Cruelty Knits a Snare and Spreads His Baits with Care

And Cruelty knits a snare, and spreads his baits with care. -- William Blake, Songs of Experience (1794)

Fourth Division, Operations Command Center

Shunsui Kyōraku sat behind the makeshift command platform, his pink haori jacket draped over the back of the chair, his straw hat resting on his lap.

The candlelight on the table flickered slightly. He had been sitting in this room for a long time, listening to the Tide of intelligence coming and going from various teams.

"According to the information from the Inner Court Corps," Nanao Ise, standing at the command post, her glasses reflecting the candlelight, "the Feimou Corps still hasn't found any clues about Captain-Commander Yamamoto's whereabouts."

Kyōraku tapped his fingers lightly on the table:

"Old Man Yama is the Captain-Commander, the cornerstone of the Gotei 13. If the cornerstone is gone, all counterattacks are like building a tower on quicksand. We must find the place where Muramasa controls Old Man Yama."

"Please ask the Feimou Corps to keep searching. Searching for and tracking Soul Reaper is their specialty. If anyone in Soul Society can find Old Man Yama, then it must be the Feimou Corps."

Nanao nodded slightly and continued her report, "The Patrol Corps led by Lieutenant Marechiyo Ōmaeda has completed a preliminary count of the casualties in each team. Captain Soi Fon is still leading the Onmitsukidō in pursuit of the Zanpakuto that suddenly disappeared last night. There are no other new battle reports returning yet."

Kyōraku nodded. "The Onmitsukidō led by Soi Fon is the most effective fighting force under the current circumstances. Since Amber's Konsō Ceremony, she has acted much more normally, but I don't know what her inner state is like. I should still recall her when I have the chance and talk to her about Sylvan."

He put those thoughts aside for the moment and said to Nanao, "Night is almost here. If we still can't find any trace of them, have Captain Soi Fon lead the team back to rest. Next."

Kiyone Kotetsu took a step forward, her usually lively face unusually devoid of any expression. "Captain Kyōraku, now that the Sixth Division is on standby due to the backlog of noble affairs caused by Captain Kuchiki's disappearance, all the other divisions have gradually resumed their functions and begun to join the search for Zanpakuto."

Sentaro stepped forward and presented a thick stack of neatly bound documents with both hands. "Captain Kyōraku, this is a summary of information regarding the current status of each squad after a day of reorganization. Please take a look."

Kyōraku took the documents and opened them.

It contained a dense array of entries—the number of personnel available for each team, casualty statistics, a list of team duties that had been restored to normal, and a map of the ongoing search routes. Each page was meticulously prepared, and the annotations were clearly visible.

He looked up at the three young men in front of him: the light from the candlelight still shone on Nanao's glasses, Kiyone had faint dark circles under her eyes, and Sentaro's cuffs were stained with ink.

"As expected of Captain Ukitake's right-hand woman, you've done a fantastic job." Kyōraku closed the file, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "Nanao- chan too, your help has been invaluable. You three have all had a long day; get some rest."

Nanao bowed slightly; Kiyone also breathed a slight sigh of relief, her tense body relaxing; Sentaro tidied up the scattered documents on the table, and the three of them left the command room one by one, the door closing gently behind them.

Kyōraku sat alone behind the conductor's platform, the forced smile on his face slowly fading away like a melting candle.

The candlelight flickered inside the lampshade, casting the silhouette of his profile onto the wall behind him plastered with newsletters. "The Gotei 13 has actually stooped to the point of searching for their own Zanpakuto. How utterly pathetic."

Just then, the Denreishinki on the table vibrated. Kyōraku picked it up; the screen displayed a message from Ukitake:

We successfully reunited with Kurosaki-kun and recaptured Zangetsu. Sylvan's information was accurate; judging from Zangetsu's testimony, Muramasa's statement was not sincere, and his true purpose remains unclear. We are currently on our way to the Medical Station; we will discuss the details when we meet.

