"Ki—su—ke U—ra—ha—ra!"
Mayuri Kurotsuchi's voice was shrill and distorted.
The bizarre Reishi fluctuations that had just plagued Funbari Hill were now completely gone.
On this hilltop, ravaged and folded by spatial distortions, the once-verdant vegetation had been entirely reduced to dust, leaving large swaths of reddish-brown soil exposed.
Although the human residents nearby could not see the Soul Reapers confronting each other in the sky, such massive physical destruction was impossible to ignore.
"Oh my, what is this pungent smell in the air? My head hurts..."
"Ma'am! Put your mask on quickly! Don't go near there!"
"Emergency! Emergency! Suspected gas explosion, all residents please evacuate in an orderly manner!!"
Local security personnel had already gathered around Funbari Hill, anxiously directing the evacuation of the residents.
Even though this disaster had no direct connection to Mayuri, he was, after all, the only Soul Reaper Captain present at the scene. He would likely face harsh questioning from Central 46 afterward.
But that was not the source of his anger.
"What exactly did you do?! You scum of the Soul Society, you parasite of the academic world!"
Mayuri took a sudden step forward, the air beneath his feet rippling. "You noticed it? You actually noticed before I did that the space just now didn't belong to the World of the Living?!"
"What was that anyway? A rift in Hueco Mundo? The reverse side of Hell? Damn you, Kisuke Urahara! Why did you interfere with me at such a critical moment?!"
He swung his right hand violently. Behind him, Konjiki Ashisogi Jizo widened its eyes, its worm-like limbs constantly making threatening gestures.
Faced with this fury that could practically ignite the air, Kisuke Urahara merely let out a soft sigh.
"My, my, Captain Kurotsuchi, your temper is as fiery as ever," Urahara said, his voice as lazy as usual.
"Academic research is certainly important, but if I hadn't lent you a hand just now, you... probably would have been compressed into a two-dimensional picture by that power."
"Stop your fearmongering! I naturally had my own ways to neutralize spatial tremors of that level!" Mayuri glared coldly, his left hand resting on the Denreishinki at his waist, seemingly ready to mobilize the Department of Research and Development for the next phase of work. "If you hadn't meddled, I could have captured the exact parameters of that area..."
"And then, the President of the Soul Society's Department of Research and Development would have caused an irreversible spiritual disaster in the World of the Living, resulting in damage to tens of thousands of human souls, and even affecting the Reishi balance of the Seireitei..." Urahara interrupted him directly, his tone turning cold.
"What do you think Head Captain Yamamoto would make of that? How would those old men in Central 46 view it?"
"President Kurotsuchi, you haven't forgotten the damp, moldy smell of the Maggot's Nest, have you?"
"Even though you sit in the President's chair now, if you cause too much of a commotion in the World of the Living—one so large that even the Onmitsukido can't cover it up... Do you think they might lock you back inside?"
At the mention of the Maggot's Nest, Mayuri's breathing noticeably hitched.
That place was no vacation resort.
In that sunless underground prison, he had been driven mad by boredom and loneliness every single day, carving concepts into the walls that could never be realized.
That was until this man appeared outside his iron cage, brought him into the Department of Research and Development, and gave him the chance to see the light of day again.
"Are you threatening me, Kisuke Urahara?" Mayuri asked, his voice dropping dangerously low.
"No, no, no, this is just a friendly reminder between old acquaintances. The current situation isn't looking too good, you see..."
Urahara chuckled and waved his hand, his expression suddenly turning somewhat desolate. "Anyway, at this critical juncture, neither you nor I should appear in the negative reports of those higher-ups, right?"
Mayuri stared intently at Urahara's face, half-hidden by the shadow of his hat brim.
He knew Urahara was speaking the truth.
Although he had come to the World of the Living this time to monitor abnormal Spiritual Pressure, he had actually brought along many contraband experimental devices.
If a fight really broke out, even if he could stall Urahara with an endless array of modifications, the Reishi circulation in the World of the Living would absolutely suffer massive disruptions without measures like the Tenkai Ketsuchu to isolate the area.
