Rukongai

Temporarily revoke Diezuka Hiroe's eligibility for the challenge seat and assign him to guard Rukongai for 150 years. He would be officially inducted into the squad only after completing his assignment. That was the latest news about Hiroe's punishment.

Everyone who heard the news was left completely baffled. On the surface, it sounded severe: his eligibility was revoked, and he had to guard Rukongai for 150 years. But in practice, it was nothing like that.

The revocation was only temporary, and the order didn't specify which district of Rukongai he had to guard. If Hiroe wanted, he could simply set up a shack outside Seireitei. Besides, 150 years was no more than the blink of an eye to a Soul Reaper.

Rather than a punishment, it was more like a way to protect Hiroe by sending him on vacation, far from trouble. The favoritism was obvious.

Perhaps the news had been distorted. After all, with Yamamoto's wisdom, even if he meant to protect Hiroe, he wouldn't have done it so blatantly. But when people sought confirmation in person, they learned the order had indeed been announced by Yamamoto himself before all the members of Squad 1.

Was Yamamoto making a statement? Was Squad 1 no longer the squad of Seireitei, but the squad of Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto? Was he the true master of Seireitei, with power surpassing that of the Five Great Noble Families?!

No one could guess what Yamamoto was thinking. They only knew that the Head Captain had changed—and Seireitei was likely on the verge of upheaval.

Hiroe, the one who had set all this off, had already left Seireitei. More accurately, he'd set out the previous night—not to flee, but to train himself while carrying out his mission.

Kicking Kao Susumu out of the graduation ceremony had indeed been a spur-of-the-moment decision on Hiroe's part. The original plan was for Yamamoto to order Hiroe into seclusion on the grounds that he'd neglected his training after joining Squad 1. Hiroe would then operate under another identity to throw people off the scent.

But what was done was done. Scolding Hiroe now wouldn't change anything. And if they handled his sudden decision well, it might even turn out to be a good thing.

Seireitei seemed calm on the surface, but in truth it was beset by internal and external troubles, with undercurrents surging beneath. Outside were the Soul Reapers' eternal enemies—the Hollows. Within, ever since the Gotei 13 had changed from an organization of assassins into one of Seireitei's centers of power, plenty of people had been eyeing their piece of the pie.

There were also forces that were neither friend nor foe. This situation had persisted for over a thousand years. In Yamamoto's eyes, these were festering sores and hidden injuries. Unless he could eliminate them all at once, those who remained would only hide themselves more deeply. That left him tied hand and foot, helpless and frustrated.

But such troubles were relative. In the eyes of his opponents, wasn't Yamamoto himself the massive boulder blocking their way? If the pillar that held Seireitei together suddenly faltered, wouldn't the maggots lurking in the shadows crawl out and make their move?

The answer was obvious. Once Yamamoto realized this, he knew the farce might become a perfect opportunity—one to break the deadlock and tear everything down so they could build anew!

That meant they had to change the plan. The master and his pupil discussed it for five or six hours before deciding to split up.

Yamamoto would naturally stay in Seireitei, the eye of the storm. Hiroe, who had originally been supposed to confine himself, would leave Seireitei instead. That was the real reason the order about his punishment had been issued.

Rukongai was the only place in Soul Society besides Seireitei that was protected by Soul Reapers. The districts surrounding Seireitei were divided into four areas—east, south, west, and north—and each area had eighty districts, for a total of 320.

So although it was called a street, Rukongai—which existed to house the souls of the dead from the World of the Living—was larger than any city in the World of the Living.

After a Soul Reaper performed a soul burial in Seireitei, the dead from the World of the Living went to live in different districts of Rukongai. They were still people, more or less.

But even though Rukongai was vast, it couldn't possibly accommodate every soul that had ever died. The only reason its 320 districts hadn't been overwhelmed was the place where Hiroe now stood.

Rukongai's North District, District 80—Zaraki District, one of the outermost places in Rukongai. It bore no trace of a city and was as bad as hell.

As mentioned earlier, Rukongai was protected by Soul Reapers. But compared to the countless ordinary people, their numbers were limited. The farther a place was from Seireitei, the more desolate it became—and the worse its lawlessness.

Beyond District 70, the land was already overgrown with weeds and completely beyond the law. As for the farthest district, District 80, the Soul Reapers didn't even consider it part of Rukongai. They called it by another name: the Plain of Slaughter.

There were people known as wanderers here, as well as Hollows, but the concept of kinship didn't exist. Whether you were human or Hollow, you were little more than a Hollow here. The only way to survive was to kill every living thing in sight, devour it, and grow stronger, in the hope of reaching the first seventy districts of Rukongai and becoming an ordinary resident.

Unlike Hollows, however, the wanderers here wouldn't attack Soul Reapers without good reason. The black Shihakusho was a pass that let you travel safely through the area.

But that didn't mean they respected Soul Reapers. As Hiroe made his way along, he came across quite a few wanderers staring at him and drooling. He was sure that if he weren't walking around right now but lying gravely injured, they'd swarm him and tear him to pieces! To them, a Soul Reaper was valuable from head to toe. Devouring one might grant them spiritual power, and even stealing a Zanpakuto would bring enough wealth to live in any district of Rukongai.

Zaraki District might have been chaotic, but it had no shortage of Soul Reapers. It was a major hotspot for Hollows entering Soul Society to hunt. Every squad stationed people here to protect Soul Society and give them a chance to gain experience.

But battle was no child's play, and the Hollows bold enough to invade Soul Society were no ordinary creatures. Soul Reapers weren't completely safe here. Some died in the jaws of Hollows, while others were gravely wounded and then killed by nearby wanderers who took advantage of their weakness.

But would Diezuka Hiroe really give the wanderers a chance like that? Well, he couldn't say for sure. He was confident in his abilities, but better safe than sorry. If he really died, he couldn't just reload and try again!

"I should've brought my other sword too!" Hiroe thought. Of course, he'd asked the old man, but had been flatly refused. So this time, he'd brought only Jiagui.

The old man had also said that if Hiroe was determined to run, there were few people in all of Soul Society who could stop him—and those few were unlikely to be in danger. There were beings in Hueco Mundo who could catch him too, but creatures of that caliber wouldn't appear easily. All in all, as long as he didn't do anything reckless or stubborn, staying alive wouldn't be difficult.

That thought eased his mind. He wasn't some hothouse flower, after all. But just then, a flash of swordlight appeared to his left, shooting straight for his face.

Some idiot really didn't know when to quit! Hiroe swept his left hand across his waist, drawing Jiagui in its scabbard and holding it in front of the oncoming blade.

The swordlight vanished. It was a long sword with a chipped blade, its tip pressed against Jiagui's scabbard. It seemed Hiroe had blocked it.

But only Hiroe knew that his opponent had stopped applying force the instant the blade touched the scabbard. He hadn't felt the slightest impact.

A master! Just from that effortless control, Hiroe knew the sword's owner was no ordinary fighter. He just didn't know what this test was for—or whether the owner was friend or foe.