Bloodshed

The key to facing many opponents alone was to intimidate them and inflict casualties first.

The assassins' leader was no mere showpiece. He was truly powerful, and the moment Yato rushed into his guard, the man countered with a knee strike to his abdomen.

But the youth endured the pain and decisively turned on the other assassins, swiftly killing one with Senbon and crushing their spirits with his momentum.

Thus, the scales of victory tilted irreversibly in his favor.

Breaking ribs, crushing feet, twisting throats—Yato took his enemies' lives with brutally efficient moves.

The nameless girl stood on the roof, looking down at the one-sided slaughter. Yet there was not the slightest hint of relief in her eyes. Instead, she seemed anxious.

"Faster, Yato!" she said in a voice only the two of them could hear.

"Something is coming!"

Crack!

Uchiha Yato slammed both knees down onto the assassins' leader's face. The tremendous force snapped his head sideways, breaking his neck with a sharp crack.

At that point, all ten assassins from Kusajishi District had been killed by Yato!

"Too late..."

He murmured softly as he slowly rose from the corpse, rolling his wrists and stretching out his bones.

Even while fighting, Yato had sensed a "hurricane" approaching his small courtyard.

A Spiritual Pressure of the twelfth grade was already on par with that of the lowest-ranking seated officer. Across the entire Soul Society, it could not be considered weak.

Although Yato had never received systematic training, he could still vaguely sense the Spiritual Pressure of others.

—The person rapidly approaching him possessed Spiritual Pressure like a raging hurricane!

Turning his back on a hurricane and running was undoubtedly the stupidest way to die.

Inside the dim little house, Uchiha Yato slowly exhaled, steadied his heartbeat, and waited for his enemy.

The deathtrap the Horiuchi Family had laid tonight truly exceeded the youth's expectations.

What exactly had happened to make them so determined to obtain the Shin'ō Academy admission notice?

But whatever the reason behind it, Yato had only two paths before him.

Live, or die.

There was no third option.

Under the moonlight, a foot stepped onto the splintered remains of the wooden door.

The enemy appeared abruptly.

A black kimono, black hakama, straw sandals on his feet, and a sheathed blade hanging at his waist.

—A Soul Reaper uniform. A Soul-Cutter Sword.

This man was neither some powerful thug from Rukongai nor an inexperienced rookie, but a genuine Soul Reaper!

Though Yato had already prepared himself for this outcome through his perception of Spiritual Pressure, the sight of the enemy still made his heart sink again and again.

He exhaled a breath of stale air and, before the enemy's eyes, walked to the cabinet and took down a katana.

It was the sword he normally used to practice swordsmanship. Sharpened to a keen edge, it glimmered with cold light beneath the moon.

He gripped the sword with both hands, placed one foot before the other, and tensed his back.

A standard combat stance.

By now, the youth's heart was as calm as a lake. He stared directly at the enemy beyond his blade and spoke softly.

"Uchiha Yato."

The unfamiliar Soul Reaper was visibly taken aback.

The youth before him had seen his attire, yet instead of fleeing, he had drawn his sword, faced him head-on, and announced his name.

Not simple. I can't let my guard down... Hmph. I'll have to squeeze more money out of that Horiuchi Yosuke.

The Soul Reaper stroked his chin with amusement. Looking at the poised youth, he slowly drew his Soul-Cutter Sword.

"Ninth Division, Seventeenth Seat, Koizumi Kentaro."

If one's opponent drew his blade and announced his name, then even if they bore a blood feud, one had to return the courtesy in equal measure. In the Soul Society, this was the cruel aesthetic silently accepted by both sides of a battle.

"A seated officer, huh..."

Yato sighed inwardly. Then he suddenly dropped his shoulder, concentrated his strength into his legs, and drove his bursting muscles into the floor, stomping a deep crater into the tatami.

In the next instant, Yato had already rushed before Koizumi Kentaro and swung his blade upward.

The seated officer showed no fear. One hand held the hilt while the other pressed against the back of the blade, striking down at the incoming sword from above.

Bang!

There were no flashy sword techniques or tricks. The two clashed once with pure strength.

Koizumi Kentaro was sent flying backward.

He had actually lost the contest of strength against the youth!

"Good! Strong enough! Fast enough too!" the seated officer shouted in midair, without the slightest panic.

But Yato did not pause. He kicked off the ground and leaped after him, his blade cutting a streak of snowy white light straight toward the man's chest.

His enemy was still in midair and being carried backward, making it difficult to regain his balance. Yato seized this chance to grievously wound him!

The timing was perfect, and his swordsmanship had been pushed to the very limit of his abilities.

Yet this beautiful pursuit cut down only a corner of clothing.

Koizumi Kentaro vanished in midair.

Uchiha Yato's pupils contracted sharply. Just as he realized something, the seated officer's chilling voice rang out beside his ear.

"Hado #4: White Lightning!"

With the strength of a seventeenth seat, using a low-level Hado without an incantation could hardly produce much power, but it was enough to paralyze Yato's muscles in an instant.

A thin bolt of lightning struck the youth's back. His vision suddenly turned white, and he temporarily lost the ability to move.

Then came unbearable agony.

Koizumi Kentaro's Soul-Cutter Sword pierced Yato's abdomen. With a casual upward slash, it tore open a horrifying wound.

Yato fell to the ground, drenched in blood. His unfocused eyes stared at his own body, and he could almost see his organs.

"So this is the power of a seated officer..."

He had used "Flash Step" to escape and reposition, "Kidō" to cripple his muscles, then swordsmanship to grievously wound his opponent.

He had not even used Shikai yet!

The combat level of even the lowest-ranking seated officer was truly not something a rookie who had yet to enter Shin'ō Academy could compare to.

"Kid, you're already pretty good."

Koizumi Kentaro sheathed his sword and looked at Yato, who had become a man covered in blood.

"You know what I'm after. Where is the academy admission notice? Spare yourself some suffering. It'll be better for both of us."

His answer was a mouthful of bloody spit.

"What a tough bone." Koizumi Kentaro wiped his face and sneered.

"But no matter how tough your bones are, a Soul-Cutter Sword can still cut them apart."

The seated officer took out lamp oil and set the house ablaze.

Then he slowly walked toward Yato, releasing his murderous aura without restraint.

"Tell him, Yato."

The nameless girl in red armor knelt beside Yato. Her face was bleak as she pleaded sorrowfully.

"It's beneath the tatami. Tell him, all right?"

"It's useless." The youth shook his head and refused with a bitter smile.

From the moment Nomura Yuji came to visit, there had been no room left for compromise.

The logic of Soul Society nobles had always been to leave no loose ends and destroy every risk in its cradle. To them, the lives of Rukongai residents were merely a trivial price.

The only chance of survival was to kill every enemy who came for him.

Yato had actually understood long ago that the girl who had arrived in the world of Soul Reapers alongside him was very powerful.

After obtaining a Soul-Cutter Sword, he would complete Shikai and Bankai in an overwhelmingly forceful manner, gaining those unimaginable abilities.

But the prerequisite was... possessing a Soul-Cutter Sword.

There were only fifteen days left until he entered Shin'ō Academy and received an Asauchi.

Fifteen days separated life from death, heaven from earth.

"Sorry."

In the pool of blood, the youth closed his eyes.

I can't say your name anymore.

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