Which God Do You Hate the Most?

At noon, the blazing sunlight was broken up by clouds and scattered across the vast plains in patches. It was a fine day.

It was the sleepiest time of day, yet there was not a trace of peace on the plains. Dozens of creatures of all shapes and sizes, each with a round hole in its chest and a different white mask covering its face, roared as they attacked the man at the center. These creatures were invaders of the Soul Society—Hollows.

Surrounded by the Hollows, the man was dressed as a Soul Reaper. He had just punched away a red Hollow that looked like a goat when another rushed up behind him. It was brown all over and resembled a hairless baboon with long arms.

At the same time, one Hollow charged from each side, mouths agape. Their massive shadows and hot, rancid breath were upon him in an instant. The next second, he would be drenched in blood and torn to pieces!

But the man didn't see it that way. He simply let himself topple forward, and the three Hollows behind and beside him collided in a heap, snapping their jaws on empty air.

That wasn't all. The man tensed his waist and kicked upward with both feet together. The three Hollows' jaws were forced shut, their thick teeth—each as large as a tower shield—shattering on impact. It must have hurt. The blue sky, which had been hidden behind their three enormous faces, shone down on him once more.

But the sunlight lasted less than a second before eight white masks blocked it again. At their head was the red, goat-like Hollow. The remaining Hollows had arrived, and viscous fluid the size of human heads dribbled from the corners of their mouths. They were ready to feast.

"Eugh! Don't drool on me!"

The man cried out and braced himself with both hands, kicking away the filth in his eyes. His body tipped upside down, forming a "1." Then his legs split apart and his arms twisted. A black whirlwind erupted!

Almost at the same time, the Hollows surrounding him were flung diagonally into the air.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!...

Eleven deafening crashes marked the end of their failed assault. Eleven enormous craters, still smoking, were scattered around the man, but none was within fifteen meters of him.

"What a shame! You were so close!" The man opened his right eye wide, peering through the narrow gap between his thumb and forefinger. "Just a little closer, and you would've eaten me! Put in a little more effort!"

What was going on?

Any bystander—or Hollow—would have asked that. Why was a Soul Reaper encouraging Hollows to eat him? Had he lost the will to live and decided to die?

The man certainly wasn't trying to die. His jaw was stubbled and his face bore a few more scars, but his appearance hadn't changed much. Anyone who knew him would still recognize him at a glance and call his name: Diezuka Hiroe!

He had been away from Seireitei for five years—or was it six? Hiroe could no longer remember. At first, he had kept track of the days, but after losing count on the very first day, time had become a vague concept.

Life on the Plain of Slaughter was nothing like life in Seireitei. Sometimes a fight with Hollows could last for days, and the passage of time meant very little there.

Hiroe had been alone all these years, though he hadn't spent all of them fighting on the Plain of Slaughter. Old Man Yama had ordered him to guard Rukongai, without assigning him to any particular district. So every now and then, he would return to somewhere around District Forty to recuperate and heal. Most of the time, though, he trained on the Plain of Slaughter.

Having someone watch his back on the Plain of Slaughter would certainly have been better, but that was true for ordinary Soul Reapers—not for Diezuka Hiroe!

Hiroe grinned and slapped away a Hollow that had charged at him. He immediately turned and swept his leg out, knocking away a horned, humanoid Hollow that had tried to sneak up behind him. It was much easier to get things done without anyone getting in his way.

"Why aren't you getting any better? Tighten up your teamwork! One at a time, and I'll fall asleep!"

With no one interfering, it was much easier to get things done. Take this moment, for example: if there had been other Soul Reapers around, those eleven Hollows would already have been wiped out. They would never have been any use for training.

Over the years, aside from carrying out Old Man Yama's missions, Hiroe had spent most of his time practicing Hakuda. He fought groups of Hollows using only his body and the power of Jiagui, without releasing any spiritual pressure.

The results of this training were obvious. Hiroe's Hakuda had earned him the nickname "Hakuda for Nothing" mainly because he always ran through his moves in his head before throwing a punch. In short, he was too bound by technique. This made him devastating against weaker opponents, but against an expert like Yoruichi, he was always a beat too slow. Changing his moves was even slower.

