Splat, splat. The two Gigai fell headfirst, their flesh and blood mangled.
Camera flashes went off. The police gathered around and confirmed that the criminals were dead, while reporters began photographing the bodies again, considering how to report the story tomorrow.
Some quick-witted reporters had already rushed over to stay close to Tai Hideo and get more information.
Kimura Keiichi looked grave. He knew something about the current state of the country. After the bubble economy burst, countless families had fallen into poverty.
Young people were at a loss about their futures, and biker gangs kept springing up despite repeated crackdowns.
Shiraishi's actions had undoubtedly shown those people a path: a life of drunken dreams and oblivion.
A crime wave would sweep the country.
"Don't look so glum. Our time to shine has come."
Tanimoto Takayuki also understood how serious the problem was, but he was full of anticipation. The more chaotic things became, the more those above would rely on capable people.
He had failed to secure the position of superintendent general this time, but there was still hope for him in the future.
Now in spirit form, Shiraishi looked down at the crowd and smiled. He turned his head and said, "You can open the Senkaimon now."
"Mm."
Soi Fon nodded, drew the Zanpakuto at her waist, and thrust it into the air before twisting it. The Senkaimon appeared and opened without a sound, and a pitch-black Hell Butterfly flew out. "Follow me."
Shiraishi had no lingering attachment to the World of the Living. He leaped straight into the Senkaimon and followed behind her all the way to the exit.
The concentration of Reishi in Soul Society far exceeded that in the World of the Living. Shiraishi took a deep breath as bright sunlight fell over the wooded mountains. "That was a wonderful trip."
"Yes."
Soi Fon murmured in agreement, and a hint of softness appeared on her taut, delicate face. An instant later, coldness covered it again. "From now on, we owe each other nothing. The next time we meet, we'll settle both who's stronger and who lives and dies!"
"I refuse."
Shiraishi spread his hands, giving her no time to change expression and grow angry. He vanished from the mountainside with a Steel Tempest, appearing on a plain dozens of miles away.
He expanded his spiritual perception to a radius of three kilometers and detected no sign of Soi Fon's Reiatsu. He immediately used Steel Tempest to speed toward West District Ten.
The wind whistled past his ears, and the wooded mountains flew by beneath his feet. Shiraishi whooped with joy. The World of the Living had certainly been fun, but the Gigai had restricted his strength. It was nowhere near as exhilarating as racing along so freely in spirit form.
He returned to West District Ten and made his way toward Rice Village along the familiar route. When he reached the outskirts, he chose not to enter, heading to Saito House instead.
Beneath the thatched awning, the table, chairs, and two long benches were all empty. There were no customers.
The prices here could hardly be called high, but it still wasn't a place working people could afford to visit every day.
Besides, it was early in the morning, when hardly anyone came by.
The proprietress, Kichō, wore a gorgeous kimono, her glossy black hair pinned up and adorned with ornaments of gold, silver, and jade. She lay in a wooden rocking chair covered with a blanket, swaying leisurely with a feather fan in her right hand.
With every sway and flutter of her fan, the pale expanse of her bosom was enough to make a person drool.
Shiraishi appeared in front of the shop.
Kichō opened her half-lidded eyes and said in a seductive voice, "Well, you finally decided to come back. Did you have fun these past two days?"
"It was interesting."
Shiraishi answered with a smile and stepped into the shade of the thatched awning. "How are your preparations going?"
Saito House was just as he had thought at the time. It wasn't simply a place to relax. Behind the scenes, it served as the eyes and ears of an organization, specializing in providing illicit information and doing illegal things.
As for what organization it was,
Shiraishi didn't know. He hadn't accepted Kichō's invitation to join it; he had only agreed to make money together.
"The main target has been decided. When it's time, I'll tell you when to make our move and where to meet."
"No thanks." Shiraishi suppressed the steel-like dragon. His principles were clear: he would never do as Cao Cao did.
Of course, if Kichō's man happened to die, Shiraishi would take back what he had just said.
"Hehe." Kichō smiled with pursed lips and stopped teasing him, letting him go inside the teahouse to rest.
He slept until dusk.