After looking at these lines of text on the screen, Kyōraku let out a long breath, and a smile returned to the corners of his mouth:

"The news about Sylvan has been confirmed. With the previous mention of Shimizu and now Kurosaki-kun, this means that Muramasa's abilities are not irreversible. Dawn is near."

He picked up his straw hat, put it on, and walked towards the door.

Inside the Medical Station

The air was thick with the mingled smells of herbs and blood. The Fourth Division's Medical Station was already full, with many beds made up of space created by dismantling lockers and desks by the Fourth Division members.

Some wards had no doors, only curtains; others had no curtains at all, with the wounded lying on makeshift beds covered with thin blankets printed with the Fourth Division's insignia.

Carrying two large swords on his back, Ichigo followed Ukitake through the corridor. He walked slowly, and every few steps he would unconsciously turn his head to look at the wounded in the wards through the open curtains.

When he Ryoka the Seireitei as a wandering ghost, he fought against many Soul Reapers. Although they were enemies and drew their swords against each other, he could sense an unwavering belief in their eyes—a belief from the bottom of their hearts that their fight was the right one.

Even though Ichigo defeated them countless times, the belief in their eyes never faded. But now, those things that once burned so brightly, which could be called faith, were like candles flickering in the wind.

Loss, self-blame, pain, and sorrow filled their hearts, seeping out of their eyes, and were received by Ichigo.

"That bastard Muramasa," Ichigo's voice laced with anger, "To actually sow discord between Soul Reaper and Zanpakuto like that, it's outrageous!"

After hearing Zangetsu talk about Muramasa's abilities, he understood— the Zanpakuto might have some opinions about their wielders, but they could never be so great as to lead to a complete break.

It was Muramasa's instigation and distortion!

It turned what could have been solved into an insurmountable chasm.

Ukitake heard his words and turned to look at Ichigo. The boy's current behavior was exactly what he had imagined Kaien would do.

"A child who gets angry when others are hurt? Now I can understand to some extent why Rukia lent him her power in the first place."

He turned his gaze back to the corridor ahead, reassuring Ichigo, "Don't worry, Kurosaki-kun. Because of your success in reclaiming your Zanpakuto, everyone will recover quickly. Although we don't know Muramasa's motives, he will definitely pay the price for his actions."

He stopped in front of a hospital room curtain, reached out and lifted it. "Let's go see Rukia first."

However, the sight behind the curtains stunned all three of them.

Lying on the hospital bed was a white "zongzi" (a type of Chinese rice dumpling) completely wrapped in bandages from head to toe.

The bandages were wrapped with extreme precision—starting from the shoulders, layer by layer, crossing at the chest, around the waist, and then back around the back, with each loop spaced as evenly as if measured with a ruler.

At the very top of that pile of bandages, a familiar face emerged: eyes wide open, a very long straw dangling from its mouth, the other end of which was stuck in a glass of water on the bedside table.

"Captain Ukitake... Ichigo... Sylvan..." Rukia froze in place upon seeing the person who had arrived.

Ichigo's lips began to twitch; he pursed his lips tightly, and his shoulders started to tremble slightly.

Then he failed—"Pfft!" He bent over, one hand clutching his stomach, the other pointing at the white dumpling on the bed, laughing so hard he could barely speak, "Hahaha, Rukia, why are you dressed like that, hahaha..."

"Ugh... it's so annoying!" Rukia's face flushed red through the gaps in her bandages. "Do you think I wanted this?! Isane did this to me!"

She gripped the straw tightly and took a deep gulp of water, then continued her accusation, "Ultimately, it's because Sylvan used this strange bandaging method in the first place!"

Sylvan silently shifted half a step to the side behind Ukitake, pretending to study the Fourth Division's duty roster on the wall. After a brief moment of surprise, Ukitake smiled, "Since you were tricked, it should be alright, Rukia."

