Yan Si had just raised his feet, but before they fell down, two figures appeared from the left and right sides at the same time.
It didn't crawl out of the sand, it didn't fall from the sky, it just walked out.
It's like walking from behind the curtain to the center of the stage, like walking through the wall.
It's like they've always been standing there, but you haven't seen them.
The one on the left is standing five steps away from Yan Si.
The woman has long black hair braided into thick braids, hanging down from the back of her head to her waist, with the tips of her hair swaying gently in the wind.
Wearing a pair of small round glasses, the lenses are very thick and reflect in the dark red light, making it difficult to see the eyes behind.
The curvature of the chest is very exaggerated, and the fabric of Shinigami uniform is stretched very tightly.
She held a child's knife in her hand. The blade was very long, longer than her height. The tip of the knife hung down to the ground, poking a small dent in the sand.
There are black patterns on her face.
It starts from the cheekbones, extends to the temples, and spreads to the roots of the ears, like a vine, like a tree root, like some kind of ancient totem.
But those patterns did not ruin her face, but instead added an indescribable... weird beauty to her. Yan Si looked away from her and looked to the right.
The man, standing in front of Aizen, is closer than the one on the left, only three steps away.
He has a square face and a very hard jawline, as if cut with a knife.
Her head was held upright, her hair was combed meticulously, and the hair gel shone brightly under the dark red light.
Wearing a pair of square-framed glasses, the frame is black and very thick, matching his square face, it looks like it was carved from the same mold.
His hands were hanging by his sides, his right hand resting on the Zanpakutō at his waist, his thumb resting on the blade, so he could draw the sword at any time.
He also has patterns on his face.
Yan Si withdrew his gaze and looked at the woman on the left again.
"First Generation Eighth Division Captain, Katori Batsu'unsai."
He turned his head and looked at the man on his right.
"First Generation Third Division Captain, Iwahara Kinroku."
The woman's eyebrows raised. She tilted her head, and her eyes covered by lenses looked up and down at Yan Si, from her head to her feet, and from her feet to her head, as if she was looking at an incomprehensible antique.
"Oh." Her voice was low, with a lazy and careless tone, "How can you, a human who hangs out with Xu, know us?"
Her eyes paused on Yan Si, then moved away, scanning Aizen who was standing in the distance, and Espada who were wearing white uniforms, and then looked back.
"Are you really a human?" She frowned slightly, as if she had encountered some unexplainable problem, "Why does it feel like it, but it doesn't seem like it..."
She tilted her head and thought for a moment before finding a comparable object.
"It feels completely different from Soul King."
Yan Si smiled, not the kind of polite smile, but the kind of "being praised" kind of smile, with the corners of his mouth raised and his eyes bent, with a bit of pride and a bit of casualness.
"I am a more pure human being than Soul King."
He paused, put his hands into his trouser pockets, and shrugged his shoulders slightly.
"As for why I met you, I just read a lot of books."
"Reading?" Katori Batsu'unsai put his finger on his chin, and blinked his eyes behind the lenses twice, as if he was thinking about something, "As a human, you can also enter Central Library?"
She immediately thought of that place. In the center of Soul Society Seireitei, there was a building protected by Nobles power and had existed for countless years.
It contains all the records of Soul Society, including information about their captains First Generation... names, appearances, Zanpakutō, and even some unknown habits.
Before Thirteen Court Guard Squads appeared, Central Library already existed.
That is the property of Nobles, a symbol of power, and a place that ordinary people cannot enter in their lifetime.
"Human." Katori Batsu'unsai's eyes returned to Yan Si, looking up and down, "You don't look like Quincy, and you seem to be the leader, which is really strange."
She looked over Yan Si's shoulder and looked at Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto in the distance.
Ryūjin Jakka was inserted into the sand at his feet. The flames on the blade had subsided, leaving only the dark red residual heat beating at the butt of the blade.
But Katori Batsu'unsai remembers that when he first entered Hell, the person standing behind Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto... was this human being.
Chōjirō Sasakibe, Lieutenant who has followed Yamamoto for thousands of years, are all standing behind him.
This position has already explained many problems.
In her memory, Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto is an out-and-out lunatic.
Even in the eyes of these lunatics, Yamamoto is the craziest and strongest one. More than half of the First Generation captains were killed and defeated by him before they were willing to join Thirteen Court Guard Squads and call him Captain-General.
And now, that madman has a human standing behind him.
Katori Batsu'unsai's eyes withdrew from Yamamoto and landed on Yan Si.
