Diezuka Hiroe

The moonlight, like gauze, was evenly sprinkled across the tranquil courtyard. In the center of the yard, a bell rhythmically chimed, "Dong, dong, dong."

This was an ancient Japanese courtyard. Inside the house, two men stood facing each other with swords, though they had no intention of fighting to the death. They held ordinary wooden swords, indicating they were merely sparring.

"When gripping your sword, be careful not to show fatigue. Remember that, Hiroe?"

The speaker was a bald, bare-chested old man with white eyebrows and a silver beard, his long whiskers neatly tied by two purple ribbons.

However, anyone who dared to underestimate him as a mere old man would surely suffer greatly. The numerous scars covering his body were the resentment and regret of the souls he had slain.

In fact, no one would underestimate him. He was the Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13, Yamamoto Genryusai Shigekuni, the oldest and strongest Shinigami in existence. The entire Seireitei knew this, and Hiroe Diezuka was no exception. In fact, he knew even more.

"And you absolutely cannot lose focus!" Seeing Hiroe's dazed expression, Yamamoto took a step forward and swung a heavy overhead chop at Hiroe's head. A large lump visibly swelled on his head.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch!" Hiroe, who looked no older than ten, clutched his head with both hands, his childish face showing a displeased expression. "I got it, Teacher!"

Although he had been here for over twenty years, whenever he saw characters from his past life's anime appear before him alive and well, Hiroe Diezuka would occasionally space out.

Who would have thought that staying up all night playing games would lead to his death? Well, he admitted that he had stayed up a bit too long, a full week, but to just kick the bucket like that felt a bit too hasty.

Actually, this sudden death didn't feel real. He just felt like he closed his eyes and opened them again in a different room, along with a different body and name.

In his past life, he was Hong Jiang, a miserable programmer. When he opened his eyes, he had become a child named Hiroe Diezuka, and his identity was that of a newborn abandoned infant in Rukongai.

"Hiroe, you are a genius, so I have taken you as my personal disciple." A more miserable life was just around the corner, but because of Yamamoto's words, Hiroe's status instantly jumped three levels, making him one of the most honored second-generation members of the Seireitei. However, this did not mean he could slack off; on the contrary, his childhood was harder than anyone else's.

Seeing Hiroe's pitiful look, Yamamoto's voice softened considerably. He knelt down, gently stroking the lump on his head, and said softly, "You are a genius, but do you know why I always say this and don't choose to hide anything from you?"

"Sigh~" Hiroe sighed helplessly. "Teacher, you've said it many times. Geniuses need confidence. A genius without confidence is even worse than an ordinary person."

Yamamoto nodded. He was very satisfied with the young disciple before him. Calling him a disciple was more like treating him as his own son.

Hiroe was a once-in-a-millennium genius. Yamamoto knew this from the moment he saw him in Rukongai fifteen years ago.

His spiritual power far surpassed that of ordinary people and even most geniuses. Keep in mind that at that time, he was just an ordinary child in Rukongai, without any formal training.

More importantly, Hiroe's body seemed to contain another soul, making his learning ability, comprehension, and spiritual power reserves twice that of people at the same level.

In other words, Hiroe's time was naturally twice as long as others. Even saying "half the effort, twice the result" was an understatement; his growth rate was something no one could predict.

Therefore, Yamamoto immediately decided to bring this child into the Seireitei and take him as his personal disciple. He would dedicate his life to nurturing him as if he were his own, and he wanted to witness firsthand this child becoming the most solid bulwark of the Soul Society, the most terrifying blade.

And over these fifteen years, Hiroe's performance had satisfied him. Of course, there were still some minor flaws, fatal minor flaws. If he could correct them, he would be even more satisfied.

"Yes, geniuses need confidence but not arrogance." Seeing Hiroe lost in thought, Yamamoto continued, "Whether facing an enemy or a friend, you must have the confidence to win, but also a sense of reverence for defeat."

"Strategically despise the enemy, tactically take the enemy seriously! I know this!"

Hiroe pouted with a hint of disdain. Although you are the strongest Shinigami, what you say is not necessarily as reasonable as mine, a young person who has transmigrated.

Yamamoto did not get angry upon hearing this. He lightly tapped Hiroe's forehead with his right hand and smiled, "You talk a good game, but how does it translate into action?"

"Cough! Uh, well, it's just..." Hiroe blushed deeply from the question. Although he tried his best to conceal it, anyone with discerning eyes could see that he was essentially contradicting himself.

"I was just thinking about something just now. Kidō, yes! I just had some new ideas for developing new Kidō!"

He finally found an excuse, and it was so perfect that he even convinced himself. "So, Teacher, you just interrupted my train of thought!"

"The enemy doesn't care if you have a major discovery. Disrupting you is not their goal; they want to take your head back to claim credit!"

Seeing that Hiroe still wanted to speak, Yamamoto interrupted him and continued, "A dead genius is no longer a genius. They don't even deserve to be mourned!"

"Do you know why?"

"Because they are useless when they are dead." Although Yamamoto's tone had not changed much, the aura emanating from him made Hiroe's heart tremble, and his voice quivered.

"Not useless. Dying on the battlefield is always useful."

Hiroe shook his head, not to deny Yamamoto's statement, but because he didn't understand why a dead genius wouldn't even deserve to be mourned.

He sat up straight, cross-legged, and lowered his head forcefully. "Please, Teacher, enlighten me!"

"Because they are foolish, Hiroe." Yamamoto stroked his beard and continued softly, "They should have had a better future. They should have protected more lives."

"Because of foolishness, they cut short their lives. You are letting down not yourself, but the many people who could have lived but died in battle!"

"Because of foolishness, you cast your responsibilities onto others, and you can't even repay those who protected you. In such a case, even if you die in battle, you are committing a grave sin!"

Each sentence was more severe than the last, each more shocking. It was as if the initial waves were merely caressing his body, but they turned into monstrous tidal waves, making Hiroe dizzy and bewildered.

So this is what it feels like to be adopted by the Captain-Commander.

"My disciples, no matter how they appear, are all cautious. Dying carelessly would be their greatest shame!"

"And for you, Hiroe!" Yamamoto raised his wooden sword and slammed it down heavily, producing a deafening sound.

Hiroe felt the ground tremble. He looked up and saw that Yamamoto, who had been squinting, had opened his eyes at some point. A piercing light shone in his eyes, as if it would never dim.

"You cannot die, and you will not die. Your future must be brilliant!" Yamamoto's neck veins bulged as he roared, "Do you understand, Hiroe!"

"I understand, Teacher!" Hiroe straightened up and roared back, "I am Hiroe Diezuka. When I break free from my cocoon, I will be the eternal butterfly in the sky."

"My future will undoubtedly be brilliant!"