In a Hakuda fight where life and death were decided in an instant, that was a disaster! It was the same as handing his life to his opponent, so the nickname "Hakuda for Nothing" was well deserved.

But that was all in the past. Now, when Hiroe fought, all he thought about was the enemy's line of attack. He had no room for unnecessary thoughts. His moves and responses relied more on his body's instincts. He had reached a point where it was almost like having no moves was better than having moves.

Of course, that didn't mean Hiroe had become a Hakuda master. He could only just about call himself proficient. Against a master like Yoruichi, he still couldn't last ten moves.

Hakuda was all about close-quarters combat—engage, then break away. Hiroe could only respond once an opponent was on him. He was still a long way from Yoruichi's ability to engage and disengage entirely at will, and he still needed more experience to master the pace of a fight.

"Why are you still coming at me one by one? I told you it wasn't working!" Hiroe beckoned to the Hollows watching from the sidelines, taunting them. "Come at me together, or you won't get to eat me~"

"Don't listen to him! This Soul Reaper's out of spiritual pressure!"

"That's right! He's just putting on a brave face. Let's wear him down slowly!" shouted the baboon-like Hollow as it charged with another Hollow.

A war of attrition? Hiroe thought, the corners of his mouth lifting. That was fine. At least they wouldn't think he was too tough to chew and run away.

Should he pretend to look tired and play along? Never mind. He'd fight for another two hours, then catch his breath. He'd finish them off once the sun was halfway to setting. Turning his enemies to ash beneath the setting sun would look so cool!

Having made up his mind, Hiroe clenched his fist and charged at the baboon-like Hollow. The long boot on his foot vanished, and a black Jiagui gauntlet enveloped his hand.

Jingle... A sound like wind chimes rang through the air. It was faint, but Hiroe heard it clearly.

"Looks like I can't play with you until dusk. What a shame."

Hiroe murmured to himself. He changed his fist into a claw and met the Hollow's fist. His five fingers clamped down, and he yanked backward.

Is that my hand? The baboon-like Hollow stared at the object in Hiroe's left hand, wondering. It looked over and saw that everything below its right shoulder was gone. No—that wasn't quite right. A few streaks of blood still connected its arm to the object.

So it really is my hand.

But why doesn't it hurt?

There were roars to its right. Those belonged to its comrades: one of them had a birdlike head. Its shrill, piercing cries were so annoying. The Hollow had always told it to stop, but it never listened.

The sound stopped...

At last, it listened!

The baboon Hollow looked up and saw that the stupid bird head had vanished. Its own long arm—the arm it had been so proud of, longer than its body—had smashed half of the other Hollow's body and was still moving downward.

Hiroe finally reached the baboon Hollow. He pushed off with his right foot and leaped high, then held his right hand flat like a blade and slashed outward, leaving a streak of black ink in the air.

The baboon Hollow felt dizzy. The sky and ground kept switching places.

And there was darkness, spreading across the world like a rising tide. No, the world was breaking apart in chunks, like a peeling wall. No—its own body was crumbling too.

So I'm the one disappearing...

Hiroe landed and casually tossed away the arm in his left hand, which was slowly disappearing. In an instant, he had turned two Hollows to dust. They would remain in the Soul Society forever.

The remaining Hollows hadn't even reacted yet. A few were still in the middle of roaring.

"I told you, coming one at a time won't work." Hiroe rolled his neck from side to side. His voice was gentle, as if he were lecturing a disappointing student. Without those cold eyes of his, his words might have made someone feel as though they were basking in the warm, comfortable sunlight of spring.

But those eyes were real. At that moment, the Hollows felt as if they were standing atop a mountain of blades. They didn't dare move an inch!

"Now, the tables have turned!"

Something had changed! Every Hollow there could feel that Hiroe's presence had shifted!

The air seemed full of invisible blades, making their skin prickle with pain. What nonsense about him being at the end of his strength! What nonsense about him having no spiritual pressure! It had all been a lie—the man before them had made it all up!

"S-Spiritual pressure!" cried a Hollow with four arms and a single black line on its mask. "Run! This guy's a captain—"

Before it could finish, Hiroe punched it away. Its body scattered more and more as it flew through the air, crumbling into sand before it hit the ground and vanishing completely. It was impossible to tell whether the punch had broken it apart or whether it had disintegrated after dying.

