Chapter 249
In the immortal words of DJ Khaled, "Another One," we got another one. Truly inspiring words.
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A secret lab in Rukongai.
Aizen stood at the control panel in his Shihakushō, his face unreadable. The glow of a blue monitor reflected off his glasses with a frosty gleam. Not far away, a giant glass container held hundreds of souls thrashing about in apparent attempts to escape. Yet under the pressure of Aizen’s formidable reiatsu and the guidance of his machinery, these souls slowly rged together.
He had no compunction about using them—he set the souls to crash into each other, provoking a reaction. Before long, the readouts on the monitor skyrocketed, revealing a novel power that took shape before his eyes. Aizen’s gaze flickered with anticipation.
Would this force serve as a guiding beacon to fulfill his ambitions?
Under his command, the agitated energy condensed into droplets of red liquid. Aizen used a test tube to collect them, then slipped it carefully into a small pocket inside his robe.
The materials were ready; the next step was experintation.
Feeling a surge of expectation, he left the core lab and headed into the outer chamber.
“Yo, nice work. Care for so water?”
That voice. Aizen nodded, taking the offered cup in hand. He was about to share what he’d just discovered when he suddenly froze in place. A cold alarm pricked at him, as if Kaelith had silently crawled up his spine.
Kaelith was good at hiding his reiatsu, and if he were wearing a special Shihōin cloak or sothing similar, his presence could be nearly undetectable.
But it was still impossible for him to get so close without Aizen sensing anything.
Whoever was concealing themselves to that degree obviously didn’t want Aizen picking up on their spiritual signature. In other words, whoever it was probably wasn’t Kaelith.
In a heartbeat, Aizen drew Kyōka Suigetsu and slashed to the side—
Clang!
To his mild surprise, an arm lifted, blocking his blade. The skin on that forearm shimred with a concentrated barrier of reiatsu. Even though Aizen’s strike had been an impromptu attack, its force, bolstered by his vast spiritual energy, was as strong as a typical captain’s all-out swing. That his opponent could endure it with sheer physical toughness…
The chill in Aizen’s eyes gradually eased. This was the real one, after all.
Only now did he have ti to take in the other’s appearance. The person wore a black cloak—unlike the plain, drab black shroud Kaelith had once worn (like soone leaving the house wrapped in a bed sheet), this new cloak was downright stylish. It had an extra mantel around the shoulders, raising its fashionable flair, and subtle dark-gold embroidery around the edges, giving it a mysterious, regal air. Beneath the hood, Kaelith was grinning at Aizen.
“Well now, Sōsuke—why greet a friend with your sword right off the bat?”
Aizen ignored him. Sheathing his Zanpakutō, he asked curiously, “What’s with that outfit?”
“Ho ho, you noticed?” Kaelith gave a smug look. “Unlike a certain soone who greets folks with a violent slash, I, Kaelith, have arrived bearing my latest research results.”
He lifted his arms, letting Aizen get a good look at the monk-like cloak.
“Feast your eyes upon the brand-new Super Kaelith Cloak! Put it on, and you’ll defeat any fearso solar monst—cough, I an, you can hide your reiatsu completely!”
Aizen was startled despite himself. He had assud that the Shihōin clan’s special cloaks were peerless for suppressing spiritual presence.
Evidently, sothing even stronger existed. After a mont’s thought, he gave a small nod.
“I see… so that was the Royal Special Task Force. Shutara Senjumaru—‘Great Weave Guard.’ If she took the trouble to temporarily descend from the Soul King Palace, weaving her ability into this cloak would explain it. Nothing gets by you, does it? You’ve already roped in a Royal Guard mber…”
Kaelith’s eyes widened. How is Sōsuke deducing all this without saying a thing? Could he have evolved into so higher-dinsional being who sees the entire tiline?
Before Kaelith recovered from his astonishnt, Aizen’s hand shot out eagerly. “Hand it over.”
