Killing intent

"Urahara..."

"... Kisuke!"

Hirako and Hiyori, both with blond hair, spoke in voices that were difficult to decipher.

The Seireitei has always considered them as wanted criminals who could threaten the safety of the entire Soul Society. Among them Kisuke Urahara and Yoruichi Shihōin even have the qualifications to be imprisoned in the Muken.

Central 46 has always believed that these people were accomplices.

In reality, the Visoreds, including Urahara, Yoruichi, Hirako, didn't have a very good relationship; at least, they couldn't be described as harmonious.

The creator of the Hōgyoku, the beginning of everything.

The once-good captain has become a fugitive, but on the other hand, the crime is not Urahara Kisuke Urahara, who was also their savior.

While Hirako and the others wouldn't necessarily consider Urahara the culprit, they couldn't bring themselves to accept him as a comrade, at least not before facing Aizen Hirako.

"Hey, Kisuke Urahara, you bald guy, Dōsan Hanyū Hanyu is our target!"

Hiyori Sarugaki spoke with extreme arrogance.

The language made Dōsan frown, and he glanced at the group. The coldness in his eyes also made the more perceptive among them furrow their brows slightly.

Dōsan Hanyū is no pushover; despite his young age, he has an impressive track record.

"Hey, Hiyori, don't say things like that." Urahara, dressed in a casual light green plaid shirt, had a faint smile on his lips that looked rather lewd.

Hiyori, wearing straw sandals, kicked Urahara away.

Dōsan Hanyū remained silent. If it was just a matter of ignoring him, he wouldn't harbor any resentment or dissatisfaction; Dōsan wasn't one to argue.

But these people seemed to really see him as a piece of cake. Gently pressing down on the knife, Ren Hao glanced at the people around him.

Shinji Hirako was someone he could take seriously. Although Dōsan had the upper hand in their brief exchange, he could sense that Hirako still had a backup plan; at least he hadn't used his Bankai yet.

However, it's merely a matter of facing it squarely.

The person before him, Kisuke Urahara, gave Dōsan a sense of danger, even causing his long-dormant Law of Causality to tremble slightly.

After being punched twice by Hiyori, Urahara rubbed his face and looked at Dōsan seriously, "So, Mr. Dōsan Hanyū, would you be willing to do us a favor?"

"They're helping us!"

Hiyori interrupted, while the rest of the Visored stood behind Hiyori.

A surge of Spiritual Pressure rose, but since everyone was at the Captain-level, they could control it well without actually fighting, at least preventing the Spiritual Pressure from seeping out and affecting the surrounding environment.

All eyes turned and fell on Dōsan.

"I have no reason to agree." Dōsan slowly drew his black sword again, standing before himself. "I don't know what your past is like. You criminals, if you didn't provoke me, I wouldn't bother to investigate your crimes."

Criminals and crimes.

These two words deeply stung a few members of the Visored.

The one who was most annoyed was the blond Hiyori Sarugaki. Without any restraint, Hiyori launched a flying kick at Dōsan Hanyū's face.

"Hiyori, watch out!"

Hirako had truly faced the blade of Dōsan Hanyū's sword, and he could especially feel the anger that was constantly accumulating in Dōsan Hanyū's thin body.

Facing Hiyori's flying kick, Dōsan Hanyū made no reaction, simply holding his sword upright, completely unfazed.

Only Hirako and Kensei, who had just escaped danger, sensed the murderous intent surging beneath the waves.

He really wanted to kill someone.

"Get out of the way!"

'Huh? What nonsense are you talking about, bald guy?'

Hiyori didn't react; at this distance, she couldn't react in time.

The drifting clouds in the sky suddenly dispersed, Hiyori, sensing something, looked at Dōsan Hanyū's white eyebrows and the deep, lingering black in his eyes.

"It's so cold."

For a fleeting moment, while still in the midst of the flying kick, Hiyori suddenly felt as if her mind had frozen.

Fear, this cowardly emotion, resurfaced in Hiyori eighteen years after Aizen's betrayal.

This is... murderous intent!

"How boring, Yachiru."

Seireitei, the border between the 11th Division and the Central 46.

With a "thud," Zaraki pulled his broken Zanpakuto from a fallen corpse.

"Hey, she's clearly Captain-level fighter." Yachiru kicked her calf on her shoulder.

A Seireitei, and the two sides instantly engaged in a decisive battle.

Zaraki gazed enviously into the distance, where two flames were locked in a fierce battle.

One was like an immortal phoenix, the other like a world-destroying demonic flame.

"Speaking of which, Ken-chan, you've been so sullen ever since that sparring session with Little Eyebrows. Let's go find Little Eyebrows again."

Seriously, they brought up that name again.

With a casual swing of his sword, Kenpachi cut down two more masked, black-clad Soul Reaper.

A year ago, Dōsan Hanyū and Kenpachi Zaraki had a sparring match whose outcome was unknown to anyone except the two involved and Yachiru.

Since then, Kenpachi has found all his battles rather dull.

That murderous aura, even without the clash of swords, was enough to make Kenpachi melt with excitement.

The battle ended in a draw.

But Zaraki, Zaraki was passionate about fighting, knew the true outcome better than anyone else.

From then on, Zaraki went even further, launching a frenzied challenge in the Seireitei, but he never approached Dōsan Hanyū again.

Someday.

Someday.

He was able to experience that ultimate pleasure once again.

A sword beam seemed to cleave the sky Kenpachi Zaraki removed his blindfold and charged towards the elite group of soldiers dressed in night clothes.