Chapter 382: Only You Can Save Satoru Mikami!
Yamamoto fell ill.
It happened very suddenly.
Without any apparent symptoms, he just collapsed.
His three disciples came to visit, asking about his condition. The old man only complained of mental exhaustion, dizziness, and drowsiness.
Upon hearing this, Satoru suddenly understood:
"Kidney deficiency!"
"?"
Yamamoto angrily sat up, reaching for his sword.
Then, suddenly remembering he was supposed to be sick, he let out a "Hmph" and lay back down.
Kyōraku and Ukitake: "..."
"I'll go fetch Captain Unohana to examine you, old man."
"If something's really wrong, we should make preparations in advance, right?"
Yamamoto was about to agree when he suddenly realized something.
Wait, Captain Unohana wasn't his former comrade anymore.
That woman made no secret of being in cahoots with Satoru.
If she examined him, his act would be exposed.
After a moment's thought, he coldly declared:
"What examination? I know my own body best!"
"With proper rest, I'll naturally recover!"
"For the time being, you three will handle all administrative orders concerning the Seireitei!"
"Satoru will take the lead, with Kyōraku assisting... As for Jūshirō, rest more, just like me!"
Hearing this, Jūshirō Ukitake smiled and nodded.
Kyōraku and Satoru, however, both paled visibly.
Especially Kyōraku - last time Yamamoto pretended to disappear, leaving the mess to Satoru, he was the one who ended up suffering!
Not this again, at least wait until the old man's been dead for ten years!
Satoru reached out:
"Teacher, since my recent promotion, I've gained considerable expertise in healing. If you don't want Captain Unohana to examine you, let me take a look instead, I can also..."
"Bastard!! Are my words meaningless now?!"
Yamamoto roared angrily, causing Satoru to quickly withdraw his hand.
Tch, the old man's resorting to shameless tactics now.
How did the Gotei 13 end up with such a thick-skinned captain?
What a disgrace to our school!
Satoru felt profound distress.
In the end, Yamamoto took to his bed, surrounding himself with piles of books to pass the days.
According to him, to maintain military morale, his illness must not be publicly disclosed—this matter should only pass from his lips to his three disciples' ears, not to be known by outsiders.
Satoru expressed his understanding—keeping the death unannounced, standard procedure.
After saying this, he fled the room, chased by Ryūjin Jakka's flames.
Regardless, the final outcome was that all arrangements and directives concerning the Wandenreich now originated from Satoru.
None of the divisions voiced any objections about this.
Putting aside the relationships between the various division captains and the Eleventh Division, even without those connections, everyone had long grown accustomed to Satoru repeatedly standing in for Yamamoto at the First Division.
While busy with official duties, Satoru also found time to visit the Thirteenth Division.
Ukitake's residence was situated beside a small stream.
Living here served two purposes: the quiet environment aided his recuperation, and since he frequently needed to brew medicine, being too close to other squad members would fill the entire dormitory area with the scent of herbs.
To avoid inconveniencing others, he had moved to this secluded spot alone.
Ukitake was quite pleased by Satoru's visit.
He instructed his two vice-captains to prepare wine and dishes to entertain his junior brother.
The two sat by the stream, chatting about daily matters, drinking and eating at leisure, completely at ease.
After the meal, Satoru revealed his purpose for visiting.
"Ukitake-senpai, I plan to completely resolve your illness."
Hearing this, Ukitake looked somewhat startled.
After a brief moment of surprise, he offered a wry smile:
"Satoru, my illness might be different from what you imagine. This is..."
"Congenital organ dysfunction."
Satoru finished the sentence for him.
"I've heard the details from Uncle Kyōraku."
"The Right Arm of the Spirit King resides within your body, Ukitake-senpai."
"It replaces your lungs, sustaining your life. In return, when the Spirit King faces crisis, you must sacrifice your life to prevent the collapse of the Three Realms."
"I've already learned all this."
"The fact that I know this and still came here means I already have a solution."
He raised two fingers:
"First, I'll use my Reishi control ability to recreate a complete set of internal organs for you—stronger than your original ones, and completely new, fresh, and healthy."
"Next, I'll engage in a territorial battle with the Spirit King's Right Arm."
"Against the complete Spirit King, I'd naturally stand no chance, but against just one arm, I'm confident I can win."
"After dealing with the Spirit King's Right Arm, I'll transplant the organs I created into you. If all goes well, you should recover your health!"
