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The ranking continued.
In the video, Aikawa Love and Ōtoribashi Rōjūrō stood side by side, both of them staring straight ahead. Their gaze was fixed on another figure—a middle-aged man hovering opposite them.
Messy, loosely curled hair framed a long, dark-gray fur coat that covered his entire body. A black eyepatch rested over his left eye. In each hand, he held a sleek, futuristic-looking pistol.
That's right.
Floating in midair, facing off against the two Visored captains, was the Primera Espada who had already released his Resurrección—
The Wolf King, Starrk.
—
Hueco Mundo, Las Noches.
"That's… Starrk?!"
At the sight of him holding twin guns, radiating sheer presence, the once-silent palace erupted in shocked voices.
"Huh… even Starrk used Resurrección? That's rare," Szayelaporro murmured, clearly surprised.
He knew Starrk's personality better than most.
On paper, Starrk was the First Espada. In reality, he couldn't have been less interested in acting like it.
Unlike Barragan's oppressive dominance.
Unlike Ulquiorra's cold decisiveness.
Starrk was always lazy, hated trouble, hated fighting even more. If he could lie down, he'd never bother standing up.
Even now, as he looked up at the translucent screen, Starrk was propping his head up with one hand, slouched casually against a pillar. There wasn't the slightest hint of a top-tier warrior about him.
That alone showed how little he cared about winning or losing.
Which made it even stranger—he shouldn't be the type to release his Resurrección so easily.
"Did those two force him into it?" Harribel narrowed her eyes, studying the two Visored captains with caution. "And who are they? Are they allies of the Soul Reapers?"
She noticed it immediately.
The battlefield in the video was the same place where she'd fought Hitsugaya.
"Same battlefield… different fight?"
A faint sense of unease crept into her chest.
Not far away, the man in question reacted when the camera finally settled on him.
Starrk slowly stood up, stretched lazily, and smiled in satisfaction.
"Alright… guess waiting this long wasn't a waste after all. So it's finally my turn to put on a show, huh?"
As he spoke, his expression sharpened.
A powerful aura—nothing like his usual laid-back self—burst from his body, making the icy floor beneath him rumble.
Starrk knew perfectly well that the real focus of this ranking was Kyōraku Shunsui.
But still…
He was confident.
Confident that he wouldn't disappoint Lord Aizen.
Confident that he wouldn't disgrace the title of First Espada.
"So…"
"I'll be the one to help the Arrancar get their pride back."
As his words faded, the video resumed.
—
Sure enough, things unfolded exactly as Starrk had predicted.
"Awoooo—!!"
"Awoooo—!!"
"Awoooo—!!"
The howls of wild wolves echoed across the sky.
Then came wave after wave of deep-blue flashes, explosive bursts of light—
And two figures, barely conscious, fell from the smoke of the explosions.
"Give it up, Soul Reapers. Once the wolves have locked onto you, there's nowhere left to run."
His white wolf-fur coat snapped in the wind as Starrk descended from the sky, calmly declaring his victory.
And it was true.
After a fierce exchange, using his Infinite Cero and Soul Division, Starrk completely suppressed the two Visored captains.
The overwhelming strength of a Vasto Lorde was on full display.
—
Las Noches.
"So strong! That's the First Espada for you!"
"Even Visored captains working together don't stand a chance!"
"The Arrancar are the strongest! The Espada are the strongest!"
Cheers rang out.
Starrk's overwhelming performance sent morale soaring through the Arrancar ranks. The gloom from earlier vanished, replaced by rising confidence.
"Hmph… it seems I worried for nothing," Barragan said, lowering his gaze. "The Soul Reapers aren't nearly as formidable as I thought. Just a false alarm."
Arrogance gathered once more in his clouded eyes.
As the former king of Hueco Mundo, he didn't believe himself inferior to Starrk.
If Starrk could defeat multiple captains at once, then so could he.
Nearby, Grimmjow and Ulquiorra also fell silent, deep in thought, their confidence slowly returning.
After all, neither of them had appeared in the video yet. No one could say they'd remain stagnant in the future.
—
Elsewhere.
At the Visored hideout.
"Damn it! This is embarrassing as hell!"
"Aikawa Love! Ōtoribashi Rōjūrō! Don't you dare say you're Visored when you're out there! I don't know you useless idiots!"
Hands on her hips, Hiyori Sarugaki screamed at the screen.
She was so pissed at those two deadweight teammates that she even hurled her sandal across the room.
What the hell was that?!
They'd finally gotten a chance to show off the Visored…
And this was it?
Sure, the opponent was the First Espada—
But did they really have to lose that badly?
Infuriating!
Beside her, Hirako Shinji scratched his cheek, equally speechless.
"Man… I was hoping this video would help us win back some face, show the Gotei 13 how much we've changed. Instead… we just humiliated ourselves."
"Yeah…" Kensei muttered, about to add something—
When suddenly—
"Wait! Look—he got stabbed!"
Kensei pointed at the screen in shock.
"What?!"
Everyone snapped their attention back to the projection.
At the exact moment Starrk touched the ground, a pitch-black Zanpakutō shot out from his shadow reflected on the floor.
Clang—!
The black blade thrust forward, piercing straight through Starrk's chest in a flash.
The entire sequence took less than three seconds.
No one saw it coming.
—
Las Noches.
"…?!"
"What just happened? Starrk got ambushed?!"
"He was stabbed through the chest—that's fatal!"
"Damn it! Who did this?!"
Confusion gave way to fear.
Fear turned into rage.
The confidence the Arrancar had just regained collapsed instantly, plunging straight back to rock bottom.
Emotional whiplash.
Like doing endless sit-ups—up, down, up, down—until everyone was furious and humiliated.
"Oh no… Starrk… you look really bad!" Lilynette cried, her voice trembling.
On screen, Starrk's eyes went blank.
A hole gaped in his chest, and he suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood.
His wolf-fur coat was stained red, his presence collapsing, the contrast with his earlier dominance painfully obvious.
"I… got ambushed?" Sweat slid down his cheek. "Who the hell—?!"
As if responding to his thoughts, the video shifted.
The black shadow-blade slowly withdrew, and from the puddle-like darkness on the ground, a figure emerged.
Kyōraku Shunsui.
The shadows peeled away like ink dissolving in water.
Kyōraku stood there, twin swords in hand, meeting Starrk's gaze. Blood still clung to the tip of Katen Kyōkotsu, fresh from Starrk's body.
"Yeah, Espada…"
Kyōraku raised his blade, the blood-slicked tip pointing straight at Starrk's head.
"Looks like you were so busy fighting those two Visored captains that you forgot I was still around, huh?"
His voice rang out, bright and clear.
"So I figured I'd make sure you remember. To keep you from spacing out again in the middle of a fight, I'll introduce myself one more time…"
"Remember it well."
"I'm the current captain of the Eighth Division—"
"Kyōraku Shunsui."
"..."
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