Chapter 242
Deep in the mountains of Rukongai, a small hut perched halfway up one slope.
Outside the hut, Kisuke Urahara sat on a small stool, humming a tune as he stoked the fire beneath a cooking pot. Once he finished adding firewood, he dipped a long-handled wooden ladle into the pot, giving the contents a gentle stir.
Ever since fleeing the 2nd Division and hiding out here in the mountains, he felt as though his entire life had undergone a subli transformation. No official duties, no mandatory attendance, no overti, and—most importantly—no Kaelith.
Every day, he slept when he wanted, ate when he felt like it, and read books when he was bored. It was the perfect life. Or so he thought at first.
Watching the pot of white mochi soup bubble away, Kisuke’s expression remained calm. In the first few days, he believed this life of absolute leisure was everything he’d dread of. But little by little, he began to sense sothing amiss. Though his days were easy, it felt like sothing was missing. The realization alard him.
“Get a grip, Kisuke,” he told himself. “You’ve been ‘Kaelithed’—snap out of it!”
In desperation, he started giving himself tasks: writing a diary, chasing insects, hauling wood from the mountain to build small pieces of furniture, doing so light ho renovation. These activities distracted him for a while, but soon lost their flavor.
Kisuke fell into thought. Was running away truly the right choice?
Probably. With Kaelith’s personality, if Kisuke had stayed, he’d surely have been dragged in as a scapegoat—forced to beco Captain of the 11th Division. That was the last thing he wanted. Sure, he’d mastered Bankai while still young thanks to his Reishūkaku technique, but his spiritual pressure simply wasn’t enough to be a real Captain. Had he taken the position, everyone would only see him as a half-baked sham.
Anyway, reputation didn’t matter much to him, but he prided himself on being a thinker. Leading the 11th Division—a division devoted to pure combat—would have been an insult to his abilities. Honestly, no one else in the Seireitei fit the 11th Division better than Kaelith. So running away was definitely the right call. But “right” didn’t an “perfect.” He might have evaded that biggest pitfall, yet others lood.
Last week, in his restless boredom, he finally did sothing he’d vowed never to do…
Just as he reached out to remove the pot from the fire, Kisuke suddenly froze, eyes widening. Soone had shattered the cloaking barrier he’d set up around the hut—one he’d reinforced multiple tis. There were only so many individuals in the Soul Society capable of such a clean break.
His thought was barely complete before a familiar laugh echoed around him:
“Heh heh heh… Ha ha ha ha ha! Kisuke…where are you hiding? I’ve co to see you…”
Layer upon layer of sound waves seed to reverberate from every direction, pounding at Kisuke’s eardrums. Yet his face betrayed no surprise. He calmly took down the pot, ladled mochi soup into two bowls, set one aside, and lifted the other to sip from it.
Shff!
The air beside him shimred. Kaelith appeared in a distortion of space. Spotting Kisuke on his stool, unruffled and still savoring his soup, Kaelith arched an eyebrow.
Kisuke looked up with an innocent smile. “Kaelith, have a seat. I made so soup for you too.”
Kaelith stared at him for a couple of seconds, then circled around to the other side of the outdoor hearth and plopped himself down heavily. He accepted the offered bowl, slurped half of it in a single go, and nodded.
“Not bad.”
“Heh, glad to hear it. I’ve been practicing my cooking lately.” Kisuke sounded rather pleased, and Kaelith drained the rest. Without warning, he blurred forward, clamping a hand around Kisuke’s head and shoving him backward so he toppled to the ground. With a wild grin, Kaelith drew back a fist to strike.
“Kaelith, wait!”
Though his face was pressed into the ground, Kisuke remained calm, raising a hand in protest. Under Kaelith’s wary gaze, he reached into his robe and pulled out a book.
“Kaelith, look at this!”
“…?”
Kaelith eased the grip on Kisuke’s face and slid back, plopping himself down on Kisuke’s stomach. He took the proffered book.
The title read The Wisdom of Kaelith.
At first glance, Kaelith snorted. “Really? You trying the sa trick you pulled on before—dangling a fake book to lure into testing your experints? Think I’m a goldfish with a three-second mory?”
His eyes narrowed, fist lifting once again. Kisuke only grinned. “Please, open it first.”
After a brief pause, Kaelith loosened his fist and flipped through the pages. Gradually, surprise registered on his face. During that earlier “test” with the so-called book, only an outline had existed—little more than a blank folder waiting for content.
Now it was packed to the brim. Complete explanations, thorough references, ticulous notes on system designs… Enough to be both a beginner’s manual and an advanced guide for “ga engineers.” Even more impressive, each entry had two versions: one in terms of reishi (spiritual particles) and one in terms of “device engineering.” With slight adjustnts, it could even be published in the World of the Living to spark a gaming revolution.
Kaelith felt a rush of emotion. Then Kisuke drew out a second volu and passed it over. Kaelith took it and skimd a few pages—his pupils dilated. This was the upgraded LSP2 engine!
The first LSP engine (LSP1) had focused on colorized pixel art. Pixel gas already existed in the World of the Living, but most were strictly black-and-white. LSP1 had achieved full color and improved resolution. Now LSP2 took resolution to another level entirely—so much so that “pixel” no longer did it justice. It also addressed previous issues like lag and crashes.
Thanks to the Kuchiki and Shihōin familie’s backing, LSP1 had found a small market in the Soul Society. But because the bulk of resources was concentrated in the Seireitei and the first twenty districts of Rukongai—where even “wealthy” folks had only just enough to manage—the market was limited. Widespread adoption of gaming was unrealistic until Aizen’s ambitions could be realized.
