The Crooked Roads Without Improvement Are Roads of Genius

Improvement makes strait roads, but the crooked roads without Improvement, are roads of Genius.

--William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (1790-1793)

Night slowly rose over the courtyard of the Fourth Division, gradually swallowing the outlines of the eaves into the twilight.

Marechiyo Ōmaeda lay on the hospital bed by the window, his body wrapped in several bandages, but he was in good spirits. The three Lieutenant, Renji, Shūhei, and Kira, surrounded him by the bed.

"Marechiyo Ōmaeda, you're really amazing. You managed to defeat Captain Komamura's Tenken with just two people." Shūhei crossed his arms, his tone full of genuine admiration.

Marechiyo Ōmaeda leaned back on the pillow, his hands resting on his stomach, and clicked his tongue. "I didn't play much of a role in the battle at all. I passed out early on, and when I woke up, the Tenken had already been dealt with."

"Marechiyo Ōmaeda, Ego praise with your head held high. Don't be modest; it's unpleasant to watch." Tetsuzaemon Iba pushed open the door, carrying a bag of fruit, and placed it on the bedside table. "I've read the briefing. You and Gegetsuburi were practically at the forefront the whole time. I'm not exaggerating. I've seen the captain's Bankai several times; it's not something you can just face with courage."

"Exactly, Marechiyo Ōmaeda. We're both Lieutenant, do you think we don't know how strong the captain is?" Renji bent down and patted Marechiyo Ōmaeda's thigh hard enough to make the latter wince in pain. "If we say he's strong, then he's strong. What are you being modest about?"

Marechiyo Ōmaeda's mouth twitched from the slap, but his mind was elsewhere. "I have a feeling that if I see that guy Kou in the end, it can't be that he crawled out of hell to pick me up, right? What's going on?"

Meanwhile, Hanatarō stood in Retsu Unohana's office, his hands neatly folded in front of him, his head slightly lowered, his chin almost touching his chest.

"... That concludes the overview of our trip to Peony Mountain."

Unohana sat behind the table, holding the report on the damage to Peony Mountain handed to her by Hanatarō, with Isane standing beside her.

"You've had a tough time, Hanatarō. I never expected to run into something like this just while going to replenish some medicinal herbs. You don't need to go on patrol tonight. Get some rest," Isane comforted Hanatarō.

Hanatarō lowered his head. "Ah... yes... I understand, thank you, Lieutenant Kotetsu."

Unohana closed the report, looked up, and frowned slightly. "Yamada Shichika, what's wrong?"

"Captain... n-nothing..." Hanatarō tapped his cheek lightly with his fingers, laughing awkwardly, "I just... the thought of Lieutenant Marechiyo Ōmaeda falling down, and me all alone, unable to even launch a single effective attack..."

Hanatarō realized he shouldn't have thought that way and quickly changed his tune, saying, "I'm really sorry, but for someone like me to crave the power to fight is just too shameless. I bet the captain thinks so too... I'll go back now."

Isane frowned immediately, about to speak, but Unohana beat her to it.

"I don't think so, and I never will," Unohana said seriously. "Put away your self-deprecating thoughts, lift your head, Hanatarō Yamada, 7th Seat of the Fourth Division of the Gotei 13."

Hanatarō looked up and Unohana's calm eyes. His silly grin vanished, replaced by an unwavering seriousness that left him no room to look away.

"Don't think about whether you're qualified, don't think about whether you'll fail, those things are meaningless." Unohana placed the report on the table, her fingers interlaced. "If you feel you're lacking something, then make up for it. Don't deny yourself before you even try. Go and become stronger, Hanatarō Yamada!"

"Yes!" Emboldened by Unohana's affirmation, Hanatarō left the office...

Sylvan sat on a secluded set of steps behind the Medical Station, leaning against a pillar, with his jet-black one-handed knight's sword beside him and a pot of iced drink on the steps.

He finished the last drop of iced wine in his cup, placed the sword horizontally on his lap, and slowly ran his fingers along the ancient inscriptions on the blade's spine, feeling the rhythmic pulse emanating from deep within the sword.

