Looking at the people locked in the prison, Naraku Sora let out a long breath, his tightly furrowed brows slowly relaxing.
His previous guess was correct.
When the Reiatsu gains accumulated to a certain level, he clearly sensed a subtle, unknown reaction occurring within his spiritual body and soul.
But it seemed he was still just a little bit away from a true metamorphosis.
Who should he look for next?
Naraku Sora stroked his chin, searching his mind for figures who could provide a massive amount of gains.
Just then, a figure walked into the prison.
"Sora, pack up a bit, Hueco Mundo needs..."
Just as he was about to say something, Aizen suddenly noticed someone's eyes lighting up.
It was like a starving husky seeing a lavish feast, giving him an involuntary, spine-tingling chill.
"Sōsuke, you're my best friend, right?" Naraku Sora suddenly asked.
Aizen furrowed his brows, the ominous premonition in his heart growing stronger.
His intuition told him that if he actually entertained this conversation, something very bad was likely to happen.
"No."
Aizen calmly rejected Naraku Sora's invitation of friendship, nipping the danger in the bud.
"Pfft—"
An untimely burst of laughter echoed within the prison.
Although Urahara Kisuke instantly realized his mistake and immediately held it in, Naraku Sora still slowly turned his head to look at him.
Seeing the dangerous glint suddenly flash in someone's eyes, Urahara Kisuke didn't say a word, simply turning his head and running.
This was a reaction born purely out of instinct.
However, before he could even touch the doorknob, a strong, powerful arm firmly locked around his neck.
"Wait, Lord Naraku, I've bled for the Shino Prison, I've made great contributions to the Department of Research and Development!"
Urahara Kisuke hastily tried to make amends, attempting to awaken the meager amount of conscience left in someone's heart through begging.
But the humiliated and enraged Naraku Sora didn't listen at all, backhanding him into a tight guillotine choke.
Soon, agonizing screams echoed throughout the entire prison.
After beating Urahara Kisuke to a pulp, Naraku Sora bluntly asked if he had any intention of undergoing Hollowfication.
"Lord Naraku, Hollowfication doesn't suit me."
The bruised and battered Kisuke answered very decisively, "What Lord Aizen and I pursue are different things."
"Strength is only an insignificant part of life."
"Researching the unknown, satisfying curiosity, and slacking off—those are my true pursuits."
Naraku Sora nodded, not making things difficult for Urahara Kisuke on this matter.
Their usual petty squabbles were just the spice of life; when it came to truly important matters, he still respected other people's opinions.
Naraku Sora casually locked Kisuke inside a cell, preparing to reap a wave of benefits.
However, the rewards he received next were somewhat beyond Naraku Sora's expectations.
Naraku Sora had some impression of this Bakudō.
Previously, when they teamed up against Arturo, Aizen had used Ninety-Six Capitol Fire-Suspended Seal Destruction to seal him.
Simply because Arturo could use High-Speed Regeneration infinitely; as long as a single scrap of flesh and blood remained, he could regrow a complete body.
The best way to deal with him was sealing.
It was simply absurd.
But perhaps because Arturo had put all his skill points into High-Speed Regeneration, his actual combat strength was quite a bit weaker than Starrk, who was also a self-made Arrancar.
One could only say that you win some, you lose some.
What Naraku Sora hadn't expected was that he would actually draw this Bakudō from Urahara Kisuke.
It should be known that in the original timeline, Aizen had been defeated by this exact move.
But in this world, because he, the butterfly, had flapped his wings, the two who were supposed to be enemies had become cooperative partners.
They had even formed a special research group, and their relationship was extremely harmonious.
There wasn't the slightest hint of animosity between them.
Naraku Sora sighed emotionally for a few seconds, then turned around and dumped the mess in the underground prison onto Urahara Kisuke.
After arriving at the cafeteria and stuffing himself with a hearty meal, he prepared to scout the other squad barracks to see if there were any suitable sinners to lock up.
Like Kyōraku Shunsui, for instance.
However, upon arriving at Squad 8, he unexpectedly learned from Yadōmaru Lisa that right before dinner, Kyōraku Shunsui had received a communication.
As the Lieutenant, Yadōmaru Lisa had specifically asked about it, only to be met with a face of utter devastation.
Then, Kyōraku Shunsui had said with full sorrow:
"This trip is fraught with peril. If I don't return, little Lisa, you can pour out two cups of Junrinan sake for me on this day every year."
Although she had been by Kyōraku Shunsui's side for a long time, Yadōmaru Lisa still had no idea what kind of crazy fit her Captain was having.
After pondering for a few seconds, Naraku Sora suddenly thought of something, and a look of sudden realization appeared on his face.
Bidding farewell to Yadōmaru Lisa, he bathed in the last rays of the setting sun and headed straight for the Squad 1 barracks.
Before he even stepped through the gates, Naraku Sora felt that scorching Reiatsu and the stifling heat constantly permeating the air.
Inside the dojo, two figures stood facing each other from a distance.
Looking at the decadent-looking Kyōraku Shunsui opposite him, Yamamoto slowly spoke:
"Captain Kyōraku, it has been ten years since I last checked on your training progress, hasn't it?"
Kyōraku Shunsui forced the corners of his mouth up with great difficulty, revealing a smile uglier than crying:
"I suppose so."