At this point, he crossed his arms:
"Of course, as a professional physician, I must also explain the risks upfront."
"This treatment plan carries potential dangers."
"If the Spirit King's Right Arm proves far more powerful than I anticipated, and I can't defeat it, then not only will we fail to cure your illness, but your condition might worsen due to the consumption caused by the Spirit King's Right Arm."
"How will you choose, Senpai?"
After listening to Satoru's words, Jūshirō Ukitake remained seated, closed his eyes, and quietly contemplated.
After about a minute, he opened his eyes and smiled at Satoru:
"I've decided, Satoru."
"Please treat me."
Satoru raised his eyebrows: "Even though it might fail?"
"Yes."
Jūshirō Ukitake nodded.
He lifted his head and looked up at the sky.
"Satoru, perhaps in your eyes, I'm a man who's content with the status quo and has calmly accepted reality."
"But the truth is, I've been enduring torment all along."
"As a disciple, I've received great kindness from our teacher, yet because of this body, I cannot contribute or repay him."
"While Kyōraku and you are striving hard, I can only remain here, enjoying the peace you've brought."
"Despite possessing considerable strength, I always end up holding everyone back at critical moments."
"Never mind if there's only a small chance of failure—even if you told me there was only a small chance of success, I would accept it without any regrets!"
Looking at Satoru, he grinned, revealing a rare, sunny smile.
"Don't worry, Satoru. No matter the final outcome, I will absolutely not complain."
"Please, go ahead!"
Seeing Ukitake seemingly radiating positive energy, Satoru also curved the corners of his mouth.
No matter how maliciously netizens from his previous life speculated about Ukitake, at least in his eyes, Ukitake was a worthy senior brother.
Selfless, upright—even while bearing unimaginable pain, he still did his best to influence others positively.
These qualities alone were enough to make him worthy of being Yamamoto's disciple.
The two returned to the bamboo hut and sat cross-legged.
Satoru raised both hands and pressed them against Ukitake's back.
Ukitake found it rather peculiar why such a treatment method was being used.
Satoru explained that this was traditional martial arts, a cultural heritage, and that such treatment would provide a psychological boost to increase efficiency.
Hearing this, Ukitake naturally had no objections.
Under Satoru's control, the Reishi within Jūshirō Ukitake's body began to intensely activate.
Under Satoru's manipulation, this Reishi rapidly altered its essence.
Pure Reishi coalesced, taking on the form of organs.
Since this Reishi was sourced directly from Ukitake's body, it even eliminated the possibility of rejection reactions.
As the organs gradually took shape, Satoru directed his Reiatsu toward Ukitake's lungs.
The moment they made contact, the scene before Satoru's eyes instantly changed.
Ukitake, who had been sitting with his back to him, vanished.
In his place was a pure expanse of white.
Amid this whiteness was a mass of thick, black, viscous substance.
Under Satoru's gaze, the black matter abruptly surged upward.
On its surface, numerous eyes opened, all turning their gaze toward him.
The moment those eyes fixed on him, Satoru felt as if a bucket of ice-cold water had been dumped over his head.
Every cell in his body was seized by an invisible force, losing all vitality.
Even the Reishi within him became difficult to circulate.
The Right Arm of the Soul King held the authority of "stasis."
Anything affected by it would cease to advance, falling into eternal stagnation.
If he continued to be eroded by its power, his body and Reishi would all become inert, unable to move.
At that point, he wouldn't die but would remain forever in his current state, incapable of any action or even thought.
Sensing the power of the Right Arm of the Soul King, Satoru felt a wave of emotion.
Fortunately, he had heeded Sōsuke's advice earlier and hadn't rashly attempted to treat Ukitake.
If it had been him before stepping into this new realm, he would have been finished the moment this power seized him.
But now...
Satoru's eyes snapped open.
A multicolored halo instantly expanded around him.
The Right Arm of the Soul King, a mass of black viscous matter, was enveloped in the light, its imposing aura plummeting to the depths.
The cells and Reiatsu that had nearly ground to a halt now moved unimpeded.
In that instant, Satoru sensed a feeling of "fear" emanating from the black mass before him.
"Just an arm, yet it has its own consciousness?"
Satoru shook his head in amusement.
Indeed, anything related to gods always had a touch of sanity-shattering weirdness.
If he continued to grow stronger, would he end up like the Soul King, with every part of his body developing its own will?
