"
But Mayuri only smirked.
"He's been too quiet, too controlled. A man like him doesn't follow forever."
"He's gathering data. Waiting. Studying his target."
He looked at Urahara's image flickering faintly on the remote feed.
"Mark my words," Mayuri said, tone almost amused.
"Ichimaru Gin isn't just Aizen's dog."
"He's the knife Aizen won't see until it's in his heart."
(End of Chapter)
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