Looking at the purple eye on the scabbard, he recalled the scene of Rook fighting against the Tenken Wisdom King during the day.

"Before our arrival, he had been fighting alone against the Bankai Tenken for a long time. After returning by establishing Soul Link, his power increased by an astonishing amount."

Furthermore, Rook's return comes with a huge increase in his Reiatsu limit, elevating our combat power to a new level.

Sylvan suddenly felt a pang of panic, as if Rain was in a predicament. He followed Rain's Soul Link and, through the shared perspective, saw Rain being held in the hand of a pink-haired girl. "What a beautiful Big Bird!"

"Kusajishi eight thousand miles away!?" Rain couldn't help but feel a little flustered when she realized who had caught her. But then again, who else would be so idle as to jump into the sky to catch birds for fun?

"So the Big Bird can talk? That's rare." Yachiru completely ignored Rain's reluctance and grabbed Rain, playing with him for a while.

Sylvan, however, calmly watched all of this unfold through the Soul Link:

"Rain's Reiatsu right now is like a storm compressed to its limit."

Sylvan recalled the battle during the day, "And on the Peony Mountain, without having to worry about the distribution of Reiatsu, Rain's Kidō power, accuracy, and release speed all reached a new level."

"It's even possible to infuse prepared Kidō into the Blade of Power during battle, enhancing Blade of Power attack power."

"Hey! Sylvan, I know you're watching, why don't you come and help me out? What are you muttering about over there!" Unable to bear the humiliation, Rain shouted to Sylvan through their Soul Link.

However, Sylvan didn't respond. Frustrated, Rain used the Soul Link to call out to Oren: "Oren! Where are you? Quickly use your spatial teleportation ability to do something!"

Oren had gone to find Fon Shaoling as soon as he returned to Seireitei, and was now lying on Fon Shaoling lap, enjoying her "soothing service": "Ah? No, space displacement requires releasing Reiatsu to enter Fon Shaoling mode, it's too much trouble. It's just playing with a kid for a while, I can bear with it."

"And Oren too." Sylvan was also observing Oren's situation through the Soul Link. In the Second Division Captain's office, which he knew all too well, Fon Shaoling was unusually not behind her desk, but sitting on the sofa, brushing Oren's fur with a comb.

"Oren's abilities are the most agile. Now, the thorns and Summoned Swords he throws from a distance have a similar spatial structure, which can be used as teleportation nodes for Oren and me to move around."

Even after reaching full liberation, Oren, Rain, Rook, and I can freely switch positions, greatly improving mobility during team battles.

Finally, it's just me.

Sylvan lowered his head. His once frail body had become light and resilient, and his Blade of Power had been transformed from a withered and twisted cane into a jet-black one-handed knight's longsword.

"And..."

With a thought from Sylvan, the one-handed longsword in his hand immediately transformed back into the shape of a cane, and the scabbard that Rook had transformed into also became the sheath of the cane's handle.

"Now the Blade of Power can switch between a sword and a cane at my will, and I have a feeling that if I drive it with all my might, the Blade of Power can return to its original form."

Besides that, there's one more thing..."

Sylvan stretched out one hand forward, fingers spread.

A faint ripple of Reishi spread through the air, and a beautifully bound book appeared out of thin air in his palm, the gold-embossed "V" on the cover gleaming softly in the moonlight.

"The Book of V"

Before Rook's return, this book could only exist in his Inner World; now it can be constructed in the real world.

However, it seems somewhat different from the state of Inner World within...

Sylvan flipped through the pages; they were blank. When he opened the book in his Inner World, although he didn't read it carefully, he could at least see some words flowing through it.

Now, the entire book seems to have been reset by some force, leaving only an empty framework.

"Try injecting Reiatsu..."

Sylvan held the book, his Reiatsu seeping in along its spine.

The pages began to turn automatically, returning to the title page, and the contents that began to appear in the book surprised Sylvan.