However, with these two books, Kaelith’s console could finally break into the World of the Living.
Gazing at Kisuke, who was still pinned beneath him, Kaelith grinned broadly. “Kisuke, you’re truly my very own brilliant Doraemon!”
He clapped Kisuke’s shoulder a few tis, all thought of beating him forgotten. Kisuke winced as Kaelith’s enthusiasm made his shoulder throb, but he forced a smile. He didn’t know who “Doraemon” might be (Kaelith’s reference had gone over his head), yet it was clearly a complint. And with that, it seed he’d survived this predicant.
Then Kaelith gave him a curious look. “So you ran off all the way here, risking desertion, just to write these?” Judging from the ink and paper, Kaelith could see the content was recently produced. For a classic slacker like Kisuke, the chance to live in peace should have ant sleeping and tinkering idly. Why work so hard on all this?
Kisuke’s face froze. He opened his mouth. Admitting he’d been bored stiff and actually missed being worked like a dog would only get him teased for a year. After a brief hesitation, he coughed and changed the subject.
“Ahem… Kaelith, could you, um…maybe get off first?”
“Oh, right, sure.”
Still seated on his midsection, Kaelith planted both feet on the ground, pivoted, and stood up. Kisuke almost puked out last night’s dinner. Struggling upright, he looked at Kaelith again. The man was hugging those two books, eyes sparkling with delight.
Once Kaelith tucked the books away, Kisuke spoke. “Kaelith, does this an you’ve stepped down from the 11th Division?”
“Hmm? Nope,” Kaelith said, shaking his head. “No one there yet can fully take over. I’ve got a good successor in mind, but he still needs more ti.”
Kisuke’s face went pale. He’d assud Kaelith must have found a new scapegoat by now, and had only co to drag him back for so other chore. But it turned out there was no scapegoat yet. Which ant Kisuke was still in danger.
He figured he should at least say sothing—maybe deflect Kaelith’s attention to soone else. Aizen would make a decent candidate, right? He was strong, cunning…
Before Kisuke could open his mouth, Kaelith leveled a warning look at him. “I’m not sure what you’re about to say, but my gut tells you’d do well to keep it inside. You only get one life.”
Kisuke froze. Kaelith waved dismissively. “Relax. I’m not here to make you a captain this ti. Over these past months in the 11th Division, I’ve co to understand them. To keep those roughnecks in line, you need soone who can be crude or refined as the situation demands. With your personality, they’d walk all over you. You’d end up like Captain Nagaki.”
“…Understood.” Kisuke pressed his lips together. It was nice not being forced into the captain’s seat, but Kaelith’s offhand comnt about how they’d underestimate Kisuke still stung his pride. He swallowed it down.
When Kaelith explained he only wanted Kisuke back to teach a few promising rookies, Kisuke felt relieved. By Kaelith’s usual standard of exploitation, that was nothing. He could handle it easily…until he realized, with a sudden grimace, that at so point he’d started viewing a “lighter workload” as “not really work.”
He’d changed.
After a few seconds, though, he cald down. Life was like certain…unavoidable things. If you can’t escape it, learn to live with it. That was his new reality: Kaelith would forever be a looming shadow over his life. Might as well adapt sooner than later.
Seeing Kisuke’s face shift through a range of expressions, Kaelith wondered if he should send the man to the 4th Division for a checkup…
…
Over the next few days, Kaelith paid a visit to the World of the Living. He found Ishida Sōken and asked the old Quincy to establish a company, recruit talent, and begin developing consoles and gas. Sōken agreed without hesitation. Before long, a firm called “San-Tendō” was founded in Karakura Town.
On his first night back in the World of the Living, Kaelith found an uninvited guest in his room: a figure in a white uniform, peaked cap, and long black hair. Bambietta, whom he’d stationed here to keep tabs on the local Quincy. She strongly objected to his “use and abandon” approach—sending her here and then never showing up again. As retribution, she demanded he “take responsibility” and “punish” her again.
Though Kaelith couldn’t fathom that bizarre request, he had to admit people ca in all kinds. Using a variety of small, dium, and large “toys,” along with his own “holy sword,” he thoroughly satisfied Bambietta’s demands. By the ti he left for the Soul Society, she still couldn’t get out of bed. Yet even after all that, Bambietta eagerly looked forward to a next ti.
Returning to the Soul Society, Kaelith entered a rare period of relative calm that lasted almost a year. He caused no serious commotion, rely handled his captain duties, sparred with Kenpachi and the others, took casual strolls around the Seireitei, and mooched als whenever the chance arose. Occasionally, he used his shadow-manipulation power to help the Kidō Corps search for the Wandenreich’s hidden domain.
At first, Yamamoto suspected his troubleso disciple was biding his ti for so big stunt, remaining on high alert. But as the months passed, he gradually relaxed. Perhaps Kaelith had developed a real sense of responsibility after taking on the captaincy. Yamamoto was pleased enough to even call Kaelith over and teach him so new close-combat techniques he’d recently devised.
After nearly a year of this, Kaelith finally concluded that Yamamoto had fully let down his guard. He flashed a wicked grin. Today…he would lead loyal followers to storm the Armory and seize Luoyang—
Well, not quite.
In a secret lab sowhere in Rukongai, Kaelith stood side by side with Sōsuke. They exchanged glances, and Sōsuke nodded, pressing a switch. A Garganta opened in the air with a whoosh. Without hesitation, they plunged inside.
The two landed on the familiar silver-white sands of Hueco Mundo, where Kaelith let out a manic laugh.
“Hueco Mundo, your emperor has returned!”
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