"Then have you been training diligently as I instructed?"
Even though the surrounding environment was growing increasingly scorching, cold sweat seeped from Kyōraku Shunsui's forehead.
Sweat drops the size of soybeans rolled down his temples, soaking his collar.
"Well, about that..."
As a Captain-class Soul Reaper, and one of the absolute strongest at that, how could he possibly improve just by training diligently?
When he first became a Captain, Kyōraku Shunsui had indeed worked hard.
But as time passed, he found that both his Reiatsu and his techniques had reached a bottleneck.
After several fruitless attempts to break through, Kyōraku Shunsui stopped obsessing over improving his strength and chose to slowly grind away at it with time.
Dripping water hollows out stone; sooner or later, he would reach Yamamoto's level.
But what he hadn't expected was that in this short span of less than a century, so many disasters would occur.
Every single one had nearly destroyed the Seireitei.
Kyōraku Shunsui finally realized his own shortcomings and prepared to start working hard again.
However, it was too late.
Seeing this lazy disciple unable to answer for a long time, Yamamoto already knew the answer.
The old man immediately gave a cold snort:
"Whether you've worked hard or not, we'll know once we fight."
"I hope Captain Kyōraku's upcoming performance will not disappoint me."
Kyōraku Shunsui sighed, his hands gripping the hilts of the swords at his waist.
Hundreds of years ago, this old man had already started living a retired life, but on a sudden whim, he had taken in a final disciple.
Now look what happened. His hard-earned stable blood pressure spiked every few days, and the barracks had been demolished time and time again, practically becoming the Ship of Theseus.
Facing Yamamoto, Kyōraku Shunsui naturally didn't dare to slack off in the slightest.
His eyes, which usually carried a hint of decadence, now became incredibly serious.
Accompanied by the clear chime of blades, two Zanpakutō, one long and one short, were suddenly drawn, carving cold arcs of light through the air.
Yamamoto raised the walking stick in his hand. Under the stimulation of his Reiatsu, the wooden fibers instantly sublimated, revealing the hidden Ryūjin Jakka within.
The moment the old man gripped the hilt, the atmosphere around him roared as if it were exploding.
It was like a battle horn being blown.
The instant the explosive sound rang out, a sharp glint flashed in Kyōraku Shunsui's eyes. His materialized Reiatsu erupted with a bang, kicking up a gale as sharp as blades.
Tapping his toes lightly, he instantly burst forth with astonishing speed.
His twin swords, one in front and one behind, slashed toward Yamamoto's blind spots at extremely bizarre angles.
As the wielder of one of the only two sets of paired Zanpakutō remaining in the Soul Society, Kyōraku Shunsui had specifically developed a dual-wielding Zanjutsu style for Katen Kyōkotsu.
Its main focus was being tricky and eccentric, making it difficult for enemies to adapt.
Although he had slacked off over the past few decades, after undergoing one high-intensity battle after another in recent years, his exquisite Zanjutsu had actually improved.
Coupled with his arduous training under the waterfall, Kyōraku Shunsui wouldn't dare say his Zanjutsu was stronger than Yamamoto's, but at the very least, it wouldn't be too far off.
The moment their blades crossed, countless afterimages were generated.
Ordinary Soul Reapers wouldn't be able to see the battle between the two at all; they could only vaguely make out two blurry figures constantly colliding, subsequently blooming with countless sparks.
Terrifying power spread outward with the two at the center, instantly causing ripple-like waves to form on the outer Kidō barrier.
Circle after circle, echoing endlessly.
Feeling the landslide-like force transmitting through his twin swords, Kyōraku Shunsui suffered in silence.
It had only been ten years since they last fought, so why did it feel like this old man was so much fiercer than before?
Could it be that a Soul Reaper could still improve even at the age of several thousand years old?
Just as Kyōraku Shunsui was bitterly holding on, a familiar voice rang out from outside the dojo.
"Boring. I want to see rivers of blood!"
"Teacher, use the same power you used to beat me up to beat up Senior Brother Kyōraku! With such little strength, did you skip dinner?"
Kyōraku Shunsui: "?"
Was this bastard even speaking human language?
If he wasn't currently being completely suppressed by Yamamoto, he would have wanted to deliver a vicious slash to that brat watching from the sidelines.
However, because of this momentary lapse in concentration, a hint of displeasure appeared on Yamamoto's face.
"You insolent fool, you dare to get distracted while fighting me?"
A towering pillar of fire erupted from the ground!
Kyōraku Shunsui's expression changed drastically. He immediately erupted with astonishing Reiatsu, activating his Shikai in an instant and summoning an ink-like tide of shadows that pressed down toward the pillar of fire, blotting out the sky.
Just as he barely managed to neutralize Yamamoto's Taimatsu, in the very next second, a thick, hairy leg came flying at his face, and a size-forty-two straw sandal planted itself squarely on his mug.
A loud boom rang out.
Kyōraku Shunsui, along with his swords, was sent flying backward, shattering the Kidō barrier and smashing straight through the wall.
After doing all this, Yamamoto cast a sidelong glance, looking with a displeased expression at Naraku Sora, who was leaning against the window watching the show:
"Brat, what are you doing here?"