Hasumi Ren's voice was not loud.
But on the Eleventh Division training ground, every word rang out clear and bright.
After a brief, dead silence, a roar of laughter erupted.
Those resting on the sidelines and the members who had stopped mid-clash with their Zanpakuto still in hand laughed uninhibitedly.
They were doubled over, some banging the backs of their blades against the ground to jeer.
"Hey, hey, did I hear that right? A vice-captain from the Fourth Division came to challenge our Captain Kenpachi?"
"The Fourth Division? That bunch of nurses and logistics workers? What's the matter, haven't you had enough of us making you clean up our messes lately?"
"Did this kid inhale too much anesthesia in the clinic? Did it fry his brain?"
"Boss Kiganjo, take it easy on him! That's the only vice-captain in the Seireitei who can actually heal us!"
Although most were laughing and mocking, a small number of members stood frozen with wide eyes.
They were members who had been treated by Hasumi Ren, so they recognized him the moment he walked in.
They simply never expected that Hasumi Ren would be here to challenge for the seat of Kenpachi.
Though they had no idea why this vice-captain would pull such a stunt, out of personal gratitude, they didn't want to see a doctor with such exquisite skills fall to the Kenpachi's blade.
Several of them swallowed hard, stepped forward, and whispered to Hasumi Ren, urging him to leave quickly and stop making trouble.
But seeing Hasumi Ren's calm and confident expression, those who couldn't talk him out of it eventually sighed and stood back into the crowd.
Amidst the raucous noise, Kiganjo also laughed wantonly.
Only when the surrounding clamor died down did he slowly stand up from the stone block, looking down at Hasumi Ren.
His dark face was full of thick muscles, and his curly hair was like steel wire.
When he stood up, his burly frame was twice the size of an average Soul Reaper, and his towering shadow descended, completely engulfing Hasumi Ren.
"Do you know what a Kenpachi duel means?"
Kiganjo lowered his head, staring at Hasumi Ren, his eyes glinting with murky light in the shadows.
His voice wasn't high, but it carried a coarse, heavy pressure—hoarse and deep.
"Kenpachi duels are fought with one's life."
"The succession of past Kenpachi has never been about 'stopping at the right moment.' It's either win, or die."
"Do you think because you're an Acting Captain of the Fourth Division, I'll show mercy?"
His lips slowly pulled back, revealing a row of uneven teeth.
"Run now, and I'll treat it as drunken nonsense. If you don't run..."
He drew his Zanpakuto from his waist, the blade flashing with a chilling, keen light in the sunlight.
"Then leave your life here."
Hasumi Ren looked at him, then at the gloating faces around him, and spoke softly.
"Enough chatter. Let the blades do the talking."
Kiganjo's expression froze for a second.
Then he let out a disdainful laugh, devoid of the previous mockery, replaced only by a more primal, bloodthirsty excitement.
He shouldered his Zanpakuto and turned toward the patch of barren sand in the center of the training ground.
"Get out of the way!"
He roared.
The onlookers retreated like a tide, clearing a circular space dozens of steps wide in the center of the training ground.
The news spread, and many rushed over to witness this sudden Kenpachi duel.
The crowd grew, the space became insufficient, and some even climbed onto the nearby rooftops.
All eyes were locked on this patch of ground, watching the white-haired young man standing in the center, confronting Kiganjo.
Hasumi Ren stood firm and drew his blade.
The blade of Garenge also radiated a bone-chilling coldness, clean as a mirror.
The sword was well-maintained, looking starkly out of place compared to the heavily worn blades of the Eleventh Division members present.
Kiganjo pulled his Zanpakuto from his shoulder, gripped the hilt with both hands, and aimed the tip at Hasumi Ren.
His Reiatsu began to surge, spilling forth without restraint.
The surrounding squad members felt Kiganjo's Reiatsu and broke into cheers.
Kiganjo grinned savagely and swung his blade at Hasumi Ren.
"To deal with you, I don't even need Shikai!"
He raised his Zanpakuto high above his head, the blade carving a rough arc through the air before slamming down with all his might.
The blade descended with immense power; Kiganjo's brute force was on full display in that moment.
The onlookers squinted, waiting for Hasumi Ren's reaction.
Even if he was from the medical squad, he was still a vice-captain—surely he wouldn't be cut down in a single blow.
But in the next second, something everyone hadn't expected happened.
Hasumi Ren stood his ground, not retreating, nor dodging.
His Zanpakuto moved after, but arrived first, meeting Kiganjo's powerful strike head-on with incredible speed.