The thought of his "Hamashō" one day detaching itself, sitting across from him, and engaging in earnest conversation made Satoru shudder.
What... you ask what the "Hamashō" would use to "sit"?
Naturally, it would use two...
Stop, stop!
Damn it, why does my imagination have to be so vivid!
Shaking his head, Satoru quickly dismissed this terrifying thought.
No matter which parallel world it was, such a thing absolutely must not happen!
As Satoru's multicolored halo gradually intensified, the isolated and helpless Right Arm of the Soul King began to weaken.
After a tug-of-war lasting over ten minutes, the Right Arm of the Soul King completely wilted.
Sitting in place, Jūshirō Ukitake felt as if a large hand had reached inside his body.
The massive hand reached inside his own body, grabbed hold of something, and yanked it out.
In that instant, he felt an exhilarating sensation akin to having years of accumulated waste thoroughly cleansed.
Then came the painful suffocation.
Fortunately, the suffocation lasted only a few seconds before his new lungs began functioning.
Jūshirō Ukitake took a deep breath.
The cool, bamboo-scented air entered through his nostrils, flowed down his trachea, and slowly filled every alveolus.
At that moment, such intense comfort surged through Ukitake that his entire being felt uplifted.
That powerful sense of gain and relief—only those who've truly experienced impaired lung function, lung disease… or at least chronic rhinitis could understand such joy.
His previously muddled mind, now supplied with ample oxygen, became clear and bright.
His heavy, reluctant body began brimming with strength.
Overjoyed, Ukitake turned to Satoru, eager to share his elation.
Only to see Satoru holding a squirming black object, wearing a villainous, sinister grin.
"Hehe, stop struggling. Now that you're in my hands, no matter if you're the Right Arm of the Soul King… there's no escape!"
"Accept your fate obediently. What awaits you is endless modification and research, kekekeke!"
Jūshirō Ukitake: "…"
Seemingly sensing Ukitake's gaze, Satoru snapped back to reality.
He coughed, sealed the Right Arm of the Soul King into a special container, and stored it in the Shadow Space.
After doing so, he looked at Ukitake.
"How do you feel, senior brother?"
Ukitake smiled:
"Amazing… unprecedentedly wonderful."
"Satoru, thank you. I truly don't know how to express my current joy and gratitude toward you!"
"Haha, no problem, no problem… Senior brother can just handle all those documents Teacher assigned me."
"…?"
The smile slowly faded from Ukitake's face.
Staring at his junior brother, he fell into deep thought.
Was it possible that curing him was just incidental, and the real goal was to use him as a tool?
Ukitake couldn't help but marvel.
Teacher really found a treasure.
Jūshirō Ukitake's recovery sent shockwaves throughout the Gotei 13.
This captain, who had been frail for nearly a millennium, had almost become a symbolic figure within the Gotei 13.
Among everyone, Yamamoto and Kyōraku were especially delighted.
As Ukitake's closest master-disciple family members, seeing him fully healed brought them more joy than their own well-being.
The old man gathered all disciples for a rare drinking celebration in the First Division.
Satoru raised his hand:
"Teacher, you're recuperating and shouldn't drink. Just smell it from the side."
That day, the temperature in Seireitei rose by ten degrees for unknown reasons.
...
...
Player Satoru has entered the map "Fifth Division Barracks."
Engaged in conversation with key NPC Sōsuke Aizen and gifted the item "Sealed Right Arm of the Soul King."
Sōsuke Aizen's favorability greatly increased!
Current favorability: (Content encrypted)
Sōsuke Aizen, overjoyed, crossed out five Satoru-specific grudge notebooks.
Current grudge notebook count: (Data overflow)
Holding the container sealing the Right Arm of the Soul King, Aizen couldn't put it down.
The husky has grown up and started bringing money home. How wonderful.
Just as he was about to praise someone, Satoru revealed that all-too-familiar smile.
Seeing that expression on Satoru's face, Aizen knew this guy was about to cause him trouble again.
Sure enough, under his gaze, Satoru rubbed his hands together and said with a laugh:
"Sōsuke, the old man gave me a task - to plan a military exercise for the Gotei 13."
"Originally, according to my idea, I'd just be the final boss and let them all challenge me together. I'd take them down one by one."
"But according to the teacher's intention, he wants everyone to feel some real urgency, so it would be best to create some opponents they've never seen before."