She saw him observing the battlefield, analyzing the situation, and issuing orders.
Kenpachi Zaraki, Unohana Retsu, Kuchiki Byakuya, Chiziro Kenpachi... the actions of those people seemed to be part of his plan.
She lowered her fingers from her chin and tightened her grip on the handle of the child's knife.
"I can't let you run around."
The tip of the child's knife was raised from the sand and pointed at Yan Si's chest.
The blade is very long, glowing coldly under the dark red light. There is a thin blood groove on the blade, extending from the tandem to the tip.
Yan Si put his hands in his trouser pockets, and his large flower pants were fluttering gently in the wind... Compared with those Shinigami uniform people around him who were wearing white uniforms, his outfit was indeed too casual.
Short sleeves, floral pants, flip-flops.
It was like walking directly into Hell from the beach. But his eyes were shining.
Aizen's eyes are also glowing.
The two of them looked at each other almost at the same time... Yan Si and Aizen, a light flashed in their pupils at the same time.
It's not a coincidence, it's not a tacit understanding, it's an instinctive reaction to thinking of the same thing.
Although these First Generation dolls have their own memories, fighting instincts, awe of Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto, and curiosity about strangers... but in essence, they are the embodiment of Hell's power.
Their behavior is not based on their own will, but based on the instructions of Hell.
And what is the command of Hell? It is to intercept. It is to kill the intruder.
It's a secret that prevents anyone from finding out about it.
So, they took the initiative to stop and intercept the whereabouts of Yan Si and Aizen... What does that mean?
Explain that the direction Yan Si and Aizen are going is the place Hell does not want them to go.
Explain that there is something in that direction that Hell doesn't want them to find.
Explanation... There may really be a way to deal with Hell out there. The corners of Yan Si's mouth raised slightly.
"It's not time for me to take action yet."
His voice was very soft and casual, as if he was saying that the weather is nice today.
Then he turned his head and looked at the white figure standing not far away.
"Ulquiorra, can you help?"
Whoosh...!
The figure of Ulquiorra disappeared from the place, and the next moment it appeared in front of Katori Batsu'unsai.
The distance between the two is less than two meters.
He stood there with his hands in his trouser pockets, his white uniform fluttering gently in the dark red wind.
His face was expressionless, and there was only indifference in his green eyes, like two bottomless wells or two frozen lakes. The green light in his left eye was flickering.
"Woman." His voice was cold, like a knife cutting through glass, "Back off."
Katori Batsu'unsai tilted her head and looked at him. Her eyes moved from Ulquiorra to Yan Si, then from Yan Si to Aizen, and finally back to Ulquiorra.
"Yeah?" Her voice was long and drawn out, with a tone of exaggerated surprise, "It's really weird to actually listen to this human's orders."
Her eyes deliberately glanced at Aizen next to her, with a trace of inquiry in her eyes behind the lenses.
Of course she could see that the man wearing a white uniform and standing in front of Espada with his hands in his pockets was the leader of Hueco Mundo.
His uniform is the same as those of Xu, white, tailored and with dark stripes on the collar.
And the human wearing short-sleeved pants and floral pants stood next to him, like a person from two worlds.
"No."
Ulquiorra's voice is still so cold.
"I only listen to Lord Aizen's orders."
He pulled out his Zanpakuto, and the sound of the sword being unsheathed was very soft, like the wind blowing through the bamboo branches, or like water drops falling into a deep pool.
The blade is long and slender, glowing dimly under the dark red light.
"Lord Aizen has already given instructions..." He raised his head and looked directly at Katori Batsu'unsai with his green eyes.
"When he has no orders, Master Yan Si's orders are equivalent to Lord Aizen's orders."
Katori Batsu'unsai's eyebrows raised.
She looked at Aizen, then at Yan Si, then at Ulquiorra.
The reason why Hueco Mundo listened to Soul Society's words is here.
After the Hueco Mundo war ended, these virtual people returned to their own territory, without taking advantage of the situation, without seeking revenge, or even making any demands...
If Aizen followed Kaname Tōsen's orders, no one Espada would listen or be convinced.
They grew up in fighting, evolved in devouring, and crawled out from the edge of life and death countless times.
They will only obey those who are stronger and will only recognize those who are stronger than them.
And Aizen recognizes Yan Si.
Aizen's orders are to obey Yan Si's orders, and Espada will listen and be convinced, because they have seen Yan Si's power with their own eyes, seen him and Aizen standing at the same height, and seen him kill Yhwach like an ant.