“…Huh?”
“Take it off.”
“W-wait, Sōsuke! Not like thi—aaah!”
Despite Kaelith’s halfhearted protest, Aizen briskly stripped the cloak off him, took it in hand, and strode back into the lab without another word. Shaking his head, Kaelith followed him in.
“You know, Sōsuke, you’re lucky I’m such a tolerant friend. If it were anyone else, you’d have been stabbed in the stomach and pumped full of lethal poisons.”
“Relax. Anyone harboring that sort of plan would’ve fallen under Kyōka Suigetsu before they ever got close enough to harm .” Without looking back, Aizen laid the cloak carefully beneath a microscope and began examining its structure—thread, embroidery, weaving technique.
Every detail might hold secrets. He wasn’t rely aiming to replicate the cloak; he also wanted to understand Senjumaru’s capabilities. Soday, he and Kaelith would stand against the Zero Division, so today’s observations might co in handy.
While Aizen studied the cloak, Kaelith wandered over to the equipnt where he’d seen Aizen just a mont ago.
“Look, but don’t touch,” Aizen said, not turning away from his microscope.
Kaelith sighed. “Is that how you treat a sage, hmm?”
He picked up a folder of Aizen’s experint logs. Skimming a few pages, Kaelith grimaced. So many souls, used just like that. He assud most belonged to ordinary Rukongai citizens. He understood Aizen’s actions logically, but it still made him uncomfortable. The latter pages contained data he couldn’t make heads or tails of, though it looked like Aizen had achieved a breakthrough. If they were back in Kaelith’s original world, he’d be scamming so massive research grant for sure.
Feeling a little dazed, he slumped into a big armchair and dozed off.
He wasn’t sure how long he slept before a push woke him. Aizen stood in front of him. “Get up. We’re going to the 11th Division.”
“…For what?”
“To give a lecture for a certain fool who only kills and never buries. His subordinates need so lessons.”
Aizen’s tone was utterly flat. Kaelith only needed a mont to puzzle out whom he ant. He snickered, hopping down from the chair.
Thanks to the thods they’d devised in recent months—and the sheer growth in both their powers—a journey that once took days now scarcely took an hour. They arrived at the 11th Division gates and, amid the respectful greetings of its mbers, proceeded to the training yard.
Kenpachi Zaraki, Komamura Sajin, Tōsen Kana, Madara Ikkaku, Ayasegawa Yumichika—they were all here. Oh, and the orange-haired girl as well. Compared to when he first picked her up, Matsumoto Rangiku looked vastly different. Gone was her ragged old clothing, replaced by the red-and-white Shin’ō uniform. Her once grimy face now clean, she gave off a delicate prettiness. But the biggest change was her eyes.
In Rukongai, they’d been full of wariness, like a frightened stray ready to bolt. Now there was a steady determination in that gaze—she had found a decent life here.
Upon seeing Kaelith, Rangiku’s lips curved in a smile. She waved an arm. “Yū! Over here!”
Kaelith clicked his tongue, strolling over to her. He rapped her on the head. “Hey, kid. Show so respect. I’m a professional Shinigami and a fine, upstanding mber of society. You’re just a student—you ought to call ‘senpai.’ Understood?”
Rangiku winced, rubbing her skull. “Oh, please. Word on the street is that you dropped out of Shin’ō after not even a year. By rights, you’re still short of graduation age.”
“That wasn’t dropping out—that was early graduation!” Kaelith snapped, incensed.
“Yo, Boss!” Kenpachi, sword slung over his shoulder, grinned wildly and ca striding over. He’d missed Kaelith fiercely. The re mory of Kaelith’s ferocious sword strikes made him shiver in excitent. Going even a few days without being cut by that savage blade left him itching.
“Lord Kaelith!” Tōsen approached more reservedly, bowing. Even after all this ti, he remained the most reverent mber of Kaelith’s circle, and if not for Kaelith’s stern forbiddance, Tōsen would drop to a knee whenever they t.
