A Baffling Assignment

On the outskirts of District 1 of West Rukongai was a remarkably deserted area, a place where even roving bandits would not choose to rob anyone.

Yet the desolate place was now filled with leaking Spiritual Pressure.

Dōsan's chest heaved, and he was bent slightly at the waist, but his gaze was as sharp as a hawk's. His eyes kept turning, sweeping around in a circle as he sought a single opening in his predicament.

"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh."

If not for the occasional sound of something cutting through the air, an ordinary person might have thought there was only a white-browed youth in noble attire standing there in a daze.

Soon.

This overwhelming superiority in Shunpo was something Kūkaku had demonstrated in front of him before.

But the Dōsan of today was no longer comparable to the Dōsan of then.

He silently felt the fluctuations of Spiritual Pressure around him.

Now!

"Hadō #31: Shakkahō."

Dōsan raised both hands and fired a ball of flame at the young captain as she appeared in his field of vision.

Such keen combat instincts, such masterful Kidō.

A trace of admiration rose in Soi Fon's heart, even envy.

The difference in their Spiritual Pressure was as vast as heaven and earth. Dōsan Hanyū's eyes, or his perception of Reiryaku, could not possibly keep up with her.

Anticipation. He had sensed the path and angle of her attack.

Perhaps only Dōsan himself had failed to notice.

This was talent: through observation alone, he could reach heights that ordinary people would struggle to attain in a lifetime.

It was not just his monstrous combat instincts, but his Kidō as well.

Back when he fought Nemu, Dōsan's performance in Kidō had already been stunning enough.

And now, some ten days after that fight, Dōsan's Kidō had improved noticeably again.

Both in casting speed and in power.

But!

It was over.

A dazzling golden fingertip pressed against Dōsan's forehead, and Soi Fon wore a slightly smug smile.

Though the young captain struck just as decisively in battle, her whole demeanor was not as cold as usual.

A moment ago, from Dōsan's perspective, it had looked as though the young captain's body had passed through the Shakkahō.

In reality, she had moved at an outrageous speed, first dodging the Shakkahō and then returning to its line of attack.

The speed was simply astonishing.

In truth, if he had really wanted to land a hit, the young captain would at least not have been so casual if he had used Byakurai, but Dōsan had his own pride.

"Did you understand?"

Soi Fon withdrew her hand, her pointed fingers turning into a streak of white light as she pulled them back.

Dōsan nodded lightly.

Shunpo, or rather Zankensōki as a whole, depended on the output and control of Spiritual Pressure.

When using these skills, the user would instinctively find a Spiritual Pressure frequency that felt most comfortable to use.

And within the limits of one's control, the more Spiritual Pressure one put out, the better the effect would naturally be.

That was in theory.

In practice, pouring out Spiritual Pressure wildly to increase the speed of Shunpo could certainly not be sustained and existed only in theory.

Thus, the customary output of Spiritual Pressure was not the optimal solution.

There were patterns to follow for optimal Spiritual Pressure output, both in the amount released and its frequency. The young captain was teaching him these things.

Within a certain range of output and frequencies, one had to find the frequency best suited to oneself.

That was how one trained in Shunpo.

As for Soi Fon, after more than two days together, at least her relationship with Dōsan was no longer as strained as before.

Big Brain's scheme had indeed worked.

"So, can you fight another round?"

Normally, the Punishment Force reserves she "attended to" were not only less talented but lazy as well. Now that she had Dōsan instead, Soi Fon was somewhat eager to put him to the test.

"Absolutely, Captain." Dōsan wiped the sweat from his forehead. This was still a long way from matching his high-intensity training.

Soi Fon smiled faintly and spread her legs. "Then I'll..."

Before she could finish, Soi Fon's expression changed, and she looked to her right with a somewhat serious expression.

Dōsan was also taken aback. Silently sensing his surroundings, he noticed that something seemed to be flying toward them from afar.

A butterfly.

A large black butterfly.

Dōsan frowned slightly, faintly sensing the flow of Spiritual Pressure through the butterfly.

