The Power of Ten Years Behind This Punch

For a small-fry Hollow of this level, intelligence was closer to instinct.

If it had more going on in its head, it should have chosen to flee after sensing the Spiritual Pressure of that group of Seated Officers.

But right now, the Hollow was focused entirely on Dōsan Hanyū, that delicious-smelling human.

"You smell so good!" The Hollow straightened up and lunged into the alley, its meter-long foreclaws stabbing at Dōsan Hanyū like sickles.

Dōsan Hanyū reacted just as quickly. Knowing he could no longer stay hidden, he raised an eyebrow and leaped backward as if anticipating the attack, displaying extraordinary combat talent.

The surrounding spirit bricks were sent flying everywhere. Dōsan moved nimbly like a spirit ape, weaving between them.

Silently apologizing, Dōsan retreated frantically as he dodged the Hollow's attacks, fleeing for his life deeper into the adjoining alley, which was less than three people wide.

The Hollow's attacks were clumsy. Its enormous body crushed the walls of the surrounding houses, and, already slow to begin with, it could only slash wildly with its foreclaws, but it couldn't hit Dōsan Hanyū. Its extended tongue could attack as well, though not as quickly as Dōsan had imagined; it was even more cumbersome and sluggish.

"Yamete!"

The souls caught up in the commotion didn't even have time to get dressed before running off bare-assed.

The Hollow paid those little bugs no mind. When a lavish feast was right in front of you, no matter how hungry you were, you wouldn't spare a glance for scraps.

Only Dōsan filled its hollow eyes, and an unknown fluid dripped from the corners of its mouth.

Compared to the delicious soul before it, those little bugs tasted downright... disgusting.

With a whistling rush of air, a sickle-like bone claw swept toward him. Dōsan's eyes widened, and he stomped on the ground and retreated.

The bone claw passed the tip of Dōsan's nose. For an instant, he even felt a chill there. The Hollow roared immediately afterward, making his eardrums tremble.

Dōsan felt the blood surge through his body and began looking for a chance to strike back. He knew that if he kept running like this, he would surely be the first to run out of stamina.

Trying to find a chance to counterattack while dodging, Dōsan slammed a fist into the Hollow's cold carapace. The recoil made his arm go numb.

The Hollow narrowed its pitch-black, empty eyes and let out a sinister cackle. It attacked again, but Dōsan dodged once more.

As he adapted, Dōsan gradually began to take the initiative. His eyes darted about, searching for openings, and though the Hollow's attacks were fierce, those few giant claws alone couldn't threaten Dōsan Hanyū!

"Too stupid." Dōsan raised an eyebrow.

The battle continued, and now, from Dōsan Hanyū's perspective, the Hollow was like one of the drunk customers in an izakaya, its every movement utterly haphazard.

Dōsan Hanyū's apprehension eased considerably. His thoughts grew clearer, and he calmly analyzed the situation.

The surrounding houses had collapsed, but they had created a confined space. If he tried to run, he would be completely exposed within the Hollow's sight and attack range.

He couldn't run. He could only fight!

Having settled on a path forward, Dōsan Hanyū became far less hesitant. His body moved on instinct, dodging the Hollow's attacks, while his brain raced in search of an opportunity.

Dōsan clenched his fist, and the space around his hand faintly distorted.

Ten years ago, when Dōsan Hanyū had first arrived in Soul Society, he had been robbed in some chaotic places. At the brink of life and death, he had awakened a "special" power.

He discovered that when he concentrated intensely, he could draw on this special power to imbue his fists with special damage.

But rather than fight and kill for the necessities of survival, Dōsan Hanyū preferred to work for them.

"This punch has ten years of power behind it. Can you block it?"

The delicacy was right in front of it.

And Dōsan Hanyū's constant dodging had thoroughly enraged the Hollow.

It brought its two foreclaws together, and a red sphere of light gradually formed in front of them.

At this movement from the Hollow, the windowpanes and walls along the entire street shattered with a crackle like firecrackers.

Dōsan Hanyū's white brows drew together in a straight line. As the sphere of light filled with tremendous energy formed, the Hollow's aura grew stronger, and Dōsan's shoulders felt as though they were bearing a thousand pounds.

Dōsan felt no fear, nor did he show any intention of retreating.

An arrow could not be recalled once loosed. Dōsan shot forward like one, his fist wreathed in an unusual gray Spiritual Pressure as he met the attack head-on.

None of the Soul Reapers had expected this corporate slave, who meekly endured the manager's scolding all day, to be so valiant at the brink of life and death.

Meanwhile, the Soul Reapers' attention was completely drawn to the Hollow's Spiritual Pressure, which was filled with evil.

"This is..."

"A Cero!"

How could that be?

Rangiku Matsumoto cried out in shock. How could a small fry among small-fry Hollows use an advanced skill like Cero?

"Growl, Haineko!"

