Shoot Him, Shinsō

The Soul Reaper's corpse burst like an overripe watermelon with a bang, sending blood and flesh flying.

Soi Fon tapped her feet twice and escaped the blast radius before it reached her, avoiding the flying blood and flesh.

What a fast reaction.

That was right. The one who had just fired Shakkahō was none other than Dōsan Hanyū.

Soi Fon had only noticed something was wrong with her subordinate after she got close.

His body was clearly weakened to such an extent, yet his Spiritual Pressure remained steady.

But before Dōsan could get close, he had reacted even faster than she had.

The situation left neither of them time to dwell on it.

The flesh and blood blown apart by Dōsan's Shakkahō began to slowly gather, like wriggling maggots.

The Soul Reapers' Spiritual Pressure permeating the space also began to be absorbed by the flesh and blood. Gradually, it piled up and gathered into human form once more, taking on the appearance of Gen Kiji, the Fourth Seat of the Second Division.

Its Spiritual Pressure seemed to be a blend of that of several victims. At first, it was chaotic and jumbled, but it gradually became Gen Kiji's Spiritual Pressure.

Leaving everything else aside, judging by the sheer amount of Spiritual Pressure alone, there was no doubt that it was above Vice-Captain-level.

Gen Kiji stiffly twisted his head from side to side twice. "How could you stand by and watch me die? That's so cruel, Commander."

Soi Fon frowned. There was no doubt that, judging by its Spiritual Pressure, it belonged to a Soul Reaper.

"What the hell are you?!" Soi Fon's voice was icy. She lightly placed her right hand on the sword at her waist. Light flashed as Suzumebachi was released, transforming into a blade on Soi Fon's finger.

"That's so hurtful, Captain Soi Fon. I'm your subordinate, Gen Kiji!"

"You won't talk?" Her slender fingers rested on the Zanpakuto at her waist. A golden light flickered, and the finger blade slipped over Soi Fon's index finger. "Your life will tell me the answer."

"The brain Kisuke Urahara left behind was nothing more than a haphazardly assembled, unfinished product. It only gradually developed thoughts of its own after I cultivated it." Tachikawa Magaki nodded at her test subject with great pride.

But in truth, Kisuke Urahara had extracted a Hollow's ability, while Tachikawa Magaki had given it new life.

In terms of technical difficulty, it was hard to say which was superior.

"Still, Fifth Seat Tachikawa's test subject seems to be on its last legs, doesn't it?"

Tachikawa rolled her eyes at Gin. "Please speak properly, Lieutenant Ichimaru."

"All right, Fifth Seat Tachikawa." Gin narrowed his eyes and agreed in a relaxed yet earnest manner.

"Bleurgh."

Tachikawa Magaki pretended to retch. A stray lock stood up at the center part of her pink hair and bobbed back and forth as she struggled not to look at the silver-haired pervert again.

"Gin, do it," Aizen ordered.

"Yes, Captain Aizen."

Gin drew his sword with exaggerated slowness, his left hand gently stroking the back of the blade. As elegant as a noble young master, he narrowed his eyes and curved his lips upward. Beneath his casual manner lurked a killing intent as cold as a venomous snake.

"Shoot him, Shinsō!"

"Huff, huff, huff."

Gen Kiji panted heavily. They had fought for less than a minute, but his entire body was already covered in dense, ink-black butterfly markings: Hōmonka.

Soi Fon was somewhat puzzled. Even his fighting style was remarkably similar to Gen Kiji's.

"I've done everything I can to hold back. Don't you intend to tell me some of the things you should be saying?"

To her surprise, Gen Kiji raised a hand with a wry smile. His exposed arm was also covered in Hōmonka.

"How terrifying. It's like I've stirred up a hornet's nest."

The tone, so much like that of her subordinate, the real Gen Kiji, completely enraged Soi Fon.

Soi Fon closed her eyes. Spiritual Pressure carrying an aura of rending and destruction swept around her.

"Sting All Enemies to Death, Suzumebachi!"

She held the golden finger blade to her lips. Even a lion used its full strength to hunt a rabbit, and there was something strange about this situation. Even at the final moment, Soi Fon dared not be careless.

"Watch out!"