The Hell Butterfly landed by Soi Fon's ear, and she silently received the message it delivered.

[Investigate abnormal Spiritual Pressure at coordinates (197, 1123), West Rukongai]

The coordinates were nearby.

But it was very strange.

Her Second Division mostly investigated crimes committed by Soul Reapers or nobles.

Matters concerning Hollows and investigations into abnormal Spiritual Pressure had never been the Second Division's responsibility.

In particular, the Captain-Commander had issued an order outside her duties directly, without calling a captains' meeting. Since becoming Second Division Captain, Soi Fon had never received such a strange assignment.

But that was all she thought of it.

What a joke. In Soul Society, the thirteen captains stood at the peak of fighting strength. There was nothing wrong with being cautious.

But to call it fear would be going too far.

"I'm sorry, but it looks like we'll have to stop here today. I have a mission."

The fight had brought the two of them much closer. Soi Fon was not as cold as before, and Dōsan was a little less reserved.

Dōsan had no objection, but the moment the young captain turned around, a thought suddenly occurred to him, and he felt some inexplicable emotions.

Though there had been many misunderstandings between him and the young captain these past few days, Dōsan could sense that she mostly meant well.

He now possessed sufficient strength himself. If possible...

Dōsan took a step forward with his right foot, his lips moving slightly.

Even that small movement caught Soi Fon's attention. "What is it?"

"May I ask, is there anything I can help you with?"

Soi Fon was just about to refuse, but changed her mind.

Seated Officer-level combat strength was the backbone of the Thirteenth Division, a force no one could afford to underestimate.

"Keep up."

Soi Fon deliberately slowed the pace of her Shunpo, and Dōsan followed behind.

At first, he was fine, but after using Shunpo over a long distance, Dōsan's breathing began to grow ragged, and beads of sweat formed densely across his forehead. Most importantly, his Spiritual Pressure began to grow chaotic.

Soi Fon showed no intention of slowing down.

Dōsan did not rush either. Instead, he paid attention to the rhythm of the young captain ahead of him and slowly adjusted his breathing.

Rhythm, fluctuations in Spiritual Pressure, the proportion of Spiritual Pressure output, the proportion of Spiritual Pressure in different parts of the body.

Dōsan observed them one by one.

He learned them one after another.

Leading the way up front, Soi Fon grew increasingly astonished. As an expert in Shunpo, she could clearly sense Dōsan's rocket-like progress.

She gave a wry laugh to herself. Back then, even with guidance from the one known as the Flash Goddess, she had trained painstakingly day and night to reach Dōsan's current level.

"We're here."

As they approached the coordinates, Soi Fon's Shunpo slowed.

A faint killing intent spread from between her brows.

Dōsan followed close behind and immediately saw more than a dozen corpses strewn about.

Faint Spiritual Pressure leaked through the area, and the smell of blood struck at Dōsan's heart.

The dozen or so corpses lying there all shared a distinctive feature: they wore black, masked outfits for moving at night, just like Soi Fon's subordinates.

All of the dozen or so people before her belonged to her Second Division.

Among them were her Fourth Seat, Sixth Seat, and 10th Seat.

The division, already short on resources, had suffered another blow.

Soi Fon clenched her teeth tightly. Her Spiritual Pressure began to boil like a pot of hot water, billowing her white haori into a cloak.

Suddenly, she keenly noticed the fingers of a Soul Reaper lying on the ground twitch.

With a swish.

In Dōsan's eyes, Soi Fon had clearly been standing there just a moment ago, but as though it were an illusion, when he turned his head, she had already appeared beside a fallen Soul Reaper.

This was the young captain's true speed.

"How are you?" Soi Fon crouched beside the Soul Reaper, her expression slightly anxious, but she did not move closer.

"My deepest apologies, C-Commander..." The Soul Reaper's face was pressed against the ground as he stretched out a blood-covered hand, trying to reach for Soi Fon.

"Hadō #31: Shakkahō."

In an instant, the unfortunate Soul Reaper was blasted apart before Soi Fon, blood and flesh flying everywhere.