Chapters 345: Can't You Be More Human?
"Is that... the Captain's Bankai?"
Jūshirō Ukitake looked up at the sky, exclaiming in surprise.
Being able to use someone else's Zanpakutō's Shikai was already unbelievable enough, but these two could even perform Bankai.
This battle was completely reshaping his understanding of the world.
However, compared to Satoru using Ryūjin Jakka's Bankai itself, what concerned him more was the appearance of the Bankai.
"Strange, when the Captain faced Kuchiki last time, he used Bankai once."
"At that time, the Captain's Bankai clearly appeared as something resembling burnt charcoal, with a scorched blade emitting smoke but without a single flame."
"Why does Satoru's Bankai look like this?"
Hearing this, Retsu Unohana spoke up:
"Because this is Ryūjin Jakka's original form."
"A thousand years ago, Lord Genryūsai swept across the entire Soul Society in this very form, establishing the Gotei 13."
"That figure cloaked in flames is the manifestation of his will."
"In the hands of one with great ambitions and unwavering determination, Ryūjin Jakka responds to that will, displaying this boiling appearance."
Hearing this, Ukitake was slightly taken aback.
"Captain Unohana, are you saying the Captain no longer possesses such will?"
"No, Lord Genryūsai hasn't lost his firm will."
Retsu Unohana gently shook her head.
"He has simply learned to conceal his burning will and emotions over the long years."
"Just like that scorched blade - it appears to have cooled, but its temperature is actually more intense than it was a thousand years ago."
"Regardless of form, both are manifestations of Ryūjin Jakka's power."
"If I had to explain, rather than comparing superiority, this is more like the inheritance of will."
She raised the corners of her lips.
"A thousand years ago, Lord Genryūsai carried this will and established the Seireitei, creating the system of the Gotei 13."
"Now, what kind of world will Satoru create?"
Shunsui Kyōraku adjusted his straw hat.
I see...
Is this what sensei meant by "Kishin"?
When a Kishin appears in the world, it will inevitably change everything.
This is really... even an old man like me can't help feeling fired up hearing these words.
In the Dangai, Yamamoto watched Satoru's transformed state, his expression shifting multiple times.
Finally, he didn't say anything, just grinned widely.
"Good boy, worthy of being my disciple."
"I never thought I'd see Ryūjin Jakka in this form again."As Shu Xiu, you've passed.""
Amid the raging flames, Satoru silently watched him.
His gaze was cold, his expression resolute, as he slowly asked:
"What does the term 'shuxiu' mean?""
Yamamoto took a deep breath, his blood pressure skyrocketing.
Too lazy to waste words on this illiterate disciple, he erupted with a brilliant Reiatsu glow, gripping his iron claws as he charged toward Satoru.
Sensing Yamamoto's overwhelmingly unreasonable pressure, Satoru also grinned widely.
With a swing of his sword, massive flames churned and roiled as he too charged toward Yamamoto.
In his mind surfaced the image of Yamamoto cutting down Kenpachi Kuruyashiki with that single strike.
He subtly adjusted his wrist, attempting to mimic that slash.
But this brief moment wasn't enough to fully replicate it.
Yamamoto's strike, while appearing to be an ordinary slash, actually contained numerous sophisticated techniques.
Usually, the old man always emphasized teaching him Hakuda, rarely instructing him in swordsmanship.
The old fox must have been holding back, afraid I'd surpass him.
If Yamamoto could know what Satoru was thinking now, he'd probably faint from anger.
How many times had he pressed Satoru's head down, telling him to properly practice swordsmanship, yet this idiot would always end up throwing his sword somewhere during fights?
He wanted to teach swordsmanship, but how could he??
Both parties closed in on each other.
Yamamoto brought his iron claws together, his entire being resembling dawn breaking through darkness as he thrust toward Satoru.
Meanwhile, Satoru simply abandoned his attempt to mimic Yamamoto's strike.
Instinctively, he treated his entire arm and Ryūjin Jakka as a single entity.
This strike unleashed a sophisticated force he had never used before.
Double·Sōmyō!!
BOOM!!!!
In the Dangai, blinding light erupted, lingering for a long time.
Even powerful fighters like Kyōraku and Ukitake had to raise their hands to shield their eyes from the radiance.
As for the Kidō Corps members, they had long been shouting "Argh!" and "My eyes! My eyes!" while collapsing to the ground.
When the light finally faded, Kyōraku hurriedly focused his gaze.
But he discovered that the two figures had vanished from the Dangai.
Subconsciously, a phrase surfaced in his mind—
Mutual destruction?
Ahem, ahem.
Kyōraku quickly coughed twice, dismissing this absurd thought.
"Where's sensei? Where's Satoru?"
Ukitake exclaimed in surprise.
Retsu Unohana frowned slightly, considering whether to pursue them into the Dangai.
The Kidō Corps members gradually picked themselves up.
Everyone looked at each other uncertainly.
What should they do now?
Should they continue firing the Kidō Cannon to destroy the Kyōgoku?
Tessai Tsukabishi's expression was grave; he too had no idea what to do.
Just then, a large group of people flooded into the square.
Led by Kenpachi Zaraki, a contingent of Eleventh Division members surrounded the area.
"Ha! Nobody move!"
"This area is now under Eleventh Division control!"
"Anyone who dares make a move will be cut down!"
Witnessing the absurd scene before them, the Kidō Corps members widened their eyes in disbelief.