Rangiku Matsumoto was a rising star among the Soul Reapers, and her mindset was not yet so mature. Watching an innocent young man about to die before her eyes, she could bear it no longer. She drew her sword, released her Zanpakuto toward her colleagues, and charged down.

The members of the Twelfth Division did not stop her. They couldn't believe that a mere small-fry Hollow like this could use a skill like Cero either.

The man in the white coat was still berating the squad members around him.

"What's going on? This Hollow's strength doesn't match the experimental data at all."

"Sorry, 10th Seat. There must have been an accident with the person in charge."

Damn it!

The man in the white coat's face darkened.

A Hollow capable of firing a Cero was enough to cause a major disaster. Even their Twelfth Division wouldn't use a test subject of this level.

And choosing a Hollow like this as a test subject to test Dōsan was definitely a major blunder in his career as a Soul Reaper!

The red sphere on the Hollow's claws had compressed to its limit, ready to fire.

"Run!"

Dōsan Hanyū didn't notice the chaos above, nor did he notice the well-intentioned shout.

Under the tremendous pressure of the Cero, Dōsan Hanyū seemed to awaken a talent hidden within his instincts.

He grew calmer and fiercer, a faint light coating his fist.

The Cero erupted, shooting toward Dōsan Hanyū. But instead of dodging, Dōsan Hanyū chose to charge straight at the attack.

The moment the Cero drew near, Dōsan Hanyū's eyes were stretched wide, his face burning as Spiritual Pressure surged madly throughout his body. Then, in a flash, he appeared in front of the Hollow and smashed his fist into its mask.

Crack.

Dense cracks spread across the Hollow's mask. With a roar, it left its final wail in this world, and its enormous body fell without a doubt at Dōsan Hanyū's feet.

The battle was over.

The Hollow's enormous body had perfectly blocked the Soul Reapers' view of that final blow.

Rangiku Matsumoto landed and looked with some surprise at Dōsan Hanyū, who had the Hollow underfoot, his chest rising and falling slightly.

She could tell that in that last blow, he had gathered the spirit within his body into his fist.

In Soul Reaper terms, that was called "Hakuda"!

Although the principle behind Zanjutsu and Hakuda in Zankensoki lay in the release of Spiritual Pressure,

a young man who did odd jobs every day had actually figured out such a skill on his own.

Could this kid have been a great villain who killed countless people, like Kenpachi Zaraki, in his previous life?

Dōsan Hanyū panted heavily. He had been in fights before, but never one this intense. His chest heaved as he gasped for breath, bent over with his head raised, looking at the orange-haired auntie in front of him.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh...

Before Dōsan Hanyū could emerge from the joy of victory, nine figures instantly surrounded him.

"My respects to you Soul Reaper lords." Dōsan Hanyū was somewhat startled and suspicious, but he immediately lowered his head and nervously expressed his respect.

Among their circle of wandering souls, the Soul Reapers had quite a terrible reputation.

Before he could say more, a Soul Reaper in a white coat stepped forward, barely concealing the delight and arrogance on his face, his right hand resting on the Zanpakuto at his waist.

"Dōsan Hanyū, you are suspected of involvement in the incident that left Tachikawa Magaki, the Twelfth Division's Fifth Seat, unconscious, and suspected of involvement in the Hollow's arrival in Rukongai. You are hereby under arrest! If you object, you will be executed on the spot!"

As his words fell, the nine Soul Reapers gripped the hilts of their Zanpakuto and stared unblinkingly at Dōsan. For a moment, the atmosphere grew oppressive.

But Dōsan, who had just been through a life-and-death struggle, showed no cowardice in the face of threats from the Soul Reapers he had once admired. Instead, he felt his blood begin to boil.

Dōsan chose neither to argue nor to endure in silence. That strange power gathered in his right hand.

A group who couldn't even be bothered to put up a false pretense surely weren't going to invite him to a feast.

Dōsan Hanyū's fist cracked, and his deep eyes held an inscrutable haze one could not look directly at.

From his side, layers of invisible gray mist spread outward in interlocking rings.

The man in the white coat sneered and slowly raised his sword with a swish, holding it in front of him.

"Bakudō #1: Sai." With those words in a slightly languid female voice, the man in the white coat who had taken the lead was bound. The remaining Soul Reapers tried to draw their swords, but Rangiku Matsumoto kicked them down one by one.

"Rangiku Matsumoto, are you trying to defect?" The man in the white coat was still wriggling in shock and anger when Rangiku Matsumoto kicked him unconscious.

Rangiku Matsumoto kicked her colleagues over one by one again, then set aside her languid manner, sheathed her Zanpakuto, and turned to lean close to Dōsan Hanyū.

The faint scent of alcohol tickled the nose of Dōsan, a brewer. He raised his head and heard the orange-haired auntie say in a mature, refined voice:

"I apologize for my colleagues' discourteous behavior.

"Though it may be a little hasty for me to say this in my current position, there is something I would like to ask you. Dōsan Hanyū, would you like to become a Soul Reaper?"