The first page features a painting, and the person in the painting is Ichigo Kurosaki.

The painting is divided into two parts, one black and one white, by two diagonal lines: one for the Tensa Zangetsu.

The top half is Ichigo's profile; the boy with short orange hair has a slightly furrowed brow and his eyes hold the stubbornness that he never gives up.

The lower half is another face that looks exactly like Ichigo's. The pale face has a twisted and unrestrained smile, and the black and white pupils are full of fighting spirit. It is White.

Interestingly, next to each of the two profiles, the face of Zangetsu is faintly visible.

The two Zangetsu also have different appearances— the Zangetsu on White's side has the classic image of sunglasses and a stubble, while Ichigo Zangetsu on Ichigo's side has taken off his sunglasses and has a thick mustache.

However, no matter how strange the painting was, it was still just a painting. Sylvan couldn't see its purpose. He tried injecting Reiatsu again, and the page turned to the second page.

This page depicts Rangiku (a type of wild chrysanthemum).

Rangiku only occupies half of the page. The two Zanpakuto stand vertically, dividing the entire page in half. On the left is Rangiku herself, standing at the edge of the image divided by the Zanpakuto. Behind her is the crooked little wooden house that Sylvan had seen in his Inner World. On the right is a blank space.

The two Zanpakuto used to divide the screen are, firstly, Haineko; and secondly, which Sylvan is more familiar with, with an "S"-shaped tsuba and a long, silver-white blade—that is Shinsō.

"Rangiku's Inner World has also been recorded," Sylvan whispered. "Then this blank half... is it because Gin's Inner World hasn't been explored yet? What will the next page be?"

He continued to channel his Reiatsu, and the pages turned to the third page.

The drawing on this page stunned Sylvan, because the person in the drawing was Muramasa.

The man in the white robe, with dark brown hair and deep-set eyes, held his Zanpakuto, one hand in his pocket. His eyes, filled with bloody tears, stared straight out of the scene. Behind him were countless illusory faces, as if they were silently roaring something. The scene was dark and oppressive, as if the entire page was soaked with some indescribable heaviness.

"Why is Muramasa here?" Sylvan moved the book closer to make sure he hadn't mistaken him for someone else.

"Because he intruded into my Inner World?" Sylvan asked himself, answering, "But... the order is wrong. If it was recorded because he intruded into my Inner World, then Muramasa intruded first, so he should appear on the first page."

Sylvan frowned and injected Reiatsu several more times, but the pages remained unmoved, and everything after the fourth page was blank.

He closed the book, placed it on his lap, and looked up at the starry sky above the Fourth Division.

What do these three paintings represent...?

Meanwhile, in a ruin outside the Fourth Division, the buildings were half destroyed in the battle last night, most of the walls collapsed, and only a few lonely pillars supported the remaining roofs, with moonlight pouring down from the holes.

Rangiku stood in the center of the ruins, while Haineko stood opposite her.

"One more time." Rangiku raised her Zanpakuto, and silver-gray dust slowly gathered around her.

The Haineko looked a little tired. "Auntie, you've been practicing for most of the day, isn't Bankai still a bit too early for you?"

"I said we have to practice, and that means we have to practice. Just cooperate obediently." Rangiku's forehead twitched.

"Yes, yes—" the Haineko drawled, his tone full of perfunctoriness.

Rangiku closed her eyes and attempted to channel her Reiatsu into her Zanpakuto.

Logically, after she and Gin's soul fragments were Integration, the defects in her soul were repaired, and with so many years of accumulated power, the path to Bankai should have been opened.

However, Haineko is in an extremely awkward situation—due to the lingering effects of Muramasa's abilities, she is temporarily unable to return to Rangiku's Inner World, and her state is stuck at the point when she left Rangiku, making it impossible for her to help Rangiku train for Bankai.

"Again." Rangiku opened her eyes.

The Haineko sighed and muttered, "I'm right here. No matter how hard you try to materialize, what can you possibly create?"