Shiraishi was still fast asleep when warm breath stirred by his ear. "Shira~ishi~"
Hiss. The soft, coquettish voice drove all sleep from him. His body stiffened, and he hurriedly sat up from the straw mat. "Kichō, you don't have to get so close to call me."
Kichō blinked. "I was just worried you wouldn't hear me~"
Shiraishi had never understood how some men could stand women speaking in such a cutesy voice.
Now he understood. When a beautiful woman spoke like that, it really could make a man go weak in the bones, without feeling the slightest disgust. "Why did you wake me up in such a hurry?"
"There's a man named Kyōhei outside looking for you."
"Uncle Kyōhei? How did he know I was here?"
Shiraishi was puzzled at first, but when he saw Kichō's smiling expression, he understood.
It was probably because Kichō's reputation was well known.
People had taken him for another one of her admirers.
Shiraishi scratched his head and got up to walk toward the teahouse entrance. Outside the thatched awning stood a middle-aged man with a square face, wearing a blue kimono and straw sandals.
"Good evening, Uncle Kyōhei." Shiraishi raised a hand in greeting, then slung an arm around the man's shoulders and grinned. "Got some way to make money you want to tell me about?"
Kyōhei was the elder's son and had extensive connections throughout West District Ten, both legitimate and shady. He often found work for Shiraishi.
Things like helping people repair houses, looking after dogs, and delivering illegal goods.
The two could be considered partners in mischief.
"As a matter of fact, I do. I just opened a cockfighting pit. Want to come try your luck?"
Kyōhei answered with a broad smile.
Shiraishi was a little surprised. "Aren't you afraid Steward Yoshizawa will trip you up?"
To open a cockfighting pit in West District Ten, one needed strong connections and plenty of money.
At present, Steward Yoshizawa of the Kawakami family had a monopoly on the entire cockfighting business in West District Ten.
The Kawakami family's businesses involved livestock such as dogs, chickens, and sheep, so Steward Yoshizawa could use his position to quietly take some chickens out for fights.
The losing chickens became Kawakami Saburō's food, so Steward Yoshizawa didn't have to worry about his masters discovering that he was making money on the side.
Kyōhei said contemptuously, "I've had enough of that old geezer. I was always running around doing things for him, and he only gave me a pittance for my trouble. So I decided to leave him behind and strike out on my own. Want to come play?"
Shiraishi readily agreed. "Sure. Given our relationship, I've got to show some support for your place. It's just that I'm a little short lately and don't have any cash."
"No problem. I trust your character. You can owe me for now." Kyōhei waved a hand magnanimously.
"Good. That's what I like about you, Uncle Kyōhei."
Shiraishi gave him a thumbs-up.
Whether or not he could make something from nothing, he couldn't pass up the chance to try when it was right in front of him.
He might even hit it big.
"Shiraishi, nine bets out of ten lose." Kichō offered him a kindly warning.
"A man has to take a gamble."
Shiraishi liked the thrill of a cockfighting pit. Winning money would be nice, but if he didn't, he wouldn't mind.
With his arm around Kyōhei's shoulders, he left the teahouse and headed for the cockfighting pit on the mountain.
After all, it was a highly profitable business being run in secret from the Shinigami. They couldn't openly set it up in the village.
Kyōhei had chosen to build the cockfighting pit halfway up the mountain. Its entrance was concealed by trees, and pushing them aside revealed a dim cave.
There were no torches on either side, but firelight and the silhouettes of people sitting around it were faintly visible deeper inside.
It was so quiet. There was none of the clamor a cockfighting pit should have, and he couldn't hear any chickens either.
"Hasn't it started yet?" Shiraishi asked curiously.
"Mm," Kyōhei replied. "We were just waiting for you."
"Such a grand welcome. You're making me feel embarrassed."
Shiraishi smiled and moved closer to the fire. He saw ten people sitting around it, every one of them with their head hanging low. Had they fallen asleep waiting out of boredom?
That question flashed through his mind, and his spiritual perception suddenly sounded a warning. A chill rose up his spine.
The bodies of the ten people before him, as well as Kyōhei beside him, bulged grotesquely like overinflated balloons and exploded with a boom.