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Chapter 267 B
🕑 Added 2025-02-22 16:03:01 +0000 UTCChapter 267
2-in-1 chapter
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“Report! An abnormal Reiatsu has been detected in East Rukongai, District 48!”
“Reiatsu level 7, waveform…blue!”
“It’s a Hollow!”
“The patrol squad has already arrived on-site! The 9th Seat of the 10th Division, Yamagishi Aitsuki, is leading the extermination!”
“Report! The extermination failed, three Shinigami are seriously injured, and 9th Seat Yamagishi has been forced to retreat!”
In the Disaster Monitoring Department of the 12th Division, voices rang out in rapid succession.
Hearing the reports, a seated officer present wore a grim expression.
Reiatsu level 7—this was no ordinary Hollow. Sending random reinforcements would likely lead to a second massacre. Frowning, he barked loudly:
“Check! Which patrol squad is closest to that location? They must have at least a high-ranking officer in charge!”
Several Shinigami manning the terminals typed quickly. Ten seconds later, one shouted:
“Report! It’s the 11th Division, led by the 8th Seat—Ichimaru Gin! They’re stationed in District 46, the closest to the site!”
Ichimaru Gin…
Hearing that name, the officer felt an instant headache. He’d heard of Gin, a so-called “genius” from Shin’ō Academy who graduated early with perfect marks in less than a year, then ignored invitations from other divisions to join the 11th.
Under normal circumstances, such a prodigy deserved respect. But in an emergency like this, a young genius might prove unreliable. Many talented cadets had excelled in training and tests, only to freeze the moment they confronted a real Hollow.
To prevent that, Shin’ō Academy usually arranged simulated combat for students in their fifth or sixth year—capturing Hollows for them to practice on. Even so, plenty of graduates still panicked and died in real battles. Someone like Ichimaru Gin, who graduated in under a year, probably never even took part in those simulations. Who knew if he’d just wet himself in front of the Hollow?
Plus, if the 9th Seat of the 10th Division had already lost, what good was an 8th Seat from the 11th?
After a few seconds of deliberation, the officer opened his mouth, intending to ignore Ichimaru Gin and call for someone else—only to be cut off by a subordinate:
“Report! Ichimaru Gin’s patrol squad is already en route to the scene!”
“What?”
The officer’s eyes widened. Ichimaru Gin was in District 46—how had he detected something in District 48 so quickly?
“Tell all nearby squads to head there for support!” he ordered. “And notify the 4th Division to prepare for heavy casualties!”
In an instant, the department buzzed with activity.
…
“Roooaaaar!!”
A massive, beast-like Hollow roared shrilly, sending weaker souls sprawling in fear, their legs giving out under the crushing spiritual pressure. Sensing prey nearby, the creature sniffed the air, then gnashed its pale teeth and crawled toward one of the fallen spirits.
Such incursions into the Soul Society happened frequently. Unlike the orderly Seireitei, Rukongai’s spatial fabric was less stable, allowing some Hollows wandering Hueco Mundo to slip through the Dangai and pop out in the districts. Typically, the further toward the outskirts one lived, the more common these attacks became. To have it happen here, around the 40s, was unusual, so the residents had no idea how to hide or flee.
Watching the Hollow creep up, a terrified woman turned deathly pale and shrieked, “No—aaaah!!” She raised an arm, covering her face with her sleeve in despair.
Nearby, 9th Seat Yamagishi Aitsuki of the 10th Division lay on the ground, glaring in fury. He desperately tried to stand, but a gaping wound slashed across his waist. Straining himself only made loops of intestine start sliding out.
“Rrraaagh!!”
The Hollow opened its jaws wide, about to devour her, when suddenly—
“Shoot to kill—Shinso.”
A silvery flash streaked through the air, piercing the Hollow’s head in a single thrust.
“?!”
Yamagishi Aitsuki turned in shock, searching for that flash’s origin. He found a silver-haired boy at some distance, arm outstretched, gripping a Zanpakutō. The gleaming projectile that skewered the Hollow had extended straight from the hilt of his blade.
It was only after the silver glow vanished that Aitsuki realized it was the boy’s sword itself, elongated to strike from tens of meters away—a sure sign of Zanpakutō release!
Hand on the hilt, the boy smiled faintly. With a soft pull, the blade shrank back to the size of a short wakizashi. The Hollow disintegrated into black ash, dispersing into the wind.
After sheathing his Zanpakutō, Ichimaru Gin strolled over.
“You all right?”
He smiled at the terrified woman. She stared blankly for a moment, then hurriedly nodded.
“Th-thank you…! Thank you so much!”
Gin shook his head lightly.
“No, don’t thank me.”
He spoke gently but with no hint of joking:
“If you want to thank someone, thank my Captain—Kaelith. Without my Captain, I wouldn’t have become a Shinigami. Wouldn’t have had this power. It’s only because of my Captain that you were saved. So please, take a moment to give proper thanks to Captain Kaelith.”
Seeing how serious he was, the woman nodded along.
“Th-thank you, Captain Kaelith!”
Satisfied, Gin turned toward 9th Seat Yamagishi, who was struggling on the ground.
“Wow… that’s a nasty injury.”
He crouched, examining the gash at Yamagishi’s waist. The man grimaced. “Appreciate it… You’re from the 11th Division? That technique just now was incredible!”
“Mm,” Gin replied. “I’m Ichimaru Gin, 8th Seat of the 11th Division. A pleasure.”
The… Eighth Seat?
Hearing that, Yamagishi froze, forgetting the pain in his shock. Such a powerful display—releasing his Zanpakutō and dispatching that fierce Hollow in a single blow—would easily place him among the upper seats or even vice-captain rank. Yet he was only 8th Seat?
