BOOM!!
A sudden gale exploded outward, howling and spiraling as a violent shockwave blasted open in front of Kisaragi Akira. Turbulent air whipped in all directions, scattering dust and debris across the dueling grounds.
Matsushita Takeo's heavy punch struck only empty air—and in that instant, the opening before his chest was completely exposed. Akira didn't hesitate. He lunged in, driving a straight punch directly into Takeo's broad torso.
There was no spiritual pressure burst behind it.No technique.Only the raw power of his spirit body—pure physical force born from his reconstructed soul.
The world of the Shinigami really is strange, Akira thought distantly.
In the Human World, when someone dies, their soul leaves the body and eventually drifts to the Soul Society. But that didn't mean the souls living here were intangible or ghostly. Far from it.
Soul Society was a world built from reishi—spiritual particles.When a person's soul arrived here, their body was reconstructed from those same particles.
Which meant this:
Whether noble or commoner… everyone here had a physical "spirit body."And the strength of that body—without relying on spiritual pressure—could be decisive in battle.
Takeo felt as if a charging rhinoceros had slammed straight into him.
The force behind Akira's fist wasn't inferior to his own monstrous strength—if anything, it exceeded it. His eyes bulged, bloodshot lines exploding across them as his heels dug into the dirt. Under the overwhelming push, the ground tore open beneath him, carving two deep trenches.
"Gah… damn, that's some punch!"
Takeo wiped the blood trickling from his lip and grabbed the front of his blue-and-white academy uniform—then tore it apart in a single motion. His massive torso burst into view, exuding the overwhelming pressure of a wild beast.
"But I'm a man who'll become a Captain someday!"
His roar thundered across the battlefield, shaking everyone to their core. The crowd murmured in awe at his sheer presence.
In contrast, Akira simply stared at his own fist with a blank expression—like a kid who'd punched someone for the first time and couldn't figure out what happened.
His indifference immediately enraged Takeo's friends.
"How dare he act smug!""That's Matsushita-senpai you punk!""Beat him down, Takeo!"
A hail of cheers, jeers, and curses rose, filling the air with restless tension.
Aizen Sōsuke—calm, composed, and unreadable—watched quietly through the Kido barrier. A faint glimmer of thought flickered in his eyes.
He didn't understand.
Why had Akira changed so dramatically after resonating with his Zanpakutō?It wasn't just a spike in spiritual pressure.Even his spirit body had become denser, his physical strength significantly greater than before.
What happened to him…?
It was clear Akira himself was trying to figure it out.
Unfortunately, with his limited common sense and rather hollow brain, he had no chance of understanding even his own transformation.
"Eh, forget it. Thinking makes my head hurt."
Akira dismissed the topic immediately.
He clapped his hands together, then waved Takeo forward with a cheerful grin.
"Alright, big guy. Let's keep going."
White steam puffed from Takeo's nostrils, thick and heavy. Spiritual pressure at the level of a full-fledged Shinigami swirled around him, amplifying his already monstrous physique.
He stomped the ground—and his huge frame launched forward like a fired cannonball, aimed straight at Akira.
His right arm bent, elbow raised as he executed a crushing overhead strike, the kind that felt like a mountain collapsing from above. The sheer force behind it was overwhelming—an attack he'd honed to perfection.
This is going to be his strongest blow yet, the spectators realized.
But Akira didn't meet it head-on this time.
The moment Takeo gathered power, Akira stepped back, knees bending.
And in the next instant—to everyone's disbelief—he leaped.
Akira soared upward, Takeo's brutal elbow crashing into the ground beneath him.
Takeo snapped his head up, eyes feral. With his massive reach and enormous explosive power, he could easily hit someone several meters above the ground.
But Akira wasn't giving him that chance.
The instant he rose into the air, his excited voice rang out:
"Take this—!"
"Crow Airplane!!"
Takeo's eyes widened. He didn't understand what Akira just yelled—but he did recognize that crushing sense of dread.
It was the same suffocating fear he'd felt when he faced a Hollow for the first time—that monstrous size, the thick stench of blood, that overwhelming hostility.
Instinctively, he crossed his arms over his chest to block the incoming attack.
A heartbeat later—
CRACK!!
BOOM!!
It sounded like a falling star smashing into earth. A violent blast tore through the arena. Winds howled upward as smoke and dust erupted like volcanic ash. The shockwave rippled outward, slamming against the Kido barrier.
Takeo's arms snapped instantly, bending at unnatural angles as his enormous frame was driven into the ground, carving out a massive crater.
When the dust finally settled—
Silence.
Absolute, stunned silence.
Shock, disbelief, confusion—Every face in the crowd twisted through the same emotions.
Aizen pressed a hand to his forehead and sighed softly, exasperation flickering in his eyes.
Things were… once again spiraling out of control.
"Anyone else?"
Akira stood amidst the settling debris, new strength coursing through him—surging, intoxicating, addictive. His confidence soared to unprecedented heights.
Everyone here… is total trash!
Meanwhile, atop a building on the northern side of the dueling grounds, two figures stood overlooking the scene—one tall, one short.
"He really is full of energy, isn't he?" said the bald elderly man. Long white beard cascading down his chest, pale eyelashes brushing his sunken cheekbones—his very presence radiated authority.
"That boy is the one who destroyed the First Division's dormitory, Kisaragi Akira?"The white-haired, gold-eyed gentleman beside him spoke respectfully.
"Yes, Head Captain."
"Kisaragi Akira hails from East Rukongai District 76—Gyaku-hone.He served as the shrine's officiating priest there."
The old man's gaze lowered, falling upon Akira's silhouette inside the dueling barrier. His half-closed eyes made his emotions unreadable.
"The Spiritual Arts Academy has prospered due to Yamashiro Chūya's efforts."
"Be it Matsushita Takeo or Kisaragi Akira…both will one day join the Thirteen Court Guard Squads.Both will defend Soul Society's justice."
"Geniuses… must be treated differently."
Chōjirō Sasakibe frowned slightly, puzzled.
Just as he was about to speak, the Head Captain continued:
"A greenhouse cannot raise real geniuses."
"Let them experience harshness early.It will only help them grow stronger."