"What do you think we should do, sir?"
Aizen shook his head in amusement.
Such a small matter didn't require his personal involvement.
Kisuke Urahara would be more than sufficient.
Just pull some people from Las Noches, create an invasion incident or something similar, and the problem would be easily solved.
But just as he was about to speak, he suddenly remembered something.
Indeed, this was actually a good opportunity.
He beckoned, and Satoru's eyes lit up as he leaned in close.
Aizen quickly explained his plan...
...
...
Living World, Karakura Town.
Three years passed in the blink of an eye.
The little Ichigo who was only nine years old had now become a twelve-year-old young man.
Having advanced from elementary school to middle school, though his appearance remained somewhat childish, his demeanor had gained a certain maturity.
His experience fighting Hollows had given him a sharper edge than ordinary people.
Ordinary people might not feel it too strongly, but those who had seen bloodshed or were sensitive to danger - like yakuza bosses - would get the feeling when they saw Ichigo that "this boy has unlimited potential."
Generally speaking, students who stood out so obviously from others would have difficulty fitting into groups in Japan.
But Ichigo wasn't alone.
Not to mention his childhood friends Mizuiro and Tatsuki.
Uryū Ishida, the Quincy, attended the same middle school as him.
Though Ishida appeared somewhat reluctant on the surface, he often accompanied Ichigo nonetheless.
Moreover, Inoue Orihime and Chad Sado, both of whom Ichigo had helped before, had also gathered around him.
This group of clearly intimidating individuals (with the exception of Inoue Orihime) was regarded by other students as the delinquent faction of their class, and everyone kept their distance from them.
Ichigo didn't particularly mind this.
Those who lead fulfilling lives and possess rich inner worlds don't concern themselves with the opinions of ordinary people around them.
Even after Satoru left the Living World for an unknown destination, Ichigo continued his training diligently.
Only now, his instructors were his own parents.
Under the guidance of Shiba Isshin and Kurosaki Masaki, Ichigo's abilities grew at an astonishing rate.
His father had once remarked that his current strength would have been sufficient to qualify as a Captain in the previous era.
Ichigo didn't fully grasp what that meant, and his father had just laughed it off without elaborating.
Today was another one of those days when his parents had gone traveling, leaving him alone to watch the house.
Incidentally, when these two went on trips, they always took Karin and Yuzu along, but never him.
Ichigo fell into deep thought.
Was he really their biological child?
Tying a small apron around his waist, he went to the open kitchen, prepared dinner by himself, and set the table.
Just as he was about to eat, he suddenly frowned.
Crack!
Ichigo's spirit form separated from his body, leaped out the window, and emerged outside.
No sooner had he appeared than he saw a Senkaimon opening right in front of his home.
A figure rushed out from the gate.
Recognizing the newcomer, Ichigo broke into a smile.
Satoru!
But the smile quickly vanished from his face.
Something was wrong.
Satoru looked nothing like his usual clean and tidy self.
His white Captain's Haori was stained with red blood.
His Shinigami Uniform was torn in several places.
At that moment, Satoru gripped his Zanpakutō, brows furrowed tightly as he fled rapidly while glancing back repeatedly at the Senkaimon.
Swish! Swish!
Two figures charged out close behind him.
Both had their faces covered with black cloth, revealing only their eyes.
They also wore black cloaks that concealed their Reiatsu, making it difficult to discern their spiritual pressure.
The moment they appeared, they immediately pursued Satoru.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!!
The instant they caught up to Satoru, they drew their Zanpakutō and unleashed a barrage of over a dozen slashes in rapid succession.
Satoru barely managed to block most of the attacks, but a few strikes still found their mark.
Blood sprayed from his shoulder.
Seizing the opportunity, the two assailants stabbed through Satoru's collarbones from front and back, pinning him between them.
After struggling briefly, Satoru lost his strength.
Witnessing this scene, Ichigo's pupils contracted sharply.
"Bastards, stop right there!!!"
He roared, directly drawing his Zanpakutō from his back and charging forward violently—
"Getsuga! Tenshō!!"
Ichigo swung his blade down fiercely, unleashing a torrent of blue Reiatsu!
For this strike, he had augmented it with the power of his Blut, making its output far exceed his normal attacks.
Normally, he wouldn't use such a powerful technique against opponents.
But against these two, he wouldn't hesitate to employ any and all strength!
