Go to the Fourth Division for a Checkup

Kurayashiki Kenpachi stood where he was, unmoving.

He looked down at the young man lying on the ground, then raised his hand to look at the sword he held, then looked down again, then up again.

After repeating this three or five times, the shock on his face gradually turned into bewilderment, confusion, and a trace of... disappointment.

That was it?

The guy who had made his back tingle, made every cell in his body tremble with excitement, and made him think he could finally have a satisfying fight had been brought down by a casual slash from him?

The grip of his hand around the hilt slowly loosened.

The final drop of blood at the sword's tip finally fell, leaving a tiny dark mark in the dust.

"Captain," Ashido's voice pulled him from his daze. "I told you, this guy isn't strong at all."

Ashido had already strode over to the young man, crouching down and carefully turning over the youth who had been lying face-down.

The wound across the young man's chest was exposed. It ran diagonally from beneath his collarbone to his ribs, deep and long, with the flesh split open and blood still gushing out. It was a horrifying sight.

Ashido frowned as a faint green glow appeared over his palms.

He held his hands above the wound, and the green light spread over it.

"My Kaido is mediocre. At most, I can stop the bleeding."

As he worked, he said, "These 'great villains' aren't supposed to be killed by us. Otherwise, the higher-ups will find another excuse to send us on a publicly funded 'vacation' to Hueco Mundo."

There was a hint of helplessness in his tone. Clearly, he had no fondness for that kind of "vacation."

Ashido was actually relieved as well.

It seemed his instincts had been right. This young man was no hidden expert at all—at most, he was a madman a little fiercer than an ordinary great villain. Reiatsu reactions could not lie.

The Shinigami, especially the Thirteen Court Guard Squads, were nominally responsible for maintaining order in Soul Society. Yet there was an unspoken but crucial rule.

They could not casually kill the residents of Rukongai, especially those "great villains" who maintained a certain distorted order in chaotic areas.

Why? Ashido knew. While many ordinary squad members and even some vice-captains were unaware of the details, as the vice-captain of the Eleventh Division, he was qualified to know some of the truth.

A large number of abnormal Wandering Soul deaths would disrupt the balance.

To maintain the stability of the Three Realms—Soul Society, the Human World, and Hueco Mundo—if the number of Wandering Soul deaths in a certain area became abnormal, the Central 46 Chambers might issue an order to dispatch the Thirteen Court Guard Squads into Hueco Mundo for so-called "population adjustment."

Put bluntly, it meant killing a corresponding number of Hollows to make up the deficit.

And in a place like the Zaraki District, having a sufficiently powerful "great villain" entrenched there was, in some sense, a distorted form of "stability."

He could suppress the other restless fools and keep the chaos at a relatively fixed level.

He could die at the hands of another great villain, but he could not easily die at the hands of a Shinigami.

Think about it. If the publicly acknowledged "strongest" person in an area was suddenly killed by an outsider, what would all those similarly powerful "second-in-commands" and "third-in-commands," who had long been itching to make a move, do?

Of course, they would immediately jump out to seize territory. A new round of bloodier and more widespread slaughter would begin at once, and countless Wandering Souls would die.

Therefore, Shinigami had to act with exceptional caution in Rukongai, especially in the higher-numbered districts.

Unless the other party launched an attack and posed a tremendous threat, or there were clear crimes requiring judgment, they should try to "subdue without killing."

The green light in Ashido's hands slowly faded.

The terrifying wound on the young man's chest had not healed, but the bleeding had mostly stopped, leaving only a slow seep of blood.

His life should have been saved. As for whether he would suffer lasting damage or lose much of his strength afterward, that was no longer Ashido's concern.

Ashido stood up, dusted off his hands despite there being no dust on them, and looked toward his captain, who was still staring blankly.

"Let's go, Captain. Looks like this trip was for nothing. We didn't get anything worthwhile out of it."

Kurayashiki Kenpachi took one last deep look at the unconscious young man on the ground. His gaze was complicated, filled with regret, confusion, and an inescapable sense that something was off.

