The Wrong Turn, Ikkaku Madarame's Realization

"A division without a captain really doesn't get any respect."

Su Feng looked down at the Spiritual Pressure Bridge beneath his feet, displeasure flickering in his eyes.

The bridge should have been smooth and even, yet insufficient spiritual pressure had left it dotted with pits of varying sizes.

They did not hinder walking much, but they were far too unsightly.

It had only been three years since Kensei Muguruma ran off, yet the Kido Barrier had already fallen into such disrepair.

If the Ninth Division went a few more years without a captain, even its basic benefits would probably be withheld.

Su Feng had never hesitated to view Seireitei through the worst possible lens.

As a member of the nobility, he knew full well how dark and rotten it could be.

When he stepped onto the Spiritual Pressure Bridge, the Kido Barrier slowly closed in, returning to its original state.

Su Feng had officially entered the small island.

Before him stood only a massive gate at the foot of the mountain.

Four white stripes crisscrossed the gate, forming a sealing Kido that covered the entire mountain.

The Prison's overall structure was not much different from the Maggot's Nest in Squad 2's barracks. In essence, the latter had been modeled after the former.

In a sense, those imprisoned in the Maggot's Nest were even more dangerous than the criminals held in the Prison.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi alone was enough to prove that.

"Captain Su Feng!"

The Shinigami Soldiers guarding the entrance were fully armed and bowed respectfully.

They wore defensive spiritual equipment developed by the Department of Research and Development. Light gray all over and resembling armor, it pulsed with faint spiritual pressure.

"Thank you for your hard work. Open the sealing gate." Su Feng smiled gently, as he always did.

The guard did not even ask why. With practiced ease, he took out the Ninth Division's insignia and poured spiritual pressure into it.

"South wind, north mist, west thunder, east scorching sun."

In a slightly hoarse voice, he began chanting the Kido Incantation:

"Fall into ruin, shatter the seal..."

Intense white light bloomed from the insignia and surged into the massive gate ahead.

In an instant.

The white stripes seemed to come alive, twisting wildly across its surface until they vanished completely.

As the stripes disappeared, the sealing gate let out a dull sound as it opened.

Gears creaked and turned, pulling the gates apart to either side.

What came into view was an endless descending staircase, like an abyss.

The Prison's design was far more secure than the Maggot's Nest.

After all.

Those held here were criminals who had truly violated Seireitei's laws.

Su Feng did not hesitate. He stepped onto the stairs and headed straight into the depths underground.

Deep within the Prison.

It had the standard appearance of a prison: a corridor that stretched endlessly into darkness, with cages made of special materials lining both sides.

Some held criminals with disheveled hair and miserable appearances.

But more of them were Eleventh Division members who had been imprisoned only recently.

And.

The Third Seat, Ikkaku Madarame.

He had already awakened. Sitting cross-legged alone in his cell, he rubbed his chin with his right hand while his left occasionally swept over his gleaming bald head.

He looked like he was questioning his entire life.

Even after several days of thought, Ikkaku Madarame still could not understand where exactly he had lost.

In terms of presence, having emerged victorious from countless battles, he was an unmatched god of war.

In terms of spiritual pressure, he believed they had been evenly matched.

In Shunpo, they had remained in step throughout.

Could it have been combat technique?

Ikkaku Madarame furrowed his brow, shaking his head unconsciously as he muttered, "How could that be? Even Captain Kenpachi has acknowledged my combat skills!"

"So where exactly did I lose?"

Just then, a calm, gentle voice came from outside the cell:

"Mindset, technique, and..."

"Your unquestioning trust in a beast like Kenpachi Zaraki."

Bang!

Ikkaku Madarame sprang up from the floor, gripping the cell bars tightly with both hands. Veins bulged across the backs of his hands, and his expression became even more ferocious.

"Don't you dare insult Captain Kenpachi!"

Having been defeated by Kenpachi Zaraki and choosing to follow him for the rest of his life, Ikkaku Madarame deeply revered his captain.

"He calls himself a beast, so stop making that face."

Su Feng spoke indifferently. "He relies entirely on instinct and fights with his own peculiar abilities. If that isn't a beast, then what is he? A proper Shinigami?"

"Besides..."

"Under Kenpachi Zaraki's leadership, the Eleventh Division's style has certainly become more valiant, and its battle record has been outstanding."

"But as the Third Seat, have you ever counted the Eleventh Division's casualties in recent years?"

Beads of sweat faintly appeared on Ikkaku Madarame's forehead.

Like Su Feng before him, he rarely managed division affairs, generally leaving them to his friend Yumichika Ayasegawa to handle.

"Compared to when Gosuke and the previous Kenpachi served as captains, the casualty count has more than tripled."

"If not for the addition of those maniacs from Rukongai, the Eleventh Division would have become the smallest division in the Gotei 13."

"Of course, Kiyone Kotetsu was an unquestionable idiot."

When it came to the Eleventh Division's history, Su Feng spoke at length, as though he had once been one of its members.

"Triple the casualties..."

Cold sweat slid down Ikkaku Madarame's egg-like bald head, and he grew noticeably tense.

He valued loyalty and cared equally for every division member.

That number undoubtedly pierced his heart.

"But..." Ikkaku Madarame raised his head and stared at Su Feng unwillingly. "As the Eleventh Division, which fights on the front lines, casualties are unavoidable."

"Captain Kenpachi charges into the front lines in every battle as well."

Su Feng nodded seriously. "Then did you notice what I just said?"

"Zaraki himself is a beast. Don't judge him by the standards of ordinary people."

"His fighting style is not suited to anyone but himself."

"You have been deliberately imitating Kenpachi Zaraki, and that is the primary reason you lost that battle."

Cold sweat soaked Ikkaku Madarame's Shinigami Uniform. His eyes widened, bloodshot veins filling them as battles from all these years continuously flashed through his mind.

Just as Su Feng had said, ever since he had lost to Kenpachi Zaraki in Rukongai, he had deliberately imitated his fighting style.

His already frenzied combat style had become downright deranged, driving himself to the utmost to crush his enemies.

After every battle, he was inevitably covered in wounds.

Seeing this, Su Feng shook his head. His gaze toward Ikkaku Madarame carried a trace of pity.

"If victory in battle could be achieved through instinct alone..."

"Wouldn't the countless schools of Soul Society be nothing more than a colossal joke?"