What on earth was going on in the 11th Division?
He recalled rumors about their captain, Kaelith: some said the man was a weirdo, personally strong but a poor manager, even needing help from a former colleague at the 2nd Division and from the 5th Division’s lieutenant. Until now, Yamagishi had thought those tales sounded wild.
Maybe they were true after all…
While he wrestled with those thoughts, Gin spoke again:
“Yamagishi 9th Seat, don’t get the wrong idea. My Captain doesn’t just throw ranks around. He always has his reasons. As for strength, the more senior folks back in my squad are on par with me. Captain Kaelith’s decisions are never mistaken—keep that in mind.”
The sudden pressure in Gin’s voice made Yamagishi swallow hard. Good grief, was this kid reading his mind? Frightening…
Before long, a healing team from the 4th Division arrived. Their leader started tending to the wounded 10th Division Shinigami immediately. One of the lightly injured men, worried for Gin’s group, asked, “Could you also check on the 11th Division? They fought too, right?”
In response, the 4th Division members just chuckled.
“Relax. With an officer in the 11th Division present, they don’t get hurt.”
…
Indeed, that statement was spot-on. For the last few years, any Hollow incident that included a seated officer from the 11th Division ended in easy resolution. Problems that once required multiple seats—and risked casualties—were as trivial as eating or drinking to them. Gradually, a rumor circulated within the Gotei 13:
*“All 11th Division seated officers are at vice-captain level!”*
It sounded ridiculous, but with all the eyewitness accounts, many found it plausible. Over time, an even more extreme claim arose: that 11th Division’s upper seats were aiming for Bankai, and some may have already achieved it. Captain Kaelith was said to be planning a grand betrayal, ready to raise the banner against his own teacher as soon as his men all reached Bankai. Then blood would run in rivers, and the Seireitei would be turned upside down.
---
“Is there any truth to this?”
In the 1st Division’s training hall, Yamamoto stood stripped to the waist, staring at his rebellious student. Kaelith likewise stood shirtless nearby, having tossed his Haori aside. At first, Yamamoto had punished him for such disrespect, but after so many sparring sessions, he’d grown used to it.
There was even a time the old man nearly did the same, discarding his own Haori, only to catch himself and beat Kaelith in embarrassment.
Hearing the question, Kaelith was outraged:
“Lies—pure slander! Sensei, you know what shape the 11th Division was in before I got there. We hardly had any functional seats, let alone strong ones! Some of the lower seats couldn’t even reach 10th-class Reiatsu level!
With a squad that poor, what could I really do? If you ask me, we’re still miserable…my own vice-captain can’t even use Shikai—imagine that, a vice-captain with no release! Doesn’t that prove how lowly we are? Instead of pitching in, the other squads just slander me! When will the 11th Division ever stand tall? I’m furious!”
Kaelith layed on the ground, muscles bulging, yet pretended to sob in frustration. Yamamoto felt a spike of blood pressure.
He didn’t know the exact condition of the 11th Division but had a general sense. As far-fetched as “all seated officers at vice-captain level” might sound, it wasn’t far from the truth.
He’d even thought of asking Kaelith to distribute some of his powerful subordinates to other squads. But seeing his pupil’s over-the-top dramatics, Yamamoto sighed.
Hard to bring it up now…
On second thought, the kid had a point. Back when Yamamoto tossed him into the 11th, it was both to find him a job and because nobody there was worth promoting. From the vice-captain downward, they were all duds.
The 11th was at rock bottom.
Kaelith had scraped it together to what it was today; it would be awful for Yamamoto to undermine that effort by poaching people.
Relieved yet a bit disgruntled, the old man cracked his neck with loud pops.
“No more nonsense, brat. Stand up and train. Let’s see if you’ve neglected your own growth while busy with the division’s affairs. If I’m not satisfied, it’s ten years under the waterfall for you!”
“Er… what exactly would ‘satisfied’ entail?” Kaelith asked cautiously.
Yamamoto smirked, arching an eyebrow. As if the brat planned to tailor his strength to the old man’s demands. Who gave him such confidence—his so-called Kaelith Clothing Workshop?
With half his face in shadow, Yamamoto grinned like a bloodthirsty beast.
“Since you asked, show me your full power. Whether I’m satisfied or not is up to me. Of course, if you can beat me outright, I’ll be permanently satisfied.”
Kaelith considered, then nodded firmly.
“All right, I’ll try.”
Oh? Yamamoto’s grin spread wider.
*He actually thinks he can do it…*
His fists tingled in anticipation. He couldn’t wait to thrash this uppity student.
With a simple signal, they both sprang into action. After a brief exchange of testing blows, Yamamoto gave a subtle nod.
Not bad—Kaelith’s Reiatsu had grown significantly, likely because he was aging into his prime. At this rate, he’d surpass Kyōraku and Ukitake in due time. The old man felt both proud and irked.
A bit more skill polish wouldn’t hurt, though. For now, Kaelith was still using the same techniques Yamamoto had taught him, plus that Zanpakutō-based special ability.
**If he ever develops his own methods,** Yamamoto mused, **maybe I can finally enjoy my twilight years…**
He was mulling that when a sudden chill prickled the back of his mind. Kaelith’s aura felt strangely menacing, more than usual.
**Dual-impact?** he wondered. **No… This sense of danger is far beyond that!**
Focusing on Kaelith, he noticed the man’s clenched fist—it wasn’t in its usual posture. Something peculiar was occurring around his knuckles, an unusual rhythm.
**Could it be…?**
Yamamoto’s eyes lit up, excitement stirring. With a crunch of muscle, he swelled his frame, releasing a surging pressure.
“All right, brat, bring it on!”