When that happened, severe judgment would await him.
"Tch..." Mayuri clicked his tongue in disgust and put away his Zanpakuto.
"You want a truce? Fine. But if you think I'm going to return to the Seireitei empty-handed, that is absolutely impossible."
"Urahara, I admit that you possess a sickeningly high aptitude for certain unorthodox paths."
"Hand over all your data and materials regarding soul strengthening, and also..."
He leaned forward, his tone becoming incredibly viscous. "The Hollowfication incident from back then—I don't care how deeply you were involved, give me all the data you have on it!"
Urahara's eyes narrowed slightly, but he quickly reverted to his usual frivolous demeanor. "Oh dear, President Kurotsuchi, whatever do you mean? I don't know the first thing about Hollowfication."
"Don't play dumb with me!" Mayuri sneered. "My Project [Nemuri] has hit a few obnoxious bottlenecks regarding the self-proliferation of Spirit Cores and soul resilience. Those rotting ancient texts in the Soul Society offer absolutely no help..."
"You must have quite a few 'taboos' that you've been secretly researching behind the Seireitei's back, right?"
He extended a long, spindly finger, pointing it at Urahara's chest.
"Give me the data I want, and I'll pretend today never happened."
Kisuke Urahara fell silent.
While this demand touched upon some hidden secrets, it wasn't entirely unreasonable compared to the necessity of keeping his whereabouts concealed.
He was just a bit worried. If this data fell into the hands of a madman like Mayuri, heaven only knew what kind of terrifying monstrosity it might spawn.
"...What a greedy junior you are." Urahara scratched the back of his head, putting on a distressed expression as if he had taken a huge loss.
But he also knew that if he didn't give Mayuri some substantial bait, the trouble this stubborn lunatic could cause would be far from minor...
"Alright, alright, I can give you the data. But I must state for the record that this is all based on the analysis of extremely rare, special cases. If you blow up your project during an experiment, absolutely do not blame it on me."
"That is my business. I don't need a banished vagabond like you worrying about it."
Sneering, Mayuri pulled a bizarrely shaped data transfer terminal from his robes.
"Now. Immediately."
For the next half hour, an incredibly bizarre scene unfolded in the sky above Funbari Hill.
Two of the most brilliant—and arguably most insane—scientists in the current Seireitei were conducting a shady transaction via some sort of Reishi conversion device.
As the transfer progress bar reached its end, Mayuri looked at the complex equations and Reishi fluctuation curves dancing across the screen, his eyes finally revealing a look of ecstasy and obsession.
"I see... So there is such a method for soul resonance induction? Urahara, you really are as unpleasantly clever as ever."
Mayuri quickly put away the terminal. His manic demeanor gradually subsided, and he reverted to the gloomy, arrogant king of the laboratory.
"Deal."
He turned his back on Urahara, pouring all his attention into the precious data he had just acquired. "Get lost, Kisuke Urahara. I never saw you today."
"Enjoy your boring, peaceful days in the World of the Living. When my research is complete, I will prove whose technology is the ultimate masterpiece."
"Ah, but of course. President Kurotsuchi has always been the best," Urahara said, standing in place and waving at his retreating back.
However, just as Urahara was about to leave, he suddenly turned his head, his voice dropping low.
"Hey, President Kurotsuchi."
Mayuri glanced back over his shoulder, revealing half of his eerie mask. "Do you have any last words?"
Urahara spoke softly. "For the sake of our time as former colleagues, I'll give you a free piece of advice—"
"Watch out for Sosuke Aizen."
Mayuri's eyes narrowed, as if trying to pierce through the brim of Urahara's hat to see what he was thinking.
He let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Aizen? That sickening Captain of the Fifth Division who spends all day meekly trailing behind old man Yamamoto?"
"Have you developed some sort of persecution paranoia? Urahara, you've regressed, to actually pay attention to such a mediocre fellow."
"Mediocre, is he?" Urahara let out a soft, ambiguous chuckle.
"In that case, I wish you a safe journey."
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