What's more, Yan Si has never regarded Xu as a monster. In his books, in his words, in his actions... Xu and Shinigami are the same as humans.
We all have the right to live, we all have the freedom to choose, and we all have the meaning of existence.
Therefore, this Hell expedition did not go to Hueco Mundo to gather manpower after Aizen was released.
It was Yan Si who directly greeted Hueco Mundo, and Espada decided who would come.
Ulquiorra moved.
It's not Flash Step, it's Sonído.
The figure disappeared on the spot, without sound or trace, without even moving the air.
The next moment, he had appeared behind Katori Batsu'unsai, pulled out the knife from his waist, slashed horizontally, and the blade struck the back of her neck.
Katori Batsu'unsai There is no looking back.
She flipped her wrist, and the childish knife turned in a circle in her hand. The tip of the knife went around from the front to the back, lifted it from bottom to top, and slashed towards Ulquiorra behind her.
Bang...!
The blades collided, and sparks flew everywhere. Katori Batsu'unsai's body spun, and the child's knife turned like a windmill in her hand, one knife after another, one knife after another, in an endless stream.
The blade cut through the air, making a sharp neighing sound, like countless birds chirping at the same time.
Ulquiorra kept blocking. The sound of the blades colliding was as dense as raindrops, clanging, clanging, clanging, one after another without stopping.
His footsteps are moving, not retreating, but moving sideways, pulling the battlefield away from Yan Si and Aizen.
He didn't have Resurrección. He didn't free the Zanpakuto, he didn't use Soul Jade Form, and he didn't even release Cero.
Just use the most basic slashing attacks to deal with Sonído and Katori Batsu'unsai.
He heard the analysis of Aizen and Yan Si just now.
These First Generation captains are puppets, the embodiment of Hell's power. Killing them has no meaning and will only consume your own Spiritual Power.
What we really have to deal with is Hell itself.
What Aizen and Yan Si want to do is to find the heart of Hell.
His mission is not to kill Katori Batsu'unsai, but to hold her back.
Use the minimum consumption to delay the longest time. Two figures flickered on the sand, sword lights intertwined, sparks flew, and they moved towards the pile of rocks in the distance.
The road is cleared.
On the other side, Nelliel has also moved.
The moment Iwahara Kinroku appeared, her figure disappeared from behind Aizen.
Her long green hair drew an arc in the wind, and the goat horn mask on her head glowed dimly under the dark red light.
She landed in front of Iwahara Kinroku, the Zanpakuto in her hand had been unsheathed, and the tip of the knife was pointed at his throat.
"Your opponent is me."
Her voice was not high but firm.
There was no murderous intention in those green eyes, only a calm and serious "I won't let you pass".
Iwahara Kinroku pushed up his glasses, narrowed his eyes behind the lenses, and looked up and down at the woman in front of him.
"Xu?" His voice was very low, like a stone rolling down a hillside, "How dare a Xu stop me?"
Nelliel didn't answer, she had already swung out her knife. Iwahara Kinroku drew her knife to block, bang...! The two of them retreated and charged forward at the same time.
The sword light flashed, and the figures staggered and moved in another direction.
The road is again vacant.
But it was only empty for a moment.
A figure emerged from the sand, as if something was lifting him up from below, as if a tree had grown from the ground itself.
Baldhead!
The figure's head was shiny, reflecting in the dark red light.
There are two slender braids on the back of the head, hanging from behind the ears to the chest. The ends of the hair are braided very thinly and tied with a red rope.
He has a very strong figure, with shoulders as broad as door panels and a round belly that stretches Shinigami uniform's buttons.
There is a red U-shaped pattern on the face. The pattern is red and very bright. When paired with the black pattern on the face, it looks indescribably... beautiful.
He didn't hold a sword in his hand, but he had a Zanpakutō hanging on his waist.
He stood there, blocking Yan Si and Aizen, like a wall. "First Generation Twelfth Division Captain." Yan Si's voice was very calm, "Zenteiji Yūhin."
Zenteiji Yūhin's mouth is open, ready to speak...
"Ahhhhhh...!"
A burst of crazy laughter exploded from the side, like someone locking a group of mad dogs in an iron barrel and shaking them, like someone scratching their nails on the blackboard to make the most piercing sound.
Ilfort Grantz.
The man who had been standing at the back of the line, holding his shoulders and raising his head, intoxicated with something unknown, seemed to be ignited by something at this moment.