Ukitake was visibly confused.
Swish! Swish!
Yoruichi, Sōjun Kuchiki, and Ichimaru Gin appeared simultaneously.
"Captain Kyōraku, Captain Ukitake, Great Kidō Chief Tessai."
"At present, the Soul Society has descended into chaos. To prevent further incidents and avoid complicating matters when the Captain-Commander and Satoru return, we request your cooperation."
Ukitake's eyes widened in shock.
"What are you all..."
Before he could finish, Kyōraku reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.
Puzzled, Ukitake turned to look at him.
He noticed Kyōraku subtly gesturing with his eyes toward the side.
Following his gaze, Ukitake saw Retsu Unohana smiling at him.
Her right hand had already, at some unknown moment, come to rest on her Zanpakutō.
"Captain Ukitake, it's time for your medication check."
"Please come with me."
Ukitake's mouth fell open.
Though he had always known Retsu Unohana was close with their junior disciple, he never imagined that at such a critical moment, Captain Unohana would unhesitatingly side with the Eleventh Division.
Assessing the balance of power on the scene and considering the leaders of both sides in this conflict, his expression grew complicated. He wrestled with his thoughts for several seconds.
He simply stopped thinking about it and lowered his hand that was ready to draw his sword.
Seeing this, Retsu Unohana nodded with satisfaction.
As for Tessai Tsukabishi, who originally came from the Shihōin Clan as a guest advisor, he naturally wouldn't act recklessly when both captains had already conceded.
Without any hesitation, he directly ordered the Kid
If we don't treat him quickly, the consequences will be severe.
His displeasure wasn't directed at Sōken Ishida.
These Living World Quincy, who had long been subdued through force, were nothing more than a group of defeated soldiers in his eyes, utterly unworthy of his attention.
What truly angered him was that while he lay severely injured and confined to bed, that brat Satoru remained lively and energetic, chatting with others nearby.
"Lord Mikami, please lie still and don't move around!"
Ishida Ryūken was sweating profusely, his face pale with distress.
Nearby, Shiba Isshin and others were also assisting.
Satoru sat on the bed, laughing heartily.
"No need to worry! How could such minor injuries hinder my innate physical prowess?"
"Look, I'm perfectly fine!"
As he spoke, he raised his arm and rotated it several times.
Seeing this action, Ishida Ryūken nearly lost his composure on the spot.
Like Yamamoto, Satoru was also severely wounded.
His right shoulder had been completely torn open.
The raging Reiatsu attached to Risō Jakumetsu had shredded his flesh, leaving it in tatters.
This massive vertical wound stretched from his shoulder all the way down to his abdomen.
To be blunt, his injuries were even more severe than Yamamoto's.
However, before Ishida Ryūken could begin treatment, Satoru had already "healed" himself.
Using threads made of shadow, he pulled all the shattered bones in his body back into their original positions as if assembling a puzzle.
The torn flesh was also stitched together with shadow-made needles and threads, holding everything in place.
Currently, his body was in an utterly absurd state.
Much like the abominations stitched together from pieces of flesh in fantasy lore, nearly one-fifth of Satoru's upper body was forcibly reassembled from minced meat using sutures.
For an ordinary person, even if such a treatment were possible, the sheer agony of the process would be enough to kill them from pain alone.
Yet aside from his pale complexion, Satoru acted as if nothing were wrong, still rotating his right arm and laughing boisterously.
Ishida Ryūken was on the verge of losing his mind.
A significant reason the Living World Quincy could live so peacefully and secure a place to survive was Satoru's presence.
This nearly invincible man, with his absolute power, gave the Soul Society ample confidence that no matter what tricks the Quincy might pull, they could be suppressed at any time.
Thus, the Soul Society agreed to let the Living World Quincy continue to exist.
If Satoru were gone, this so-called peace treaty would likely become worthless in an instant.
At that point, all Quincy in the Living World would face utter annihilation!
Unable to concern himself with propriety any longer, he rushed forward, desperately trying to stop Satoru's reckless behavior.
Yamamoto lay on the bed, his gaze calm.
The pain from the surgical procedures on his body didn't bother him in the slightest; he didn't even furrow his brow.
Watching the chaotic scene around Satoru, a somewhat sentimental look appeared in his eyes.
Then, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly, revealing a nearly imperceptible smile.
This kid... has truly grown up.
Although this battle had its farcical elements, the final outcome was undeniable.
This rascal had already become a warrior qualified to fight him on equal terms.
Involuntarily, his mind drifted back to over a hundred years ago, when he first met this boy.
Facing the strongest man in the Soul Society, this kid actually dared to bargain, asking to be assigned to a squad with more female Shinigami.
Taken in as a nominal disciple, he felt no joy at all—in fact, he even wanted to refuse.
Those very incidents that had once made his blood pressure spike, leaving him wishing he could kick the fool to death, now seemed oddly amusing in retrospect.
Perhaps this, too, was part of that idiot disciple's peculiar charm.
Yamamoto felt a wave of drowsiness wash over him.
Slowly, he began to close his eyes, ready to doze off for a while.
Suddenly, the door swung open.
Aizen's figure stepped calmly into the room.
After a brief scan of the room, his gaze settled on Satoru.
Though his expression remained neutral and he said nothing, the temperature in the room seemed to plummet by more than ten degrees.
Yamamoto, who had been on the verge of sleep, jolted awake instantly…