“Kaelith, you’re here to play in the 11th?” Yachiru Kusajishi bounced out of nowhere to latch onto his back.
He nodded. “Yep, I guess you’re all quite friend—eh?” Halfway through, he paused, pulling Yachiru off by her head and flicking her lightly on the forehead. After all, he was the 11th Division Captain. Even if he retired one day, he’d still be a forr captain, a sort of ‘Grand Emperor’ figure around here. A glorious retirent spanning four more years—everyone else would just have to deal with it.
Following Aizen’s instructions, everyone began training. He quietly observed, noting issues and improvents. This thodical, individualized teaching earned the admiration of all in Kaelith’s circle.
Eventually it was Rangiku’s turn. Aizen stepped over, eyes calm, as she practiced strikes against a group of artificial dummies ford with Kidō. They’d boosted both the number and defense of the dummies this ti, anticipating her recent progress.
Sure enough, the added difficulty was pushing her harder—within two minutes, her swordplay was starting to slip.
Aizen was about to call the drill off when, to his mild surprise, her anxious expression suddenly shifted to an eerie calm. Clutching her sword in both hands, she slashed forward. The instant a silver light flickered, the three Kidō dummies disintegrated.
“Hmm?”
Aizen narrowed his eyes, focusing on Rangiku’s fingers. Kaelith sidled over.
“Right, Sōsuke, this is probably the first ti you’ve seen that move of hers. First-year academy students have mostly theory classes, so she’s spent more ti training with Kinoshita-sensei. It’s that amazing trick I saw in the mountains that made bring her to the 11th Div—”
Before Kaelith could finish, Aizen said quietly, “That’s a fragnt of the Soul King.”
“…?”
Kaelith blinked, confused.
“She has a Soul King fragnt in her body,” Aizen muttered. “And it’s a large piece. Her left hand’s index and middle fingers up to the second joint, plus the thumb, index, and little finger on her right hand up to the first joint—all fused tightly with the King’s fragnts. The stability and power flux are clear. Essentially, her hands are the Soul King’s fingertips.”
Kaelith’s eyes went wide. He’d assud that this particular tiline’s Matsumoto had stumbled on so stroke of fortune indirectly caused by him. He never would have guessed it was due to a Soul King fragnt. After his brief shock, worry welled up. Aizen was collecting Soul King fragnts for his experints. They were vital to his next phase. But if that ant tearing them out of soone in Kaelith’s circle, that was sothing Kaelith couldn’t allow.
He turned to Aizen, trying to decide how to dissuade him. But before he could say a word, Aizen glanced at him with a faint smirk.
“You think I’m going to quietly harvest her fingers?”
Kaelith blinked, saying nothing.
Aizen gave a dismissive snort, raising his chin slightly in a smug gesture.
Then he pulled a sheet of paper from inside his robes and flicked it over. Kaelith caught it and scanned it curiously.
After a mont, he looked stunned. The page contained rudintary logs of his recent ‘materials’—including the sources of countless test subjects. All those Kaelith had assud were just random Rukongai souls turned out to be criminals, drifters, bandits, and the like.
The outer 30 districts had no shortage of such types, so it was enough to fuel Aizen’s experints. Still, Aizen would have needed to devote ti and resources to gather them. Kaelith never expected him to bother.
Observing his expression, Aizen said tonelessly, “Even for regular ‘specins,’ I chose a thod you’d find more acceptable by using those who, shall we say, deserved it. As for the Soul King shards, there are plenty of ways to track them down.
According to the texts, the Five Great Noble Houses carved up the King so thoroughly that fragnts were scattered all across the worlds. If I look hard enough, I can find as many as I need—no sense relying on your underling’s souls to do it.”
Kaelith stared at Aizen’s proud deanor, montarily dazed. Then he couldn’t help but break into a grin.
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