I Died and Became a Hollow, But I Get Stronger by Being an Idiot Chapter 105: The King’s Boredom, The Shinigami’s Visit

The vast, silent halls of Las Noches stretched endlessly — an empire of white stone and eternal night. At its heart, the colossal throne room lay in eerie stillness, save for the ominous creaking of massive skeletal roots that had, until recently, imprisoned a man. A king.

A rustless, relentless king.

Baraggan Louisenbairn.

Slowly, like ancient stone grinding against itself, the roots cracked and splintered apart. With one last surge of power, the Vasto Lorde broke free, his skeletal form rising from the remains of Spike o Sensei's cursed trap. His empty eye sockets burned with cold fury.

"...Tch. All of my plans… ruined."

He looked around at the empty expanse of his court. His throne sat abandoned, his followers scattered. Days passed, though ti ant little in this lifeless desert. At first, his rage boiled — but then… it cooled.

He was bored.

No challengers, no servants. No Bone Circle to tornt. The silence gnawed at him more cruelly than any prison.

"Where are those fools…" Baraggan muttered to himself, leaning against his massive axe. He missed their idiocy. Their pointless chatter. Even that damnable bubble-blower and his loudmouthed panther.

Then ca a commotion.

His underling Gagal stumbled through the halls, bloodied and wheezing. Before Baraggan could demand an explanation, the hapless soldier collapsed in a heap of lifeless bones.

And behind him… three figures stepped into the throne room.

Three Shinigami.

Each wore a white captain's haori over their black uniforms. Their presence radiated spiritual pressure so dense it pressed against the walls of Las Noches itself. Baraggan's gaze sharpened, bone fingers tightening around his axe.

The one in the middle, with glasses glinting ominously in the dim light, stepped forward.

"I presu you must be Baraggan Louisenbairn," the man spoke, voice polite yet dripping with quiet arrogance. "King of Hueco Mundo."

Baraggan's empty sockets narrowed. These faces… he rembered them. From Rukongai, long ago. A mory buried under centuries of death and conquest. How amusing.

"Are you… human?" Baraggan asked, voice as dry as sand, or perhaps death itself. "Or Shinigami?"

The man smirked, adjusting his glasses. "Does it matter?"

Baraggan tilted his skull, and then — to his own surprise — let out a chuckle, the sound echoing like creaking bone through the chamber.

"No… it does not. I've been… bored."

He gestured lazily to the sprawling expanse of white beyond his throne.

"Welco… to my castle. Welco… to Las Noches."

And just like that, the king invited the storm inside.