In Hasumi Ren's eyes, besides having great strength, this strike was riddled with flaws.
The moment Hasumi Ren blocked the strike, the laughter on the training ground vanished instantly.
Kiganjo's pupils contracted violently.
His hands were still on the hilt, his arm muscles strained as if they were about to burst, yet his blade could not move an inch.
Hasumi Ren's fingers, like five iron pincers, gripped his Zanpakuto firmly, locking Kiganjo's blade dead in mid-air.
Kiganjo's dark face flushed deep red; he raised the blade again and brought it down fiercely.
A crisp sound of clashing blades rang out, but Kiganjo's strikes were all parried by Hasumi Ren—there wasn't even a hint of breaking through his defense.
"Captain Kiganjo, the level of these strikes is quite average. Empty force with a lack of technique—your Kendo is hollow."
Seeing that Hasumi Ren could leisurely critique his swordsmanship while parrying his strikes, Kiganjo completely lost his composure.
Kiganjo backed away abruptly, roaring in anger.
"Good brat! You're this arrogant just because you have some brute strength? You don't think those few exchanges were my full power, do you?!"
The next moment, the ground beneath Kiganjo's feet collapsed.
His form was like a boulder launched by a catapult, crushing toward Hasumi Ren with violent Reiatsu.
Hasumi Ren was no longer holding back. He raised his blade slightly.
The Kendo fragments accumulated during his training with Unohana, elevated to Level 7, were fully revealed at this moment.
Hasumi Ren's speed was blinding. His blade traced a tiny arc through the air.
With surgical precision, he parried Kiganjo's blade while lightly grazing his neck.
Clean and decisive, without a hint of wasted force.
The two silhouettes crossed. Kiganjo landed, looked at Hasumi Ren who hadn't taken his strike head-on, and let out a scoff, preparing to swing again.
"Captain Kiganjo! Y-your neck..."
Hearing the squad members' gasps, Kiganjo felt a chill on his neck. He frowned and reached up to touch it, then froze.
It was a smear of blood.
At some point, Hasumi Ren had carved a hairline-thin blood line into his neck.
When did this happen...?
Unfortunately, Hasumi Ren's blade was too fast; only a few people present had truly seen the trajectory of his blade.
For example, on the distant rooftop, those few figures who had appeared out of nowhere.
Kyoraku Shunsui's lowered straw hat lifted slightly. Ukitake Jushiro stood beside him, his pale face showing a trace of unconcealable surprise.
Behind them, Shiba Kaien's mouth was agape in a perfect circle.
The exquisite control of power and the overwhelming swordsmanship left the group stunned.
Anyone with eyes could see that if Hasumi Ren hadn't held back just then...
The outcome had already been decided.
"I didn't expect to see such a sight on a trip out... Hey, Kyoraku, is Hasumi Ren's Kendo really this strong?"
"Cough, cough, it's my first time seeing it too, but... looks like it's not our turn to step in."
"True, but I wonder, who taught him his Kendo..."
Ukitake said this, seemingly thinking of something, and looked back at Kyoraku.
In each other's eyes, they both saw a flash of surprise.
It seemed they were thinking the same thing.
Kyoraku's mind was quicker, and as part of the intelligence unit, he had access to more data.
He was aware of Unohana's current situation.
And Hasumi Ren's actions now made him draw a strange correlation.
He raised his hand, rubbing his chin, his eyes flickering.
"The name of Kenpachi... might change hands today."
In the middle of the battlefield, after another round of exchanges, Kiganjo let out a low grunt, and his right hand involuntarily let go of the hilt.
Kiganjo's Zanpakuto slipped from his palm, flipped twice in the air, and embedded itself in the sandy ground.
He clutched the wound on his right arm with his left hand, staggered back two steps, and that dark face once again showed an expression of incredible shock.
In his eyes was a blankness that his brain hadn't yet reacted to.
Hasumi Ren lifted his Zanpakuto, pointing the tip at Kiganjo's throat.
"See clearly this time?"
"Use whatever else you have left. Let you lose with a clear conscience."
The watching squad members were now dead silent, all their expressions frozen.
This Fourth Division vice-captain, whom they had ridiculed for half the day, had displayed a Kendo prowess beyond anyone's imagination.
Before him, Kiganjo was like a brat swinging a weapon with brute strength, toyed with and humiliated.
By now, anyone with a brain realized what that shallow cut on Kiganjo's neck meant.
So, from the very beginning, the outcome had already been decided...
