After the intense family dinner and a few more hours of "etiquette" lessons that felt like torture, Ichigo finally made it to his room.
The penthouse was massive, and his window offered a perfect view of the New York City skyline.
Millions of lights flickered below, a stark contrast to the quiet, spiritual hum of Karakura Town.
Ichigo didn't feel like sleeping. His body was buzzing with the new energies Stan Lee had gifted him, and his mind was still trying to map out this new world.
'I need to see what this place is really like,'
He thought.
He waited until the penthouse grew silent.
He could hear the heavy, rhythmic breathing of the guards in the hallway through his enhanced senses.
Using the Mystic Arts, he didn't even need to open the door. He simply focused on the space outside the balcony, visualized a shimmering orange gateway, and stepped through.
He landed silently on a rooftop three blocks away. His small body felt light, and the Adamantium in his bones made every landing feel solid and powerful.
Ichigo began to wander the streets of Manhattan.
It was his first time in America, and everything felt oversized.
The cars were bigger, the buildings were taller, and the air smelled like a mix of hot dogs and exhaust fumes.
As he walked, his spiritual vision—the Reimeiku—stayed active.
He wanted to see if the "monsters" of his old life were here.
He saw Pluses—the souls of people who hadn't passed on yet.
They were wandering near the street corners or sitting on park benches, looking lost.
But as he walked for an hour, he didn't see a single Hollow.
There was no white-masked monster lurking in the shadows, and he didn't feel the sharp, chilling pressure of a Shinigami Soul Reaper.
Instead, he saw something else.
Every few blocks, he spotted men in white suits or tactical gear standing on rooftops.
They moved with a military precision that Ichigo recognized instantly.
'Quincy,' he realized, crouching behind a water tank to stay out of sight.
'They aren't just a hidden family here. They're a police force.'
It was clear now. In this world, the Wandenreich had claimed America as their territory.
There were no Soul Reapers because Quincy had already "cleaned" the streets.
Any Hollow that showed its face was likely erased before it could even growl. It was a safer world, but a colder one.
Ichigo didn't like the feeling of being watched by his grandfather's soldiers.
He decided to head toward the areas where the white-suited patrols were thin.
He moved toward the older parts of the city, where the alleyways were narrow and the streetlights flickered with orange, dying light.
He reached a neighborhood that felt different.
It wasn't as polished as the areas near Wandenreich Tower.
Here, the spiritual energy felt more "human" and messy.
Suddenly, his ears picked up a scuffle.
"Just give us the bag, kid! Don't make this hard!"
A raspy voice shouted from a nearby alley.
Ichigo moved to the edge of the roof and looked down.
A young man with glasses was being cornered by two thugs with switchblades.
The young man looked terrified, clutching his backpack like it held his life's work.
Ichigo was about to jump down and use a simple Mystic shield to scare them off, but something stopped him.
A blur of red and blue shot across his field of vision.
Thwip!
A sticky, white substance slammed into the hand of one thug, pinning his knife-hand to the brick wall.
"You know, the city has a great lost-and-found department,"
A voice chirped.
"You don't have to take things that don't belong to you. It's very bad for your karma."
Ichigo watched, fascinated. A man in a red-and-blue spandex suit—one with a distinct web pattern and large, white eye-lenses—dropped from the ceiling of the alley.
He moved like an insect, landing on the wall and sticking to it effortlessly.
"What the heck is that?"
Ichigo whispered.
The man in the suit moved with incredible speed. He didn't use spiritual energy; it was pure, raw physical power and reflexes.
He dodged a punch as if he knew it was coming before the thug even moved.
With a few more thwips, both thugs were webbed up against the wall, looking like giant cocoons.
"You okay, buddy?"
The hero asked the boy with glasses.
"Y-yeah! Thanks, Spider-Man!"
The boy yelled, running away.
The hero sighed and reached into a pouch on his belt.
He pulled out a small, old-fashioned camera.
He looked around, found a high pipe, and webbed the camera to it.
Then, he jumped back into the center of the alley, struck a "cool" pose with his muscles flexed, and waited for the timer to click.
Flash!
"Great,"
The man muttered, his voice sounding a bit older and tired.
"JJJ might actually pay me for this one."
Ichigo tilted his head.
'Spider-Man? And he takes his own pictures to sell them? That's kind of pathetic... but also interesting.'
Ichigo decided to follow him. With his Magnetism powers, Ichigo could feel the metal in the hero's camera and the zippers on his suit.
He stayed far back, using the Mystic Arts to mask his presence so the "spider-sense" wouldn't trigger.
The hero didn't go to a secret base or a high-tech tower.
He swung across the city, eventually landing in a quiet, residential part of Queens.
He crawled through a window of a modest, slightly run-down house.
Ichigo perched on a tree branch outside, looking through the glass.
Inside, the man pulled off his mask. He had brown hair, kind eyes, and a look of constant worry on his face.
He looked to be in his early twenties—much older than Ichigo.
"Peter? Is that you?"
An elderly woman's voice called from downstairs.
"Yeah, Aunt May! Just getting some studying done!"
The man, Peter Parker, shouted back.
He slumped into a chair, looking at a photo on his desk of an older man with a gentle smile.
Ichigo's enhanced vision caught the name on a nearby envelope: Peter Parker.
Ichigo watched as Peter started sewing a tear in his red suit.
He looked exhausted, but there was a sense of duty in his movements that Ichigo respected.
It reminded him of his own life back in Japan—balancing school, family, and the weight of being a protector.
'So that's one of the "interesting" things,'
Ichigo thought.
'A guy who fights crime for free and can't even pay his rent. He's a hero, but he's totally human.'
Ichigo felt a surge of warmth. In his old life, the only "heroes" were soldiers or monsters.
Here, there were people who put on masks just because it was the right thing to do.
"Peter Parker,"
Ichigo whispered, memorizing the face.
"I think we might run into each other again."
Ichigo turned away and opened another portal back to his bedroom.
He had seen enough for one night. America wasn't just the land of Quincy; it was a land of hidden legends.
As he climbed back into his bed, he felt a bit less lonely.
His friends might be gone or different, but this new world had plenty of souls worth protecting.
'Grandpa wants me to be a King,'
Ichigo thought as he closed his eyes.
'But maybe I'll take some advice from the spider instead. Maybe I'll just be a neighbor.'