After returning from the First Division Barracks, Su Feng politely declined Rangiku Matsumoto's invitation to drink with courtesans.
In his words, "What's the point of drinking with courtesans if I'm not allowed to go see Kikuhime Tayuu and the others? I'm not going!"
When she heard that, Rangiku Matsumoto nearly drew her sword and chopped Su Feng's head off.
She had finally worked up the courage to make the first move, only for him to brush her off with words like that.
It was enough to make her chest ache with anger.
Ninth Division Barracks.
The captain's private dojo.
Su Feng plunged straight in and began a long-overdue session of sword meditation.
The dojo walls were covered in intricate Kido Incantations, forming simulated binding spells that sealed off leaking spiritual pressure while also providing a certain degree of protection against prying eyes.
Training was an extremely important matter for Shinigami.
Especially sword meditation.
Su Feng sat cross-legged on a grayish-white cushion, laying his Zanpakuto across his knees. One hand rested lightly on the guard while the other stroked the blade. As he calmed his breath and focused his mind, he slowly closed his eyes.
As a Shinigami who had already mastered Shikai, Su Feng did not take long to enter the state.
After a brief daze, his consciousness arrived in an entirely different space.
A pale, boundless expanse. Wild winds raged, and the familiar scenery stretched as far as the eye could see.
"Nothing's changed since the last time I came here."
Standing amid the surging winds, Su Feng extended his right hand. A gentle breeze brushed across his palm.
Strangely enough.
Unlike other Zanpakuto, Storm Howl's true form was not a humanoid being.
It was the wild wind between heaven and earth itself—unrestrained, roaming freely, drifting wherever it pleased,