"A captain? I'm nowhere near that. I'm just an ordinary Soul Reaper." Hiroe shook his head and charged at the next Hollow. "But as a Soul Reaper, I can't let you run away!"

Before he had finished speaking, another Hollow disappeared in midair. Even the dust Hiroe had kicked up hadn't settled before it was gone.

Could Hollows feel fear? There was no doubt about it. Death happened every moment in Hueco Mundo, and the fear of being devoured was enough to sink into your bones just by witnessing it.

But the fear Hiroe brought with him was different. His calm indifference, the casual way he took the lives of his own kind—it made the Hollows feel their deaths were utterly meaningless. They would die for the sake of dying. Death was their fate, the meaning of their existence. And Hiroe's duty was to bestow death upon them.

Run! This time, no one had to shout. Their instinct to survive drove them to make the right choice. Three of them even tore through space, trying to open a Negacion and return to Hueco Mundo.

"Are you looking down on me? You think I'd just let you get away so easily?"

Hiroe's gentle voice rang out again. The three Hollows vanished before they could even see a crack in Hueco Mundo. The Soul Society was, after all, the Soul Reapers' home turf. Even on the Plain of Slaughter, tearing open a rift took more than ten seconds.

With that route blocked, the remaining Hollows fled in three directions, praying that the man would go after the others and let them escape.

"I'm in a good mood today, so I'll show you something new." Hiroe glanced around and quickly decided to deal with the two who had fled alone first. "Jiagui, Fourth Form—Pass!"

The horned humanoid Hollow had barely taken two steps when a black fist appeared in front of it. Then the scenery on both sides swept rapidly forward as it was punched flying backward.

I'm going to die! That was its first thought. But it kept flying without disappearing. It could still feel pain. I'm alive! That Soul Reaper made a mistake!

It had barely begun to rejoice when the horned Hollow felt something collide with its back. It turned and saw the other Hollow that had fled alone. The other's body was slowly disappearing. That idiot really did die at the Soul Reaper's hands!

But why is the sky getting darker and darker? It's almost like Hueco Mundo...

The two Hollows who had tried to escape alone collided and disappeared. Hiroe was already standing before the final two.

"Do you know which god people hate the most?"

The red, goat-like Hollow froze. It looked up and saw the man who had brought it such fear. The comrade beside it had already been knocked flying and was disappearing in midair.

"Death. It follows people from the moment they're born. No matter how much they curse it, it won't leave. No matter how hard they hide, it always finds them."

"Let me go!" The goat Hollow dropped to its knees and slammed its forehead against the ground. Its voice trembled as it pleaded, "Please! Let me go! I swear I'll never set foot in the Soul Society again! Or the World of the Living! I promise!"

The surroundings fell silent. Would he really let me live? The goat Hollow tried to guess what Hiroe was thinking, but it didn't dare look up. It could only keep waiting, like a criminal on trial.

"You know..." That familiar voice rang out again, but this time there was no gentleness in it—only a trace of sorrow.

"Where I come from, there's a saying: the snake's blood is cold, so everyone who saves a snake dies!" Hiroe sighed and continued, "What about you? Can you, creatures without hearts, truly feel gratitude?"

He won't spare me. He's going to kill me! The goat Hollow finally understood what Hiroe meant. But it didn't want to sit around and wait for death. It would fight to the bitter end.

All I have to do is stick my hand into his chest, and I can live! The goat Hollow thought. It had just raised its head to act when a black hand appeared before it. It had seen that hand many times, but this time was different. It looked much smoother, with an unusual metallic sheen it hadn't had before.

The hand came closer and closer, growing larger and blurrier. Then the world before its eyes shattered into pieces!

"I'm in a good mood today!" Hiroe looked at the mask in his hand as it cracked into fragments and slowly disappeared. He spoke to himself. "So you shouldn't feel any pain."

Jingle... The sound of wind chimes rang through the air again.

"All right, all right, I know you're here!" Hiroe raised an index finger, looked up, and smiled. "Come on down!"

A black butterfly followed Hiroe's gaze, fluttered lazily down, and landed on his index finger. The wind chimes in the air fell silent, and the surroundings grew quiet once more. This time, they were truly quiet.