In the end, he said nothing. He merely sighed heavily, sheathed his Zanpakuto with a click, turned around, and started walking.

Ashido followed at his side, watching his captain's dispirited appearance. Even his back seemed to be slumped, and Ashido understood perfectly well.

Of course he understood his captain's feelings.

Kurayashiki Kenpachi, captain of the Eleventh Division, leader of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads' division dedicated to combat.

"Kenpachi" was a title passed down in Soul Society since ancient times, meaning "the strongest sword."

Within the Thirteen Court Guard Squads, that title belonged only to the captain of the Eleventh Division. In a sense, it was synonymous with "the strongest among the Shinigami."

Though that "strongest" referred more to fighting spirit and killing ability, it was enough to show the weight of the title.

Captain Kuroyashiki was usually cheerful and fond of laughing, like a considerate and reliable older brother. Whenever anyone in the division had trouble, he was always willing to lend a hand.

But Ashido knew that was merely the surface—or rather, the side his captain was willing to show others.

Just look at his Zanpakuto, and that terrifying Bankai, Gakurai Corridor, which the Central 46 Chambers had strictly forbidden him from using anywhere within Soul Society.

It was an ability whose essence was to devour everything and destroy all things.

One could only imagine the violence and hunger lurking deep within the soul of someone who possessed such a Bankai.

His captain longed for worthy opponents and battles that could truly satisfy him.

That longing might even surpass the gentleness he displayed in everyday life.

And today, that longing had been raised high, only to be... smashed to pieces.

The greater the expectation, the harsher the disappointment.

The two walked in silence for a long while. After some thought, Ashido spoke to break it.

"Captain, after we return, should we stop by the Fourth Division?"

"Hm?" Kurayashiki Kenpachi seemed distracted. "What would we go to the Fourth Division for? I'm not injured."

He rubbed his stomach. That rusty sword had not even pierced his Shinigami uniform.

"Not because you're injured," Ashido said more seriously. "I mean, we should have a routine examination.

"Perhaps... you've been longing for battle too much, and there's some slight imbalance in your body or perception that even you haven't noticed? It would be reassuring to get checked."

He put it very tactfully, but his meaning was clear.

His severe misjudgment of that young man's strength was evidence of that "imbalance." With his captain's usual eye for such things, he should not have made that mistake.

Kurayashiki Kenpachi paused, reached up to scratch his short hair, and a conflicted expression appeared on his face.

"Is that really necessary? I feel like I'm in great shape. I eat well and sleep well."

"But the misjudgment did happen," Ashido insisted, his voice carrying the seriousness expected of a vice-captain.

"That is something that has almost never happened before, Captain. There's no harm in being cautious."

Kurayashiki Kenpachi looked at Ashido's serious expression, then recalled the extreme contrast of what had just happened. The little confidence he had left began to waver.

Could something really be wrong with me? Is my perception scrambled? Or have I neglected my training lately and let my instincts dull?

"...Fine." He finally relented. There was nothing urgent to do after they returned anyway.

"Then let's have a look. It wouldn't hurt to get checked by Captain Unohana."

The two said no more and accelerated at the same time.

Their figures became two blurred shadows as they swept through the desolate streets and ruins of the Zaraki District, racing toward Seireitei.

Not long after they left.

At the edge of the central clearing in the Zaraki District, more than a dozen pairs of eyes slowly emerged from the shadows of broken houses and behind cracks in the walls.

Those eyes stared fixedly at the young man lying unconscious in a pool of blood at the center of the clearing.

There was no sympathy or concern in their gazes, only the most primal greed, ferocity, and patient waiting for the right moment.

One pair of eyes belonged to the frail man whom Kurayashiki Kenpachi had earlier flung away like garbage.

He licked his cracked lips, and a faint gurgle came from his throat.

They did not speak to one another, merely exchanging silent looks for a moment.

Then, as if they had reached some unspoken agreement.

One, two, three... more than a dozen figures emerged from their hiding places.