His eyes were wide open, his pupils were bloodshot, and he grinned from the corners of his mouth to the base of his ears, revealing two rows of uneven teeth.
His body was shaking, from his shoulders to his fingers, from his waist to his toes, as if he was having a high fever, and something was struggling to come out of his body.
"Hell...!" His voice was too sharp to be human, like the sound of shattering metal rubbing against glass, "Hell...!"
He stretched his hands towards his face and clasped his upper and lower jaws with his fingers.
Then... use force.
Crack. The sound of cracking bones was very crisp and could be heard far away in the open desert.
His mouth was pulled open, and the angle between his upper and lower jaws exceeded 180 degrees. The corners of his mouth were torn, and blood poured out from the tear, flowing down his chin and dripping on the sand, hissing and smoking.
But there was still a sound coming from his throat, not a scream, but a laugh.
Crazy and hysterical, like a laugh that squeezes all the air out of the lungs.
Zenteiji Yūhin's brows furrowed.
He has seen madmen, and he is a madman himself.
In First Generation Thirteen Court Guard Squads, no one is normal.
They kill like hemp and are bloodthirsty. With a knife, they can cut from the east to the west of Rukongai. They can cut until their hands become soft, the knife curls up, and the enemy turns around and runs away when they see their shadow.
But this virtual one in front of me... is different.
His madness is not fighting madness, nor bloodthirsty madness, but a deeper and more essential madness that chills people to the very core.
It was like standing on the edge of a cliff looking down, like putting his hand into a black hole and groping, like something was rotting, fermenting and expanding in his body and might explode at any time.
"Is there something wrong with this guy's brain?" Zenteiji Yūhin looked at Aizen, with a hint of uncertainty in his voice. Aizen stood not far away, with his hands in his trouser pockets, and that ever-gentle smile on his face.
His eyes swept over Ilfort, landing on the torn mouth and the trembling body.
Then he looked at Zenteiji Yūhin.
"He has a much smarter brain than you."
Zenteiji Yūhin's pupils shrank.
I was not stimulated by the content of this sentence, but by the tone in which Aizen said this sentence... calm and casual, as if he was stating a fact.
No ridicule, no provocation, no unnecessary emotions.
Just stating a fact.
A fact that made him very uncomfortable.
"What...!"
His right hand grasped the hilt of the Zanpakutō at his waist, and his fingers tightened and veins popped out.
The blade was pulled out an inch from the scabbard, and dark red light leaked from the gap in the scabbard. But his hand stopped.
It's not because of Aizen, it's because of that virtual one who is going crazy.
Ilfort Grantz's body is changing.
It's not Hollowification, it's not Resurrección, it's... something is taking shape inside his body, squirming and struggling, trying to get out.
His mouth was still open, as wide as it could be, until the corners of his mouth were torn apart and his jaw was dislocated.
It was no longer a mouth, but a hole, an entrance to an unknown space.
A hand stretched out from inside.
She is pale and slender, with long fingers and neatly manicured nails.
It looks like a woman's hand, but also like an artist's hand, like a hand that has never done rough work or held a knife.
Then a second hand reached out.
The same paleness, the same slenderness, the same slenderness.
He held Ilfort's upper and lower jaws with both hands and pulled them apart. The mouth opened even wider, big enough to fit a basketball in, and big enough to see the black squirming thing deep in the throat.
The man is crawling out.
First the head, then the shoulders, then the upper body.
He is like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, like a cicada emerging from its shell, and like a baby born from its mother's womb.
He landed on the ground, stepping on the red sand.
Bare feet, fair skin, hair spread over shoulders.
He was wearing a white robe, very thin and light, fluttering in the wind like mist and water waves.
He took a deep breath. His chest puffed up, his shoulders lifted, his head tilted up, and his eyes closed.
The breath was deep and slow, as if the entire Hell air was being sucked into the lungs.
Then he breathed it out.
"Ah..."
The sigh was very light and satisfying, like waking up from a long nightmare, like finally returning to a long-lost hometown. "Is this the smell of Hell?"
He opened his eyes and looked at Yan Si.
The corners of his mouth were slightly raised, with an arc that made it unclear whether it was a smile or something.
"It's really strange."
Then he turned around, faced Yan Si and Aizen, bent down slightly, and pressed his right hand on his chest.
"Ninth Espada, Szayelaporro·Glanz, see above."
Zenteiji Yūhin's eyes widened.
His hand was still holding the handle of the knife, and the knife was only pulled out an inch, but his body froze, as if he was nailed to the spot by something.