Twelfth Division, Department of Research and Development Center

The white light from the Reishi lamp poured down from above, illuminating the entire research room without a single shadow. Mayuri Kurotsuchi stood in front of the control panel, his fingers flying across the keyboard, new data streams constantly appearing on the screen— Reishi composition, soul waveform, Shiba frequency, each updating at a speed almost imperceptible to the naked eye.

His hair was a mess, like a pile of dry straw, and his bloodshot eyes were fixed on the screen, with an almost fanatical flame burning deep in his pupils.

Opposite his control panel stood a transparent cylindrical container filled with green nutrient solution, in which floated the body of a woman with a wound on her chest.

Countless extremely thin data cables hung from the top of the container, connecting to the limbs, torso, and forehead of the body. Her eyes were tightly closed, and her face was expressionless, like a specimen sleeping in amber.

Hanging next to the container was a white Captain's Haori, embroidered with the number "four". Below the haori was a set of folded Shihakusho.

Beside it, a Zanpakuto sat alone on a metal sword rack. Various detectors of different sizes were also attached to the blade, and the flashing frequency of the indicator lights was perfectly synchronized with the breathing of the body inside the container.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi glanced at the data that popped up on the screen, a slow grin spreading across his face, revealing teeth that appeared particularly yellow in the shadows. "Interesting. Very interesting."

He dragged a set of Soul Pulse- wave diagrams to the center of the screen, placing it side by side with another set of data. "After the will of the Zanpakuto is extracted independently, is there still a portion of its power remaining within the Zanpakuto?"

He tapped his chin lightly with his fingers, his eyes turning to the other side of the screen—where the results of the previous comparative experiments were displayed. All the data showed that the Zanpakuto almost completely lost its Reiatsu response after its will was extracted.

"Was it because those weaklings we checked before were too weak, resulting in too little power remaining after the Zanpakuto's will was extracted, making it undetectable?"

Just then, a soft knock came from the door.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi didn't turn around; his fingers continued typing on the keyboard.

Nemu pushed open the door and entered, standing slightly behind the control panel. She bowed slightly and said, "Mayuri-sama, some detectors around the Twelfth Division have been damaged. There may be intruders."

"Those Zanpakuto are probably starting to cause trouble again." Mayuri Kurotsuchi waved his hand, his attention completely focused on the slowly pulsating Soul Pulse on the screen. "It started around this time last night too. Take some members and go capture a few; we've used up all the material we got last night."

Nemu's gaze fell on the several Zanpakuto carelessly discarded in the corner of the research room. The swords were piled up haphazardly, some with broken blades, some with intact blades but extinguished Reiatsu, as if they were completely dead; and several others had been disassembled into parts, with the blade, hilt, and guard placed separately on a metal tray, next to which were handwritten labels marked with the experiment number and date.

She withdrew her gaze, responded with a "Yes," turned and walked out of the research room, the door closing gently behind her.

The fact that none of the Soul Reaper present last night were able to Shikai their Zanpakuto has been confirmed countless times. Yet, at this moment, the body within the vessel is displaying an extremely faint but undeniably present Soul Pulse.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi dug out more data and cross-referenced it with the Soul Pulse of Unohana in the container. After an unknown amount of time, the sounds of fighting could be heard from outside the door from time to time, but Mayuri Kurotsuchi remained focused on his research.

"No, this level of Soul Pulse should have been enough to reach the Shikai last night. Could it be that the power has been slowly recovering since then?"

He flipped through the pages faster and faster, his fingers constantly swiping across the screen to bring up earlier research data.

He even dug out the comparative data from when his Zanpakuto was destroyed, placing his Soul Pulse waveform at that time side by side with Unohana's Soul Pulse waveform at this moment. The two curves slowly jumped on the screen, and his finger stopped.

"No, this isn't right either." Mayuri Kurotsuchi's eyes darted rapidly between the two sets of data. "The recovery curve of the Soul Pulse is wrong. Unlike when it was completely blocked, now although the Soul Pulse is recovering, a large portion of it will be taken away immediately."

