Kūgo Ginjō’s eyes rolled back, the whites almost fully exposed, as though he had completely lost consciousness.
It was clear this Cero had been held back—Harribel hadn’t struck with full force.
She knew all too well that if she had gone all out, Kūgo Ginjō would’ve been reduced to ashes on the spot.
And once that happened, retrieving his soul and the Soul King fragnts inside him would’ve beco far more difficult.
That’s why, even with this Gran Rey Cero, she had restrained her power, using only a suppressed form of Reiatsu.
Now, standing before the defenseless Kūgo Ginjō, Harribel didn’t hesitate. She stepped forward and drove her right hand straight into his chest.
In an instant, powered by her white glove, her hand found and seized his soul—along with the large number of Soul King fragnts he had absorbed—and yanked them free.
Without delay, she placed the extracted soul into a jade orb and sealed it tightly.
Then, with a graceful pivot and a crisp bang, Harribel appeared beside Nelliel in a flash.
Nelliel raised one hand, her arm also wrapped tightly in a white glove, holding a matching jade orb. Inside it was the soul of Shūkurō Tsukishima.
With this, the two of them had finally accomplished the goal of their mission.
Was Kūgo Ginjō strong?
Absolutely.
Had it not been Harribel and Nelliel—both of whom had undergone decades of indirect evolution through the Hōgyoku—even the likes of Starrk among the Espada would’ve struggled to defeat him.
"These people are all unconscious now. That saves us so trouble. Let’s extract the materials from their bodies too."
After storing away the soul orb, Harribel glanced over the scattered Fullbringers on the ground and spoke after a brief pause.
Most of these Fullbringers, shaped by unusual lives, shared a common wish—
To beco ordinary humans.
That was why they had co to seek out Kūgo Ginjō.
He had promised to help them rid themselves of the powers that made them feel alien in the human world.
But now, thanks to advancents in technology, the gloves that Harribel and Nelliel wore were capable of extracting foreign elents from a soul without harming it.
That’s why they had confidently promised Kūgo Ginjō earlier: if he handed over the Soul King fragnts, they would spare his life.
Unfortunately, he chose to resist.
And for that, death was the only outco awaiting him.
The two glanced around at the unconscious Fullbringers and moved into action without hesitation.
...
On the other side, within a transparent barrier...
Masatsuki Aozaki stood in the barren wasteland of Hueco Mundo, holding an ancient-looking katana. With a gentle motion, he sliced through the air before him.
As the blade swept forward, a pitch-black rift opened in the void—like a gateway to another world.
Such was the power of Anominaka. It didn’t rely enable spatial movent—it granted complete control over space itself: distortion, erasure, inversion, compression, creation... anything was possible.
In short, Anominaka’s true ability was total spatial manipulation.
Thud!!
A loud crash echoed through the dimly lit space.
Masatsuki Aozaki casually tossed a massive corpse to the ground.
The body had been cleaved cleanly in two, lying lifeless on the cracked earth. Crimson blood poured from the severed halves, soaking the sand in a deep red.
Strangely, though the body had been dead for quite so ti, the blood had yet to coagulate. It continued to flow slowly, unnaturally.
The surrounding Reishi also drifted through the air—gently, aimlessly—as if waiting for sothing.
But compared to the miraculous phenona of the past, their motion had slowed dramatically. The particles lacked their forr vitality, now sluggish and dim.
It was enough to make one doubt whether the so-called miracle could ever return.
Masatsuki Aozaki quietly observed the scene, then softly whispered a na.
"Gerard..."
The mont he spoke it, a strange force seed to stir.
A faint cluster of Reishi drifted out from the nearly still air, as though answering his call.
The particles shimred weakly—like a lone star flickering with hope in the darkness.
But the miracle never ca.
It was like a breeze that brushed silently past Masatsuki Aozaki’s body, trying in vain to land a final blow.
"It’s over... your miracle won’t happen. This is the end."
Masatsuki Aozaki’s brow tightened. In an instant, his pupils transford—splitting into dual irises—and a powerful, invisible pressure radiated from his body. Even the world itself seed to pause.
Gerard Valkyrie—once the heart of the Soul King—had been kept sealed within a dinsion crafted by Anominaka ever since his defeat.
His Miracle power had been relentlessly suppressed by Masatsuki’s Stillness power.
But suppression alone wasn’t enough.
Even under heavy constraint, the Miracle power kept resisting, refusing to fade.
Masatsuki held the upper hand in their clash of powers—but he hadn’t absorbed the Miracle outright. He was cautious, wary of a sudden reversal.
After all, this was a clash between powers born of the Soul King.
So he called upon the Progress force of the Soul King’s left hand to aid the Stillness power. Every ti the two forces clashed—Miracle and Stillness—he added the montum of Progress to tip the scale.
Again and again, over ti, his Stillness power evolved and grew more dominant...
Until at last—it completely overpowered the Miracle.
Masatsuki Aozaki stifled the surge of excitent rising in his chest, taking deep, steady breaths.
He stood between the halves of Gerard’s massive corpse and slowly extended both arms.
A strange weight pressed down on him—like the burden of the entire world condensed into his small fra.
"Farewell... to this world."
He murmured.
His body surged with energy, his thoughts sharp and focused. Reiatsu flowed from him in sync with his will, reaching toward the one now marked for farewell.
Even though Gerard’s brain had been split in two—rendering him incapable of conscious thought—his soul seed to sense the coming end.
The Reishi lingering in the air trembled slightly, as if echoing his fear.
This man, once unshakable and brimming with confidence... was now afraid.
Because the Miracle had abandoned the Man of Miracles.
To Gerard, the version of himself that once symbolized miracles... was long gone.
His black and white Reiatsu was thick as a sea, swirling like a dark ocean.
Tiny eyes, countless and unblinking, seed to ripple across its surface, exuding an unbearable chill.
The torrent slowly flowed across Gerard’s body.
His "corpse" trembled, not by will, but from the invisible pressure that crushed him.
Masatsuki Aozaki’s eyes grew colder still.
His gaze was like a distant, frozen star—piercing and rciless.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / PinkSnake
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