Soul King Fingertip

The situation in the camp gradually calmed down, the wounded were properly cared for, and the area around the camp returned to peace.

But in the dense forest, far from the camp.

The moonlight was blocked by the dense foliage, with only scattered spots of light falling on the ground.

All around was quiet, with only the occasional chirping of insects and the rustling of leaves in the wind.

A petite figure was walking briskly through the woods.

She was a girl who looked quite young, with short orange hair that stood out vividly in the moonlight.

She was dressed in tattered clothes, barefoot, and walking on the gravel-strewn ground, yet she seemed to feel no pain.

She looked quite nervous at that moment, running forward briskly and glancing back every now and then.

She sensed danger from the people dressed as the Soul Reaper who suddenly appeared.

Suddenly, a dark figure flashed out from the side.

The girl didn't even have time to react before she was struck hard on the back of the neck.

Her vision went black, and her body went limp as she collapsed to the ground.

"Gotcha."

A deep voice echoed through the forest.

Two people dressed in black shihaka outfits emerged from the shadows.

One of them laid the girl flat on the ground, while the other took out a palm-sized device from his pocket.

The instrument was round, with intricate magical patterns engraved on its surface, and it gleamed with a faint blue light under the moonlight.

"Let's begin."

One person held the girl's body down while another person aimed the device at her.

A pale blue light shone forth, enveloping the girl.

Her body trembled slightly, her brows furrowed, as if she were enduring immense pain, but she was unable to utter a sound due to her unconsciousness.

A moment later, a faint light was drawn out from the girl's body and slowly drifted toward the instrument.

The light was irregularly shaped, vaguely visible... almost like a fingertip.

"It's a success..."

Soul Reaper, holding the instruments, murmured excitedly.

"The concentration of Reishi in this soul is indeed extraordinary; it has actually condensed into physical fragments."

The other person was equally excited, but remained vigilant, whispering instructions to his companion.

"Hurry, don't let anyone find out. Take it back and present it to Lord Aizen."

The two put away their instruments, exchanged a glance, and turned to disappear into the depths of the dense forest.

Their figures quickly disappeared into the darkness, leaving only the unconscious girl lying alone on the cold ground.

Deeper into the dense forest, there was a wide-open clearing.

The moonlight shone down without obstruction, illuminating the figure standing in the jungle.

Sōsuke Aizen, his posture upright and his expression calm, without his usual gentle smile.

His eyes were more profound than ever before.

Several black-clad Soul Reaper quickly appeared at the edge of the open space, walked swiftly to Aizen, and knelt down on one knee.

"Lord Aizen, the mission is complete."

"Those nobles' investigative techniques were indeed effective; this time, the target was successfully captured."

One of them picked up the fragment from the container with both hands and presented it respectfully.

Aizen took the instrument, his gaze falling on the faint light within it.

That was a fingertip.

To be precise, it is a fragment shaped like a fingertip, formed from pure Reishi.

It floated quietly in the container, emitting an unusual and strange luster.

A smile played at the corners of Aizen's lips.

"Good."

His voice was soft, yet carried a rare hint of satisfaction.

He raised his hand and gently touched the surface of the container with his fingertips.

The ball of light seemed to sense something, trembled slightly, and became even brighter than before.

Aizen looked at it quietly, a thoughtful look flashing in his eyes, and took out another sealing container from his pocket.

Within it, a sphere formed from chaotic energy is slowly floating.

Aizen glanced at the Soul King Fragment beside him.

He had seen similar fragments before.

However, it is extremely rare for something to condense into such a complete form.

Aizen gently placed the Soul King Fingertip from the container into the container that sealed the Hōgyoku.

That fingertip was instantly swallowed by the Hōgyoku.

Aizen could clearly sense that the activity level of the Hōgyoku had increased significantly.

He's on the right track.

The Hōgyoku still doesn't have enough of what it needs.

If only we could get our hands on the Hōgyoku developed by Kisuke Urahara...

Perhaps, the Hōgyoku can then be complete.

Aizen put the container away and placed it in his pocket.

Then, he looked up, his gaze casually sweeping over the grass in the distance.

It was completely dark there, and there seemed to be nothing there.

But Aizen's gaze lingered on that patch of grass for a moment.

He then looked away, seemingly unconcerned, and turned to walk back in the direction they had come from.

Let's go.

His voice drifted on the night wind.

Several black-clad Soul Reaper quickly got up and followed behind him.

Their figures quickly disappeared into the darkness.

Silence returned to the surroundings, and the moonlight remained cold and clear.

Only the night was as deep and dark as ink.

At that moment, a slender figure slowly stood up from behind a thicket of bushes.

The boy's face was quite youthful, and his short silver hair gleamed with a cool luster under the moonlight.

His eyes were long and narrow, squinting into two slits, making it impossible to see his expression.

He gazed in the direction those people had left, his expression revealing a calmness beyond his years.

The next moment, his eyes opened.

Cold, sharp, and filled with endless chill.

Gin Ichimaru gazed in the direction Aizen had left, standing there quietly, motionless.

The wind rustled his clothes and tousled his hair, but he seemed oblivious to it.

Only the knuckles of her hands, hanging at her sides, were slightly white.

After a long while, Gin Ichimaru withdrew his gaze.

Those eyes narrowed again, returning to their usual harmless appearance.

He turned and walked in another direction.

His steps were light and steady, without making a sound.

Knowing who the murderers are and remembering their faces is enough.

Now, he needs to go back and take care of the injured girl.

At the edge of a dense forest, a dilapidated little hut.

This is a typical abandoned house in the District 60 Rukongai, with mottled walls and several large holes in the roof.

Moonlight streamed in from the cave entrance, casting several beams of light onto the ground.

Gin Ichimaru, carrying Rangiku on his back, pushed open the door and went inside.

The room was dark, with only the moonlight barely illuminating a small area.

Gin Ichimaru gently placed Rangiku on the worn-out quilt.

Her short orange hair was disheveled, her face was as pale as paper, and her lips were bloodless.

At this moment Rangiku had her eyes closed, and her breathing was so faint that it was almost imperceptible.

Gin Ichimaru crouched down, reached out, and gently checked her breath.

There was still breath, but it was very weak.

He looked down at her, a deep pain showing in his narrowed eyes.

Rangiku was seriously injured and in very poor condition.

But now, he is powerless to do anything.

Gin Ichimaru gently raised his hand and smoothed Rangiku's sweat-dampened hair.

Then, he withdrew his hand, his fists slowly clenching.

The knuckles turned white from the exertion, and the fingernails almost dug into the palm.

He just squatted down beside her, without moving.

Deep down, I had already made up my mind.