Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni had lived for countless years. A man of such age and experience naturally knew when to help soone—and who to fear. And now, it was clear: Uehara Shiroha was the true monster, the one who understood the "big picture."
Unfortunately, the mont you ask him to care about the big picture... you're already marked for death.
anwhile, compared to the utterly demolished Zaraki Kenpachi, Kuchiki Byakuya and Kurotsuchi Mayuri were practically having a spa day.
Facing the Seventh Espada, Zommari, who couldn't even activate the powers of his Cursed Eye, Byakuya effortlessly dominated the battle. It was less a fight and more a slightly annoyed stroll through his flower garden.
As for Kurotsuchi Mayuri, with a solid information advantage and Szayelaporro's power greatly reduced, he simply popped a Superman Potion. The result? No surprise there—Szayelaporro was dissected, looted, and turned into a science fair project before he could even monologue.
Mayuri provided a one-stop service: kill, loot, research. A scientist and a robber in one tidy package. And the haul? A treasure trove of precious experintal materials. Jackpot.
anwhile, Unohana Retsu quietly began treating Rukia—and conveniently used the opportunity to slack off just a little. As one does.
At the sa ti, deep within the Palace of Night, Aizen, Ichimaru Gin, and Tōsen Kana were observing the battlefield. Several captains had moved. But the trio didn't panic—they were already prepared.
In fact, the captains' arrival was part of the plan.
"Zaraki Kenpachi… there's no doubt you're already terrifyingly strong," Aizen said, watching the 11th Division Captain embedded in a massive rock pillar on the monitor. His tone was calm, almost admiring.
"You just chose the wrong opponent. But perhaps… that's what you wanted. You're stagnating. You need sothing—soone—to push you forward. While you sit in place, we will be in the right place, at the right ti, to welco glorious evolution."
Aizen was no idealist. He had long accepted that changing the world required overwhelming power—and that power required sacrifice. Fortunately, he had found a way to make others pay the price for him. The Espada were convenient like that.
Sure, their performance had been disappointing. But they weren't the key players moving forward. Their lives and deaths? Entirely disposable.
"That beast... he's like a demon," Tōsen Kana muttered, sensing Zaraki's lingering Reiatsu. It stirred mories he'd rather forget.
He still rembered that humiliating defeat—his Bankai shattered by that man. Either way, the scars ran deep. People like Zaraki, born with raw, chaotic power, should have been erased long ago. Their very existence was an offense to "justice."
Zaraki was destined to be an enemy of order. Thankfully, he ca to Hueco Mundo—where there was finally a chance to bury him forever.
As for the man who one-shotted Zaraki, Uehara Shiroha? Yeah... Kana decided to just... pretend that wasn't his problem.
Uehara's combat ability was so absurdly off the charts, it might as well have been filed under "Supernatural Events"—not sothing for him to deal with.
Ichimaru Gin, ever the sly fox, tilted his head thoughtfully.
"So that's why Lord Aizen transferred Zaraki Kenpachi to Hueco Mundo… Lord Aizen, you really don't miss a beat. Even a monster like him is just another piece on your chessboard. What terrifying calculations…"
Neither he nor Tōsen brought up Uehara Shiroha. Not even once. They both knew better. Dealing with that guy before Aizen's fusion with the Hōgyoku? That'd be suicide.
They couldn't win. Simple as that. So instead of confronting Uehara, they'd sidestep him—or wait until Aizen evolved into sothing... more.
Still, Aizen's attention on Zaraki puzzled Gin.
Unohana made sense—her identity and her awareness of Kyōka Suigetsu's illusion made her dangerous. But Zaraki? The man didn't even have Bankai. So why was he being watched so closely?
"The Reiatsu of Szayelaporro and Zommari just vanished. That okay?" Tōsen asked, frowning as he picked up distant fluctuations.
Byakuya on Zommari's end. Mayuri on Szayelaporro's. Expected matchups.
The Espada were ant to stall, maybe sacrifice themselves—but those fights ended even faster than expected. Probably thanks to that ridiculously overwhelming Reiatsu that had flooded Hueco Mundo just monts ago.
Uehara Shiroha had barely made a move—and yet, the battlefield had tilted completely.
Aizen, however, smiled calmly—his confidence untouched.
"No problem. In fact, it's perfect. The ti is right. Let's begin. The stage is set—let's not keep our audience waiting."
In the white sands of Hueco Mundo, Soul Society's mad genius Kurotsuchi Mayuri stared at his fresh pile of scientific spoils like a kid in a candy store.
He'd been here before. But back then, he could barely move. Uehara Shiroha was watching him like a hawk, and Mayuri had no death wish. Even in Hueco Mundo, it was Uehara's domain. Doing whatever he pleased? Not an option.
Hueco Mundo may be vast, but it's very convenient for burying people. Just saying.
To outsiders, he and Szayelaporro were both mad scientists—willing to die for their research. But to Uehara? Everyone was equal. Madman, genius, peasant—it didn't matter. He'd turn you into a corpse just the sa.
Uehara Shiroha wasn't just powerful. He had strength, confidence, and most terrifying of all—calculated restraint. Mayuri may not fear death, but he wasn't going to die stupidly.
That's why this sa Mayuri who dared to talk back to Captain-Commander Yamamoto and ignore Gotei 13's rules would, in front of Uehara, beco the picture of humility.
Honestly, compared to Uehara, even the Arrancar's deterrent power was a joke. Uehara, a Shinigami, dominated Hueco Mundo more thoroughly than its native rulers.
It was outrageous. And deeply unfair.
So in a twisted way, Aizen's arrival in Hueco Mundo had been a blessing. Without Aizen stirring things up, Mayuri wouldn't have dared to move. The Gotei 13 wouldn't have dispatched captains. He'd never have gotten his hands on these priceless materials.
As it turned out, if he didn't run into a walking disaster like Uehara Shiroha, he could still claim victory.
Even Uehara's leftover spiritual pressure was dangerous—sothing even the Captain-Commander couldn't suppress. But Mayuri wasn't ashad. Losing to soone like that? That wasn't failure.
Because, in Mayuri's mind: if he kept hiding, he'd never lose.
Vasto Lorde-class Hollow corpses? Fantastic for research. He'd take as many as he could get.
And the cherry on top? He'd completely thrashed Szayelaporro in their "scientific debate." Not only did he win, but he'd also used Szayelaporro as a live test subject for the Superman Potion.
The Eighth Espada lost tragically. Mayuri, anwhile, walked away with another successful field test.
Frankly, he was starting to get numb to victory.
The materials he'd acquired today would take his research to the next level. He looked over at Ishida Uryū, who was lying nearby, battered and exhausted.
Mayuri's expression softened into sothing vaguely human.
"You're seriously injured. Want to treat you?" he asked, voice filled with unconvincing sympathy. "My dicine does have a few... mild side effects. But it's extrely effective. Take just one pill, and you'll be up and bouncing in no ti!"
As he spoke, he began pulling out so truly questionable substances.
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