Askin's voice still echoed through the corridor, sounding particularly punchable.
He toyed with the undamaged little wooden comb, unable to hide the smugness on his face.
Yoruichi knelt on one knee, panting heavily. The poison had almost drained her of even the strength to stand.
It was infuriating. Just one punch would have been enough to knock this guy's brains out.
Just as Askin prepared to continue boasting about his theory of invincibility...
A red wooden ball suddenly flew through the air, tracing a beautiful arc before landing squarely on the floor between them.
The ball sprang open, releasing a large cloud of white smoke.
Startled, Askin instinctively leaped several steps back.
"Oh dear, it seems I've gone and arrived late."
Kisuke Urahara pressed down his green-and-white striped bucket hat and strolled out from around a bend in the passage.
He still held his signature Benihime cane, and his wooden sandals clacked crisply against the rubble.
Looking at the newly arrived helper, Askin couldn't help snarking, "Do all you Soul Reapers like sending in reinforcements one at a time? Beat the little ones, and the old ones show up. Now even the middle-aged shopkeeper has come running?"
Kisuke Urahara ignored Askin's trash talk and turned his gaze toward Yoruichi, who was kneeling on the ground.
Looking at the trace of blood at the corner of her mouth, he spoke with a rare hint of seriousness. "Yoruichi-san, this isn't like you. Isn't it time to use that move?"
At those words, Yoruichi stiffened.
Yoruichi wiped the blood from her chin and glared at him. "Shut up! I'm not using that humiliating form. I can't even fully control my own consciousness. What kind of look is that?"
Having to fight in that mindless wildcat form was ten thousand times worse than simply