His fingers tapped a few times on the keyboard, bringing up a new set of charts. "If no anomalies are detected externally, the problem lies internally. Could it be that the materialized Zanpakuto are still absorbing the wielder's Soul Pulse?"

He also wanted to dig out his earlier records of Soul Pulse from when he practiced Bankai to verify this conjecture.

But the sounds of fighting outside had become too loud to ignore—the sharp clang of metal clashing, the shouts of the soldiers, and the dull cracking sound of some huge blade hitting the stone slabs, all surged from the end of the corridor in layers.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi whirled around and the Roar at the doorway, "Shut up! Be quiet!"

There was a sudden moment of silence outside the door.

Then the gate was blown open.

The massive explosion ripped the entire metal door off its frame, along with the surrounding walls. The shockwave, carrying debris and metal fragments, poured into the research lab, tearing a large hole in the roof and letting in the night.

Muramasa stood directly beneath the hole, his white robe fluttering in the aftershocks of the explosion. Behind him stood dozens of Zanpakuto in their physical forms.

A short, diminutive Zanpakuto darted out from behind Muramasa, its gaze finally settling on the pile of carelessly discarded Zanpakuto in the corner. "Muramasa, look!"

Muramasa walked over, squatted down, and picked up a broken sword. His fingers ran over the broken edge—it was so smooth that it almost didn't look like it had been broken by external force.

He gently placed the broken sword back on the ground. "This laceration and the lingering spiritual Soul Pulse it's definitely true."

He stood up and turned to Mayuri Kurotsuchi, his voice suddenly rising. "Captain of the Twelfth Division, Mayuri Kurotsuchi!"

Mayuri Kurotsuchi stood there, arms crossed, a listless expression on his face.

"Simply Ashisogi Jizō isn't enough." Muramasa raised his hand, his long fingernails pointing at the other man. "You are the greatest enemy of us Zanpakuto, who treats us as experimental subjects and toyed with us at Zanpakuto— " He took a step forward, and all the Zanpakuto behind him simultaneously unleashed a soaring Reiatsu. "Today is your death day!"

All the Zanpakuto rushed towards Mayuri Kurotsuchi at the same time, and the research room instantly turned into a battlefield—the shrieking of blades tearing through the air, the shockwaves of colliding Reiatsu, and the sparks from the explosions when experimental equipment was shattered.

At that moment, Nemu also led a group of soldiers in and rushed in, surrounding Mayuri Kurotsuchi.

The soldiers drew their Zanpakuto, holding the blades horizontally in front of them. Nemu stood at the very front, expressionless.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi stood in the center of the encirclement, her fingers tapping a few final keys on the keyboard. "Why are you so slow, Nemu?"

"Lord Mayuri, I'm so sorry."

But there was no time to speak. The Zanpakuto crashed into the Twelfth Division's defenses like a flood bursting its banks. Blade against blade, sparks exploded continuously in the cramped research lab.

Several massive Zanpakuto and slashed, sending the Twelfth Division members flying through the air; some extremely fast Zanpakuto flashed among the members, their different blades drawing dense silver trails in the air.

Amidst this seemingly chaotic battle, two figures silently withdrew from the battlefield at some unknown time.

Muramasa's figure blurred amidst the flashing swords, fading away layer by layer from the edges.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi also disappeared, leaving only the control panel still running its preset program automatically, with new data constantly popping up on the screen.

The focus of the Twelfth Division's protection shifted from their captain to that transparent cylindrical container. The battle raged fiercely around the container, but no attack actually touched it. The Zanpakuto's target never seemed to be this sleeping body from the start—or perhaps they instinctively avoided it.

The data on the main monitor continued to fluctuate, and the green nutrient solution in the container began to slowly descend, receding little by little from the top, revealing the body's long black hair soaked in the liquid.

Long hair lay flat against the scalp, beginning to sway slightly in the air after the nutrient solution had dissipated, as if some deeper power, welling up from within the body, was awakening.

At this moment, a new status indicator lights up on the main display: Wake-up...