As Soi Fon sped forward like an arrow loosed from its bow, she suddenly heard that urgent shout behind her. Immediately afterward, a trace of icy killing intent at her back made the hairs on her body stand on end.

Only when Dōsan warned her and she felt the cold of the blade behind her did Soi Fon notice it.

Her combat instincts, which had never failed her before, now seemed to have shut down.

A current of Spiritual Pressure, faintly familiar, pierced her body.

Soi Fon could not sense what was behind her and had no time to look. She heard only a crack, and then the left side of her chest was torn open.

Blood sprayed from her chest, instantly soaking her Captain's Haori.

Soi Fon abruptly fell to her knees, staring blankly ahead.

Gen Kiji was no longer in her field of vision. All she could see was the hot blood spraying from her own chest.

Soi Fon had suffered countless injuries, but this was the first fatal wound she had ever received.

Sword energy rampaged through her body, churning her internal organs into a tangled mess.

Her body temperature began to plummet, and her vision began to blur.

Yet there on the battlefield, only that person's figure remained in her eyes.

I still haven't received her apology.

Two faint tracks of tears ran down Soi Fon's face.

In fifteen years, this was the second time she had cried, just one day after the first.

"Girl captain, hang on."

Something warm embraced her.

It was very familiar, very comforting.

"Lady Yoruichi!"

Soi Fon's eyes remained open, but she reached out blindly and caught hold of Dōsan's arm as he performed Kaidō.

Dōsan held Soi Fon with one arm and performed Kaidō, while his other hand gripped a broken Asauchi.

Sensing everything happening in her body, Soi Fon gave a bitter laugh.

Their opponent was a lieutenant.

At least one Captain-level figure was also watching them closely from the shadows.

In her current state, even with Dōsan continuously treating her with Kaidō, she could not rule out the possibility of sudden death.

Dōsan knew the situation on the field.

Or rather, with his keen intuition, Dōsan understood the peril of their situation better than Soi Fon did.

Dōsan had no way out.

Yet he did not feel the slightest panic.

The reassurance he felt from his right hand allowed his instincts to override reason.

His gaze drifted to his right hand. It held a Soul Reaper's broken Asauchi.

When he had first arrived on the battlefield, Dōsan had once again heard that familiar call.

[Call my name.]

As if guided by an unseen force, or perhaps following his instincts, Dōsan had picked up the sword, which had already reverted to an Asauchi.

But before he could examine it properly, he sensed a fierce killing intent shooting toward the girl captain.

Dōsan's reaction had been swift indeed. He had reached out with the Asauchi to block the attack.

The Asauchi had broken instantly, but it had also saved the girl captain's life.

"Oh-ho, Mr. Hanyū, if you leave now, I can let you go."

With the outcome of the fight reversed, Gen Kiji's face nearly creased with his smile.

A battle between Soul Reapers was, in truth, a battle of Spiritual Pressure.

Whatever Gen Kiji's current state, his Spiritual Pressure was undoubtedly at the peak of Vice-Captain-level.

Dōsan Hanyū, whatever his talent, had trained for only a month at most. His combat strength was comparable to that of a Soul Reaper 10th Seat, but his Spiritual Pressure was still nowhere near that level.

The gap was as vast as an uncrossable chasm.

What was more, Dōsan had such a burden in his arms.

Soi Fon, who had been receiving Kaidō treatment in Dōsan's arms all this time, was now out of immediate danger. But restoring her to fighting condition was not something Dōsan's level of Kaidō could accomplish.

Hearing Gen Kiji's words, Soi Fon forced her dry lips apart. "Run."

Of course, Soi Fon did not believe Dōsan's Shunpo could outpace this Gen Kiji.

But she was the one who had wanted to bring Dōsan on the mission.

And she was the one who had held back at every turn because she wanted to question their opponent, allowing him to turn the tables.

No matter how she looked at it, she, Soi Fon, had no face to keep clinging to life, nor could she stand by and watch Dōsan fall before her eyes.

As Gen Kiji took in the complicated situation, his expression closely resembled that of a gossipy classmate privately discussing a couple in their class.

"Commander, you wouldn't want Dōsan to die because of you, would you?"

Gen Kiji's words seemed to crush the last of Soi Fon's pride.

"Kill yourself, and I can promise to let him go."