Names

Kao Susumu stared at the Zanpakuto in Diezuka Hiroe's hand, his eyes turning bloodshot. It turned out that this damned Diezuka Hiroe had been telling the truth; the Asauchi he held in his own hand was absolutely not the best one.

He wanted it so badly—no, in Kao Susumu's view, this blade belonged to him in the first place, only obtained by Hiroe through despicable means. Now, he was going to rectify that mistake and seize what was rightfully his.

"What is that idiot trying to do?"

"He isn't actually thinking of stealing a Zanpakuto, is he?" Another youth shook his head and laughed, saying, "Commoners are just commoners, mud that can't be plastered onto a wall."

"Not all of them, though. Isn't Hiroe an exception?"

By now, the impression Hiroe left on the new students had quietly shifted. A monster who could transform an Asauchi into a Zanpakuto the moment he touched it was enough for these nobles to set aside their prejudices.

The instructor in charge on the viewing platform couldn't stop grinning; he had known this Diezuka Hiroe was a genius. He was truly worthy of being the closed-door disciple favored by the Head Captain!

What was that kid trying to do? The instructor noticed Kao Susumu's movements. He couldn't possibly be planning to snatch the Zanpakuto from Hiroe's hand, could he?

"What a fool!" the instructor cursed inwardly, his heels lifting as he prepared to step in. He still wanted to see if this genius could achieve a greater breakthrough, such as Shikai.

Of course, communicating with a Sword Spirit to achieve Shikai immediately after transforming a Zanpakuto was a shocking feat. It was difficult, certainly, but what if he actually succeeded? He would not allow any human interference to affect Hiroe at this moment.

Just then, the situation on the field changed, and the instructor set his foot back down. It seemed he wouldn't need to intervene after all.

The instructor wasn't the only one watching Hiroe; Urahara Kisuke and Shihoin Yoruichi, as his close friends, also hoped Hiroe could take that next step.

Kao Susumu was only two steps away from touching the Zanpakuto he craved, but those two steps were ones he could never take.

At this moment, Shihoin Yoruichi stood with her sword leveled between the two. Judging by her posture, if Kao Susumu took one more step, she would swing her blade without a moment's hesitation. Kao Susumu did not doubt this for a second.

But that wasn't the main reason. A sword was already held horizontally before Kao Susumu, the blade less than an inch from his throat. Forget taking another step; even a slight movement would result in his head being severed from his body.

The owner of the sword was Urahara Kisuke. The smile he usually wore had vanished, his narrowed eyes were wide open, and his entire being radiated a dangerous aura.

"Back off..." Urahara's sword moved forward slightly, pressing directly against Kao Susumu's throat. His eyes devoid of emotion, he said coldly, "Or else... I'll kill you!"

"I'm backing off, I'm backing off..." The coldness at his throat finally brought Kao Susumu back to his senses, and the look in Urahara's eyes—as if he were looking at a dead man—filled him with terror. With trembling hands raised above his head, he retreated step by step as if surrendering.

Once Kao Susumu had retreated nearly fifty meters, Urahara sheathed his sword and returned to Shihoin Yoruichi's side, his smile reappearing on his face.

"Which possibility do you think it is?"

Shihoin Yoruichi knew what Urahara was asking. Although the three of them hadn't seen each other's Zanpakuto before, they all knew that the others possessed them and had already mastered Shikai.

Now that Hiroe was holding a Zanpakuto, either Hiroe had been lying to them—which seemed pointless and therefore unlikely—or Hiroe possessed two different Zanpakuto. Logically, that was the most probable scenario.

Yet, it was simultaneously the most impossible thing. No one could possess two different Zanpakuto at the same time; it was absolutely impossible!

Shihoin Yoruichi couldn't wrap her head around it. She shook her head and whispered, "I can't guess. When the time comes, we'll make him tell us himself. If he doesn't, we'll beat it out of him!"

Hiroe, naturally, had no idea how much trouble he had stirred up. He was feeling excellent; even if he had experienced this before, it still fascinated him.

He was currently inside a large room—not his physical body, but his consciousness. Candles flickered in the room, and the Hannya Mask on the walls seemed to come alive under the candlelight, grinning hideously one moment and looking ferocious the next.

The transformation of an Asauchi into a Zanpakuto was a hallmark of becoming a Soul Reaper. A Zanpakuto had its own name—a unique name.

Communicating with one's Zanpakuto and finally learning its name was a process called Shikai, which also meant one had transcended the ranks of low-level Soul Reapers.

This process could be long or short, varying from person to person. Some learned the name in a flash of inspiration, while others truly heard the blade's voice telling them its name. No one knew exactly what stage one had to reach to obtain the name and complete Shikai.

However, if you could see the physical manifestation of your Zanpakuto, you were guaranteed to complete Shikai. That was the case for Hiroe right now; the manifestation of his Zanpakuto was right here in this room.

And if he wasn't mistaken, it was that suit of pitch-black armor in the very back—a strange set of armor that looked as if it were being worn by an invisible person.

"Are you me?" Hiroe asked, looking at the Hannya Mask suspended in mid-air.

"You should know that being able to come here proves that I am you," a hoarse voice emanated from the mask, sounding as if it were struggling to breathe.

"Straightforward for once..." Hiroe shrugged to himself, reached out, and continued, "We've come this far, I assume you won't keep me in suspense?"

"The name?" A gauntlet gripped Hiroe's hand tightly, accompanied by the hoarse voice. "Don't forget, my name is..."

In the Sword Chamber, Hiroe snapped his eyes open.

"It wasn't just a dream, was it?" Hiroe muttered softly, looking at the short blade in his left hand, and shouted aloud: "Seize him..."

"Jiagui!"

The short blade that had been firmly gripped in Hiroe's left hand vanished. The crowd on the field rubbed their eyes; they hadn't blinked, yet the blade that had been there a second ago was gone.

As their gazes shifted to Hiroe, they saw that his left hand was now covered by a black gauntlet. The fingertips were curved inward like hooks, the back of the hand was thick, and it featured a relief of a Hannya mask.

His forearm was also covered in pitch-black, smooth armor. It lacked the luster of metal, looking more like the chitin of an insect. It appeared plain and unadorned, yet it exuded a sense of sinister, murderous intent.

"Shikai, this must be Shikai!" The instructor on the stone platform had already rushed over, his face flushed red as he stared incessantly at the gauntlet on Hiroe's left hand.

"Well done, genius, a true genius! Truly worthy of being the disciple favored by the Head Captain!" The instructor kept patting Hiroe on the shoulder, his praises endless.

The new students watching from the field began to clamor loudly upon hearing this.

"He's a monster!"

"That blade is called Jiagui, right? It looks so cool!" a young girl said, cupping her face.

Of course, not everyone agreed; there were dissenting voices as well.

"It's fast, sure, but it looks a bit plain."

"It looks like a direct-attack type; I bet it's quite weak."

"I think so too; the momentum was too small."

Kao Susumu was among those who felt this way. Seeing that Hongjiang's Zanpakuto was so ordinary, he felt much better.

Praise and suspicion flew in equal measure, but it was undeniable that at this moment, Hongjiang was the brightest star among the new students, the focal point that would garner attention from all sides for a long time to come.

He had just said during the spiritual power level test that it would be his final stage, yet he hadn't expected to be proven wrong so quickly.

Watching the confusion plastered across Yoruichi and Urahara's faces, Hongjiang couldn't help but feel troubled.

Standing out felt great, but this was a bit too much. For both him and Old Man Yama, this had severely exceeded their plans, enough to give them a headache for quite some time.