"What happened?!"
"Yamamoto... Yamamoto Genryūsai has disappeared?"
"Isn't the floor of the assembly hall made of Sekki-seki? How could it—"
The sudden turn of events threw the assembly hall into chaos. The voices that had been so strong and authoritative only moments ago were now trembling.
In many cases, the high and mighty members of Central 46 didn't particularly like Yamamoto, but there was no denying that he was the most honest and dutiful of them all.
Unlike those nobles who harbored hidden agendas and practiced passive resistance, Yamamoto almost never participated in major policy-making. He simply waited for Central 46 to issue a secret order and then executed it personally with unwavering resolve.
Thus, in the eyes of most nobles, Yamamoto was a peerless, sharp, and useful blade—an unwavering defender of the status and authority of Central 46 and the aristocracy.
However, a select few understood a deeper truth.
The stability of the current order in the Soul Society relied heavily on Yamamoto's sheer martial might.
And now, the man who was supposed to be the strongest Soul Reaper in a millennium had vanished abruptly right before their eyes.
'Had the enemy already infiltrated the very heart of the Soul Society?'
At this thought, many Sages grew deeply anxious. They leaned back in their seats, exchanging glances to gauge the situation.
Behind the first seat, an old man named Asano let out a slow, long breath. Seeing Yamamoto disappear, his tense nerves finally relaxed.
As the most loyal follower of the Tsunayashiro family, he was also the chief inquisitor of Central 46.
Only two days ago, he had received orders from Tsunayashiro Taketori.
He was to convene an emergency meeting and use it to relentlessly attack the Kuchiki family, drawing everyone's focus and attention. This was to create a diversion for the subsequent plan.
Although he didn't know the specifics of the plan, attacking others was his specialty as a member of Central 46. It was an instinct carved into his very bones. He didn't even need to prepare. He only had to review recent events in his mind to draft dozens or even hundreds of charges against the Kuchiki family.
He had done similar things more than once.
Consequently, Asano had been a silver-tongued devil during the meeting, his words flying like spit as he laid out the Kuchiki family's "crimes," effectively setting the tone for the assembly.
The Kuchiki family's vassals, naturally unwilling to back down, had immediately launched a counter-offensive. Soon, the attention of everyone in the hall was consumed by the shouting match.
However, Asano hadn't expected Taketori to play such a dangerous game this time.
Taketori had actually tampered with the Sekki-seki floor of the hall, activating a pre-prepared trap the moment Yamamoto's attention was fully focused on the debate.
Although he didn't know where Yamamoto had been teleported, Asano knew full well that the Head Captain of the Gotei 13 wouldn't die so easily. For now, he could only pray that Taketori's plan would succeed.
Otherwise, when Yamamoto returned, this entire group would likely be liquidated together.
Unlike the others, Asano knew exactly how terrifying Yamamoto could be. If anyone truly thought of that old man as a simple, handy tool, they were delusional. Forget a thousand years ago—even just a few centuries back, Yamamoto was known throughout the Soul Society as the "Sword Demon."
Back then, Yamamoto would use any means necessary to protect the Soul Society. To put it bluntly, whether he acted as a tool for Central 46 depended entirely on his own will. If someone truly crossed that line, the demon that nearly destroyed the Soul Society back then might just return.
Forget Central 46—even if all the nobles combined their strength, they might not be enough for him to slaughter alone.
At the thought of such an apocalyptic scene, Asano couldn't help but shiver. A bone-chilling cold raced up his spine to the top of his head.
'No, I can't keep waiting here. I have to see how the situation is developing.'
If the tide truly turned, it was best to pick a side early. At a critical moment, switching allegiance to another of the Five Great Noble Families wouldn't be an unwise choice.
Thinking this, Asano suddenly stood up from his seat. Just as he was about to speak, a voice suddenly echoed from outside the main doors.
"Sorry, everyone, but until Old Man Yama returns, you're not going anywhere."
At the sound of that voice, the noisy arguments came to a grinding halt. Everyone looked up toward the source.
The massive doors of the assembly hall slowly creaked open.
A pink, flowery patterned haori appeared in their line of sight. His expression was calm, and his eyes were slightly lowered. He didn't project any overwhelming aura, yet his mere presence instantly silenced the room.
The Sages' eyes flickered as they processed this.
Finally, a Sage stood up from his seat, feigning composure as he shouted, "Kyōraku Shunsui! Why are you here?"
As soon as he spoke, the others seemed to find their courage. They tossed aside the fear from Yamamoto's disappearance and began to mock him.
"The assembly hall is a restricted area for Central 46 meetings! Private entry is strictly forbidden!"
"A mere Captain... are you planning to commit insubordination?"
"Imprisoning our freedom? Are you intending to start a rebellion?!"
"I suspect you have a significant connection to the previous incident!"
"Kyōraku—urgh!!"
Amidst the rebukes, Kyōraku Shunsui looked up and gazed calmly at the crowd.
In an instant.
A soul-piercing chill swept through the assembly hall. His cold gaze felt like sharp knives stabbing directly into everyone's hearts.