Facing Ichigo's attack, a flicker of surprise passed through the pursuers' eyes.
However, they showed no panic.
They withdrew their Zanpakutō from Satoru's body and dodged to either side.
Left behind to bear the full force of the Getsuga was Satoru alone.
Ichigo was horrified.
He flashed forward using Hirenkyaku, intercepting the Getsuga Tenshō's path before it could strike Satoru.
Confronting his own unleashed attack, he raised his Zanpakutō horizontally to block it—
BOOM!!!!
A massive explosion of Reiatsu erupted above Kurosaki Clinic!
Amidst the dust and debris, Ichigo swung his sword fiercely, clearing his line of sight.
He shielded Satoru behind him, radiating a threatening Reiatsu like an enraged young beast toward the two Shinigami before him.
"Who are you?!"
"Why are you attacking Mr. Mikami?!"
One of them lowered his voice as he looked at Ichigo:
"Criminal Satoru has violated Soul Society laws by sharing Shinigami powers with a human."
"Central 46 has issued an order to arrest Satoru and execute him."
"Wha..."
Ichigo's eyes widened.
Satoru, sharing Shinigami powers with a human...
Wasn't that referring to himself?
For something like this, they were going to execute Satoru?
What kind of reasoning was this?!
While he was stunned, the other masked figure turned to his companion:
"Hey, what are you doing? How could you leak such confidential information?!"
Masked Man A chuckled:
"This isn't an ordinary person."
"Look carefully... He's Ichigo Kurosaki, the boy shown in the records whom Satoru granted Shinigami powers!"
"What?!"
Upon hearing this, Masked Man B was shocked and stared at Ichigo Kurosaki.
"Hmph... I see. Then there's nothing more to say. Perfect timing - let's take care of this kid too."
As he spoke, he drew his Zanpakutō and pointed it at Ichigo.
Listening to their conversation, Ichigo snorted coldly.
"Who's taking care of whom remains to be seen!"
With these words, he swung his Zanpakutō and charged directly at the two men.
The two masked figures showed no reaction to Ichigo's attack.
Only when Ichigo closed within effective range did one of them suddenly speak:
"Bankai."
"Enma Kōrogi."
As the words echoed, an invisible barrier instantly expanded.
Ichigo's vision plunged into complete darkness.
After a brief moment of surprise, he quickly composed himself.
An ability that seals vision, huh.
Though somewhat troublesome, it was still manageable.
He could just use Reiatsu perception...
Huh? His Reiatsu perception had vanished too?
Soon, Ichigo realized it wasn't just his vision and Reiatsu perception.
His sense of touch, smell, hearing...
All his senses had been completely sealed.
Damn, how was he supposed to fight like this?
His first instinct was to swing Zangetsu, unleashing over a dozen Getsuga Tenshō strikes to block all possible approaches from every direction.
Unlike ordinary Getsuga Tenshō that would fly outward, these transformed into sharp cutting lines that coiled in the air around him.
This was a special technique he'd developed by combining his Quincy ability to highly control Reishi with his Shinigami powers.
Unless his opponent could shrink to figurine size and slip through the gaps between the slashes, there was no way they could harm him in the short term.
Buying himself this time, he could find an opportunity.
Either wait out the technique's duration, or find its weakness...
Stab!!
Just as Ichigo was rapidly thinking, the Reiatsu within his body suddenly sent feedback to his brain.
A blade had pierced through his shoulder.
With his senses sealed, he couldn't even feel the pain.
But Ichigo knew this wound was serious.
Damn it... I clearly sealed off the surrounding space. How did they get through?
He swung Zangetsu again, cutting several times around himself.
Stab!!
This time, the shoulder holding his sword was also pierced.
Ichigo was furious.
Are these two toying with me?
Why aren't they attacking vital points?!
With burning rage, he erupted with soaring Reiatsu!
Outside the black barrier, Ichimaru Gin retracted his Shinsō and clicked his tongue in amazement:
"My... Back in the day, I was also called a genius and monster at the academy."
"But compared to this kid, I'm practically mediocre."
"No wonder Lord Mikami stayed in the Living World with this child for over half a year without returning to Seireitei."
Tōsen glanced at him:
"Captain Ichimaru, we're merely carrying out Lord Mikami's orders. Don't let personal feelings interfere."
"Hmph, we'll see about that."
Ichimaru Gin revealed a smile.
