West District Ten, Rice Village.
Taro seriously suspected that the problem wasn't with the road under the big poplar tree, but rather that he had been cursed this year.
As you play, you encounter Shinigami, and not just one, but a whole group of ferocious grim Shinigami.
The number shall be no less than ten.
To ask him for a specific amount would be too difficult, given his prenatal math education level.
The Shinigami of the group, a ruthless grim reaper, was as thin as a bamboo pole, his face and chest covered in scars as dense as a honeycomb. He ordered, "Drive everyone out."
At his command, the remaining Shinigami scattered and began calling out to people from house to house, driving the residents outside like cattle and sheep.
Tens of thousands of people gathered together, completely bewildered. It was the first time they had ever seen so many Shinigami gathered, making it clear that something major had happened.
"Quiet!" the scarred man roared, releasing the Reiatsu of the seven seats, rendering the residents in the front row speechless. Silence spread from front to back, and tens of thousands of people fell silent.
"Who is the elder?"
"I," the elder said, leaning on his cane, as he stepped forward unsteadily, "May I ask what orders Your Excellency has given us in gathering this place?"
"My name is Mura Takahito, the seventh seat of the 11th Division. I'm on orders to hunt down the vicious criminal Shiraishi. He should have shown up in this area; he's a strangely dressed, silver-haired man."
The Mura Takahito leaned down, his eyes close to the elder's, his breath hot against the elder's face. "You know his whereabouts, don't you?"
"I don't know, we've never seen this person before."
The elder lied without batting an eye. Shiraishi was usually elusive and he had no idea where he was. If he said he knew him, he would definitely be interrogated about his whereabouts, so it was better to choose not to know him.
"Tsk." The Mura Takahito shoved the elder's shoulder with his left hand and drew his sword with his right, slashing at his chest, blood splattering everywhere.
"Elder!" The residents in the front row wanted to step forward.
"You want to rebel!"
With a roar, the Mura Takahito's Reiatsu pierced the bodies of the residents in the front row like sharp needles, preventing them from advancing and leaving them only with resentful expressions. "I know the nature of you lowly people very well. You won't tell the truth unless I kill a few of you."
His fierce gaze swept over these people. He had rushed from Seireitei to the West District Ten, but his search had yielded nothing. A violent killing intent was boiling in his chest, and he desperately needed to find a place to vent it.
These residents of Rukongai would be perfect targets.
Mura Takahito Takato is warlike and bloodthirsty. He comes from the Outer Rukongai and once slaughtered an entire village when he was in a good mood. He also once tied up a group of people and drove them into the mountains to burn them when he was bored.
Even when leaving District 80, they deliberately dumped corpses into every water source and well in the area to contaminate it.
After joining the 11th Division, his personality wasn't as bad as before; even the fiercest beasts would submit to true predators.
Without a doubt, Kenpachi Zaraki is a beast that can subdue all wild animals.
Under his influence, Mura Takahito changed a lot, preferring to kill the strong rather than the weak.
That's why they chose to kill a few people here, instead of killing them all.
The Mura Takahito glanced around, his gaze landing on the children in the crowd, a cruel smile spreading across his lips.
In the Outer Rukongai, it's very difficult for children like this to survive.
In different regions where numbers appear higher, people tend to value children more than adults.
"If you don't tell the truth, I'll cut off this brat's head."
As he spoke, he strode toward Taro, the Reiatsu forcing people to keep giving way, not because of willpower, but entirely because of the difference in their souls.
Taro's legs trembled, and he wet his pants again. He felt like crying; why did bad luck always seem to happen to him?
Mura Takahito reached out, and then their hand was gone.
Half of it fell to the ground, staining the earth red with blood. He froze, completely unable to react.
A person stood in front of him, holding a knife with a golden blade, from which a few drops of blood flowed.
"It's you!" Mura Takahito said with a sickly smile, reaching for his Zanpakuto with his other hand.
Shiraishi kicked off the ground, charging forward without using any skills, executing a simple basic attack so fast that it was impossible to see clearly.
The Mura Takahito felt a chill on his neck, his head flew off, a large amount of blood gushed out, and the headless corpse fell backward.
Seeing this, the other Shinigami all drew their swords, none of them even considering running away.
Shiraishi wouldn't let them escape; the blade whistled softly in the air, like the whisper of the wind.
Throats were cleaved open by the blade, the sound of flesh and bone tearing was so low as to be almost inaudible, and heads flew off one by one, forming a dazzling red fountain.
"I'm sorry." Shiraishi sheathed his sword and whispered to the elder on the ground, "I will make those Shinigami understand what it means to court death."
His words were filled with murderous intent.
I originally planned to hide underground and let these Shinigami mess around, but I overestimated the quality of most of Shinigami.
At first, he didn't pay much attention to the Shinigami's spiritual pressure around Yonemura, but when the Shinigami's spiritual pressure was unexpectedly released, he realized something was wrong and rushed over from the exit, but he was still a step too late.
Seeing the injured elder and the danger facing Taro, he would not choose to endure it.
Shiraishi's unwillingness to fight Shinigami doesn't mean he's afraid of Shinigami; it simply means he finds fighting Shinigami pointless, troublesome, and too lazy to bother.
Once he feels it's necessary to fight, he will show no mercy.
" Shiraishi." The elder reached out to try and dissuade him from acting impulsively, but the man had already vanished, and his hand froze in mid-air.
"Wow, that's amazing!" Taro's eyes lit up, and those high and mighty Shinigami turned into corpses in the blink of an eye.
Big brother is really amazing!
Taro clenched his little Riot Games, his face flushed with excitement.
call.
A Shinigami dressed in a straw hat and a floral overcoat appeared beside the elder and asked, "Are you the elder of this village?"
When the elder saw the pure white Captain's Haori and black Shihakushō under the floral coat, his heart almost stopped beating. Captain?!
"Hmm," he answered with difficulty.
Shunsui Kyōraku crouched down, looked at the wounds on his body, and then at the dead 11th Division soldier, and roughly guessed what had happened.
After the death of their friend Kuruyashiki, the 11th Division drifted further and further away from its reputation Flower of the Martial Arts. By the time of the tenth Kenpachi, Kiganjō, this unit had resolutely embarked on a path as crude and vulgar as that of mountain bandits.
Even today, there are very few members in the 11th Division who can reason with people properly.
"Sorry," Shunsui Kyōraku said, standing up again. "Can you trace the remaining Reiatsu, Nanao- chan?"
"No, it's untraceable," the bespectacled, intellectual-looking woman replied. "The situation is dire."
"That's right, the 11th Division's recklessness angered them."
Shunsui Kyōraku sighed. The Reiatsu of the team members was fading, and the enemy was using their superior speed and stealth to kill them at will from different directions.
The officers below the Seated Officer captain were completely powerless to resist; they didn't even have time to buy time for them to arrive.
We must change our strategy.
Shunsui Kyōraku thought for a moment and came up with a plan. " Nanao- chan, Zhang Tenteikūra is going to be in charge of the entire West District Ten."