Not because of fear, but because... disgusting.
"What the hell!"
Zenteiji Yūhin exploded with roar, and the sand beneath his feet was shaken and splashed around.
His sword was finally unsheathed, and the blade was wrapped with a dark red light. He rushed forward, and the sword was slashed from the top of his head with the sound of wind, whistling, and determination to split the disgusting thing in front of him in half.
Szayelaporro did not hide.
He didn't even look at Zenteiji Yūhin.
His eyes fell on Yan Si, and saw that there was no unexpected expression on Yan Si's face...
There was no surprise, no doubt, not even the curiosity of "Why are you here?"
"As expected." Szayelaporro shook his head slightly, and the curvature of the corners of his mouth deepened a little, "I still haven't deceived you, Master Yan Si."
Poof...!
Zenteiji Yūhin's knife penetrated Szayelaporro's heart.
The tip of the knife came out from the back, and it was filled with blood. The black blood was almost invisible under the dark red light.
Szayelaporro looked down at the knife on his chest, then raised his head and looked at Zenteiji Yūhin.
laughed.
He raised his right hand, opened his palm, and stuffed it into Zenteiji Yūhin's open mouth. His fingers were very long and thin, like five white snakes, burrowing down his throat.
"Ahem, cough, cough...!"
Zenteiji Yūhin's eyes widened to the limit, and his pupils shrank to the size of a pinhead.
He drew the knife sharply and retreated, his feet kicked out two deep holes in the sand, and his body was ejected backwards, widening the distance.
He was bent over, holding his knees with his hands, breathing heavily.
There is something crawling, squirming, and burrowing deeper in my throat.
He stretched out his fingers and dug into his throat, but couldn't get anything out, only thick and sweet liquid gushes out of his throat.
Szayelaporro stood there, the wound on his chest healing.
Black patterns grew from the edge of the wound, like countless tiny snakes, re-suturing the torn flesh.
After a few seconds, the wound was intact as before.
He raised his right hand and snapped his fingers.
Bang...!Zenteiji Yūhin's belly bulged.
It's not flatulence, it's like something pushing inside, pushing out from the inside, like a fetus kicking its legs inside the mother's body, like something is about to break out of its shell.
His eyes widened.
My stomach swelled again.
Bigger and harder, like someone was punching inside.
The third time.
Bang...!
My stomach exploded.
Shinigami uniform's cloth fragments flew around, and blood and internal organ fragments poured out from the breach and scattered all over the floor.
A white thing crawled out from inside, covered in blood and mucus, like a newborn baby, like a baby fished out of amniotic fluid.
But that is false.
A white mask, black empty eye sockets, and a hissing sound coming from his mouth. Szayelaporro tilted his head, looking at the void and the black patterns wrapped around its body.
"It doesn't seem possible."
His voice was calm, with a hint of disappointment, like opening a beautiful gift box only to find it was empty.
"This power cannot be absorbed even by parasitism."
He snapped his fingers again.
Snap...!
The void exploded, white fragments flew around, and black patterns scattered in the air.
Zenteiji Yūhin's body begins to reorganize.
The fragments scattered on the sand were glowing, being pulled by something, and gathering towards the center.
Bones are put back into place, muscles are sutured, and skin is healed.
Black patterns grew out of the wound, like countless hands, putting the torn body back together again.
He stood up, covered in blood and his eyes were red, like Evil Spirit who had just crawled out from the deepest depths of Hell. "You...!"
His voice came out of his throat.
Szayelaporro didn't look at him.
His eyes moved from Yan Si to Aizen, and then back to Aizen.
Then he turned around and walked away.
It's not about escaping, it's about "drawing away".
Like Ulquiorra, like Nelliel, pull the enemy away from Aizen and Yan Si, far away, and out of sight.
Zenteiji Yūhin chased after him.
Two figures streaked across the sand, one behind the other, moving towards the rubble pile to the south.
The light of the sword flashed, and the sound of explosions came, one after another, getting farther and farther away.
Szayelaporro glanced back while running.
The figures of Aizen and Yan Si have turned into two small dots, standing on the sand. The corners of his mouth turned up.
After being out of sight, he could better study Hell.
There is no need to report to anyone, no need to explain to anyone, no need to share his findings with anyone.
Every grain of sand, every stone, every gust of wind here is unique and has never been seen before.
A sample worthy of a lifetime of study.
He put his hand into the pocket of his white robe and touched a small glass bottle.
Empty, waiting to be filled.