The noise stopped instantly. A flicker of terror passed through the eyes of the crowd.
Only now did the nobles realize that the man standing before them was not the Yamamoto Genryūsai they were used to—the one who usually let them shout as they pleased. Instead, it was the Captain of the 8th Squad, Kyōraku Shunsui, a man whose depths were unknown and who rarely appeared before Central 46!
Without Yamamoto there to restrain him, this low-profile Captain seemed to be baring his fangs for the first time. Although he hadn't released his spiritual pressure or any killing intent, that look—an expression that treated them as if they were already dead—was enough to terrify anyone.
No one could guarantee that Kyōraku wouldn't suddenly make a move.
"Just a moment ago, a horrific attack occurred at the 13th Squad barracks."
"The victims were Captain Ukitake Jūshirō and Naraku Sora, the third seat of the Shino Prison. The attacker was the head of the Five Great Noble Families, Tsunayashiro Taketori."
"I suspect Old Man Yama's disappearance is related to this."
Behind the first seat, Asano's heart skipped a beat. The cold slowly began to consume his heart.
"To prevent any further escalation, I am personally taking over the underground assembly hall."
Kyōraku's voice echoed in the cavernous space.
"If you have any objections, you can take them up with Old Man Yama when he returns."
There was a suppressed fury in his voice.
If he hadn't considered that the situation wasn't yet beyond saving, Kyōraku might have dragged this group of fools into the depths of Dangyofuchi to "enjoy" themselves.
He had been handling affairs in his own barracks. The chain of events following the Zanpakutō rebellion meant he had no time to slack off, let alone sneak a few drinks.
However, just as his work was nearing completion...
A spiritual pressure so powerful it was suffocating had suddenly erupted from the direction of the 13th Squad. Without a moment's hesitation, Kyōraku had rushed toward it.
When he arrived, he found nothing but a complete mess.
Ukitake Jūshirō was leaning against a ruined wall, coughing up large amounts of blood, while Kotsubaki Sentarō lay nearby, his life or death uncertain. The situation was grave.
Upon seeing Kyōraku, Ukitake had ignored his illness and shouted a brief summary of what had happened.
When he learned that Taketori had done all this just to seize the Soul King's Right Hand within Ukitake's body, Kyōraku was uncharacteristically enraged. He was one of the few who knew of Mimihagi's existence. He also knew that Mimihagi was the only reason his best friend was still alive.
Seizing the Soul King's Right Hand was no different from murdering Ukitake Jūshirō!
Taketori's actions had undoubtedly struck Kyōraku's most sensitive nerve.
Years ago, his elder brother had died young, and his sister-in-law, Ise Nanao's mother, had been executed for losing the family's ritual sword. Since then, the only precious people he had left were the ones he had met during his academy days: Yamamoto Genryūsai and Ukitake Jūshirō.
And now, in the blink of an eye.
Yamamoto was missing, and Ukitake was severely injured.
The fact that he hadn't immediately slaughtered the Tsunayashiro family was a testament to his restraint for the sake of the bigger picture.
Kyōraku narrowed his eyes slightly, looking toward the Rukongai.
'Speaking of which, that junior disciple seems to have played a major role in this incident.'
'I hope the boy is okay...'
In the Rukongai.
Beside the pitch-black "sludge," Naraku Sora watched with a look of disgust as Aizen crouched on the ground, collecting experimental samples.
As if sensing Sora's thoughts, Aizen explained patiently, "Based on the information you provided, the reason Taketori became like this is largely due to the Soul King fragments he collected."
"But from my observations, there is another power at work here."
"Combined with the intelligence we gathered before, there is a ninety percent probability that it is the breath of Hell."
"Therefore, a bizarre existence that fuses two distinct powers plus Taketori's own nature is of extremely high research value."
"It might even exceed that of Arturo or yourself."
Sora: "?"
He felt a strong wave of malice from Aizen's words. He made a mental note to settle this debt later.
"By the way, there's one more thing you should pay attention to."
Aizen suddenly looked up. The light reflected off his glasses, giving them a strange glow that hid any change in his expression.
"What is it?"
"Under normal circumstances, an eruption of spiritual pressure of this scale within the Seireitei would have surely drawn the attention of Head Captain Yamamoto. But on my way here, I sensed the surroundings carefully—"
"Head Captain Yamamoto's spiritual pressure seems to have vanished from the Seireitei."
Sora's mouth curled into a grin, as if he had just thought of something very pleasant.
Aizen glanced at him, seeing right through his ugly expression. "I'm inclined to believe Taketori used some method to seal him away or teleport him somewhere."
"If he could actually kill the Head Captain, he wouldn't have needed to go through all this trouble."
Hearing this, Sora's eyes lit up. "So you're saying... no one's watching me right now?"
Aizen nodded. "With Head Captain Yamamoto gone, the things you wanted to do but couldn't can now be done without restraint."
"As for the other Captains of the Gotei 13, with a few exceptions, I doubt they will have any objections."
Sora let out a savage grin. "Then I understand. The end is coming for the Tsunayashiro family!"
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