Kiganjo gasped for air, his right arm hanging at his side, blood dripping from his fingertips.
He looked down at his injured arm, then up at Hasumi Ren's calm eyes.
The corners of Kiganjo's eyes were nearly splitting open.
He took a sudden few steps, grabbed his Zanpakuto, and his Reiatsu began to fluctuate violently at an abnormal frequency.
"Bankai!"
He roared. These two words, squeezed from the depths of his throat, carried the madness of being pushed into a corner.
Reiatsu erupted from his body like a flood, blowing away all the sand and stone on the training ground.
His Zanpakuto began to expand under the shroud of Reiatsu, transforming into a decapitating broadsword twice the height of a man.
Watching the Bankai-wielding Kiganjo, Kyoraku Shunsui in the distance calmly rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.
Ukitake coughed slightly, his brows furrowing.
However, amidst the sky-filling dust, Hasumi Ren simply held his Zanpakuto level, pointing it at Kiganjo.
Then he spoke in a low voice, reciting the release command, his tone steady and clear.
"Shikai, Garenge."
After releasing his Zanpakuto, a certain restraint within Hasumi Ren disappeared.
Kiganjo swung his great sword, surging Reiatsu rising up as he attacked like a gale.
The next moment, Hasumi Ren vanished from his spot.
The crowd saw only a chilling, piercing flash of light, but no one caught a glimpse of Hasumi Ren himself.
Until Hasumi Ren landed lightly behind Kiganjo.
Kiganjo's lunging body stalled instantly, and he stood stock-still.
The onlookers couldn't stop swallowing, feeling only that Hasumi Ren was incredibly fast, yet no one saw what happened.
Until Kiganjo's lips trembled slightly, and his eyes rolled back uncontrollably.
Then, a hairline-thin blood line appeared on his face.
The blood line extended downward until the oozing blood could no longer be contained, and his body began to tremble uncontrollably.
Then, a gash opened across his body.
Blood sprayed out, and Kiganjo's body split in two, falling apart along with his Zanpakuto, cleaved in half.
Kiganjo's corpse fell, emitting two heavy thuds, and the entire training ground plunged into absolute silence.
Hasumi Ren sheathed his blade, walked to Kiganjo's side, picked up the blood-stained half of the captain's haori, and draped it over his shoulder.
"Pass the word down: the Captain of the Eleventh Division will be taken over by me starting today."
"'Captain Ken-Hasumi' doesn't sound right; from now on, just call me Captain Ken-Hasumi Ren."
Hasumi Ren left with the half-haori.
And the members of the Eleventh Division present did not say a word.
They just stared blankly at Kiganjo's corpse on the ground, long and speechless.
High up on the distant roof, Kyoraku Shunsui slowly pulled his hand away from his hilt; the shadow under his straw hat obscured his expression.
"Hey, little friend, my lieutenant isn't here, could I trouble you to run an errand for me?"
Kyoraku looked at Kaien behind Ukitake. It took Kaien a while to come back to his senses, and after glancing at Ukitake, he nodded heavily.
"Please speak."
"Report to the Captain-Commander that the Eleventh Division has undergone a change in Kenpachi."
"The former Kenpachi, Kiganjo, has been defeated and killed. The new Kenpachi... is the former vice-captain of the Fourth Division, Hasumi Ren."
Kaien took the news and arrived via Shunpo. By the time the news reached the First Division, Yamamoto Shigekuni was sitting alone in the general meeting room.
Sasakibe pushed the door open, walking much faster than usual, his brows knitted tight, his eyes filled with disbelief.
Yamamoto saw Sasakibe's panic and frowned.
"Sasakibe, why the panic? I just felt someone use Bankai in the Seireitei. Was it Kiganjo?"
"Yes, Captain-Commander, something has happened, the seat of Kenpachi..."
After hearing Sasakibe's report, Yamamoto's eyes widened in an instant, shock surging in the depths of his pupils, and he froze where he sat.
"What... did you say?"
The next moment, a faint scent of blood drifted in. Before the doors of the meeting room, which hadn't had time to close, a figure appeared.
Yamamoto looked toward the sound.
Hasumi Ren was strolling in from the main entrance, wearing half a blood-stained captain's haori over his shoulder, his expression calm.
Sasakibe turned around, looking at Hasumi Ren, his mouth slightly agape, having forgotten to close it.
Hasumi Ren walked to the table, stood still, bowed, and looked at the undisguised surprise on Yamamoto's face.
"Captain-Commander, the new Kenpachi has come to report to you."
"Now, are you willing to instruct me?"