However, this smile was concealed by his mask and couldn't be seen.
Under Ichigo's assault, Enrakyōten's barrier finally couldn't withstand the pressure and shattered.
As light returned to Ichigo, the pain in his shoulders immediately surged into his brain.
The intense pain made him gasp sharply.
He tightened his grip on Zangetsu, ready to fight these two to the death.
But just then, a wave of dizziness suddenly overwhelmed his mind.
Ichigo swayed unsteadily, finding it difficult to even maintain his balance in the sky. His footing slipped, and he plummeted from mid-air, crashing to the ground.
Above him, the two masked figures looked down.
"Should we finish him off?"
"Hmph, no need... When I stabbed him earlier, my sword was coated with a special poison prepared by Captain Kurotsuchi. He's already as good as dead."
"You're really a treacherous fellow."
"Kekeke, I'll take that as a compliment."
As they spoke, they picked up the unconscious Satoru who had fallen nearby and headed toward the Senkaimon.
"Mr... Mikami..."
Ichigo lay on the ground, his vision gradually blurring as he stared intently at Satoru, reaching out his hand.
Seeing Ichigo, Satoru showed a faint smile.
His voice echoed in Ichigo's ears:
"Ichigo, don't come looking for me."
"Seireitei is too dangerous. If you come now, you'll only meet your death."
"Forget about me, and live well..."
Ichigo couldn't hear the words that followed.
Under the effects of Kurotsuchi's special poison, he fell into a deep slumber.
...
...
After an unknown amount of time, Ichigo slowly opened his eyes.
What appeared before him was an unfamiliar ceiling.
He frowned slightly, as if pondering something.
Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he sat up abruptly.
"Mr. Mikami... Mr. Mikami!!"
"Mr. Kurosaki, please calm down."
A voice sounded beside him.
Ichigo turned his head in surprise to see a man wearing a Japanese yukata with messy straw-colored hair, looking at him seriously.
"You are..."
The man pulled out a small fan, snapping it open with a flourish:
"Well now, my name is Kisuke Urahara, and I am Mr. Mikami's subordinate."
Mr. Mikami's?!
Ichigo showed an anxious expression, grabbing Urahara's clothes:
"Where is Mr. Mikami? Where is he?!"
"Mr. Mikami... he..."
Urahara's expression turned grave.
After a few seconds, he sighed:
"Unless something unexpected happened, Mr. Mikami has likely been imprisoned by now."
"Mr. Kurosaki, you probably don't know this, but in Soul Society, transferring Shinigami powers to a human is considered a capital offense. Even with Mr. Mikami's high status, he cannot escape judgment."
"His ultimate fate will likely be execution!"
"Before he was captured, he specifically instructed me to come to the Living World to protect your life and prevent you from being harmed by Soul Society."
"I suppose I haven't failed his final request..."
As he spoke, he lifted his sleeve to wipe away tears.
Ichigo looked at him with some confusion.
Was it just his imagination, or did this man seem somewhat happy when mentioning Mr. Mikami's impending execution?
Realizing he might have shown too much delight, Urahara quickly coughed:
"Mr. Kurosaki, let me check your wound."
Saying this, he began removing the bandages from Ichigo's shoulders.
Just as he was about to comment, he suddenly froze.
The two penetrating wounds on Ichigo Kurosaki's shoulders, inflicted by Ichimaru Gin, had already mostly healed.
For a moment, Kisuke Urahara fell into silence.
He had always believed Satoru's monstrous level was already unmatched in the world.
Never did he expect someone to be even more monstrous than him.
No wonder both Mr. Mikami and Mr. Aizen held such favor for this youth called Ichigo Kurosaki.
If it were himself, it would be hard not to be moved by such an exquisite uncut jade either...
After realizing Ichigo Kurosaki's value, Urahara, who hadn't been very willing to participate in this play before, suddenly gained much more enthusiasm.
He opened his folding fan, covering his face, revealing a serious expression:
"Mr. Kurosaki."
"At present, Mr. Mikami's life hangs by a thread."
"You're the only one who can save him!"
Hearing this, Ichigo showed a determined gaze.
"Yeah."
"No need to tell me... I'll definitely bring Mr. Mikami back!"
"I don't care about the Soul Society or Central 46."
"If they want to kill Satoru, they'll have to go through me, Ichigo Kurosaki, first!"
Without hesitation, Urahara raised his hand and applauded...