In the backyard of Qinghui Clothing Shop, far outside the Seireitei, a clearing had been created. Traces of the recent battle remained on the stone slabs: deep knife marks, rumpled soil, and several flowerpots shattered by Reiatsu.

Shimizu stood in the center of the open space, panting heavily. His clothes were soaked with sweat, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and stray hairs clung to his skin. Daku held the knife in his hand, the water ripples still slowly flowing across its surface.

Opposite him was a man in a grey British suit and wearing a fox mask, who was leisurely leaning against a pillar. At that moment, a water ball more than a meter tall came up and served tea to the two of them.

"I never expected that Keiko's clients would include such a master as Mr. Ichi." Shimizu straightened up, downed the tea that Daku had offered in one gulp, and bowed slightly to him. "I am truly grateful for your guidance today."

"Oh, not at all," the man replied in a light Kyoto dialect, taking the tea and smoothing his coat. "I'm just practicing with the boss, and I get this outfit for free. I've actually gotten a good deal, hahaha."

He lifted his mask slightly and took a sip of tea. "However, Mr. Shimizu, there's something that's been bothering me."

"Please speak."

"As everyone knows, the most immediate way to quickly improve one's strength is to develop and master the abilities of one's Zanpakuto."

The man put his water glass aside and continued, "But you're giving me a strange feeling right now—it's like you know exactly where your Zanpakuto terms of development, yet you're trying to forcefully change that direction. If you continue like this, it will have the opposite effect on your strength."

Shimizu paused, her expression somewhat unnatural. "You actually figured it out."

"Oh?" The man tilted his head.

"Actually, about two months ago, I was still developing Daku's abilities in that direction." Shimizu's fingers tightened slightly on the hilt of the sword. "But..."

"But what?" Seeing that Shimizu was hesitant to continue, the man tugged at the sleeve of his coat and waved it in front of Shimizu. "Boss, if you're hiding something, I can't help you. Giving me such well-made clothes for free would be a loss for you."

Shimizu was silent for a moment, then gritted his teeth and said, "You should also know about him, right? The notorious criminal who defected from Soul Society two months ago— Sōsuke Aizen."

The man nodded, his tone unchanged. "Of course I know."

"The development direction for Daku was suggested to me by him when he was a guest lecturer at the Shin'ō Academy." A hint of undisguised disgust appeared on Shimizu's face.

"Then what?"

"And then?" Shimizu looked up, somewhat puzzled. "This is the development direction provided by that sinner. Don't you think it's unacceptable?"

"Having such a fastidious mentality won't do, boss." The man shook his head, putting his hands in his coat pockets. His tone remained light, but tinged with a sigh, "Just because the person who pointed out your direction for growth is your enemy, you're going to refuse to grow? What's the difference between that and trapping yourself in your own web?"

"But what if the direction he's pointing in is wrong?" Shimizu pressed.

"But what if he's right?" the man countered.

Shimizu opened her mouth, but remained silent for a moment.

"Just because the enemy is right about one thing doesn't mean he's right about everything. There's no need for that."

"Besides, developing Zanpakuto's power is a process of self-dialogue." The man straightened up from the pillar and took a step closer to Shimizu. "Try it with confidence. If you're doing it wrong, Daku will tell you."

Daku, who was standing to the side, nodded in agreement. Shimizu lowered his head, looking at the knife in his hand, and took a deep breath. "I'll try."

The man, Gin Ichimaru, looked at Shimizu, who had agreed but still seemed somewhat reluctant, and sighed softly, "Koko, your friend has potential, but he's a bit stubborn. The road ahead is long and arduous... sigh..."

And almost at the same moment.

Amidst the ruins of the Fourth Division, Rangiku, who had been trying various methods to cultivate her Bankai but made no progress, sighed in frustration, "Sigh... absolutely no progress..."

When their emotions coincidentally synchronized, Soul Link was quietly established between them. Rangiku's hand stopped on the hilt of her Zanpakuto, and her expression beneath the silver mask froze for a moment.

Because they both heard a sigh they shouldn't have heard.

"Um?