Orihime Inoue's pale pinky hooked around Muten Natsu's, her small hand swaying lightly.
"So you have to protect it the same way you protect me."
"It's really fine. It doesn't hurt much," Muten Natsu reassured her. "After you healed it, the pain disappeared."
"No, it didn't." Orihime Inoue lifted her hand, her fingertip pressing into the fullness of her chest. "It still hurts here."
"...I'll remember." Muten Natsu gently shook the hand linked with hers.
"Th-then… that's good~" Orihime Inoue turned her head away. "Where do we go next?"
"..." Ririn let out a sigh.
Such a perfect opportunity, and Orihime Inoue still couldn't seize it.
Just hold his hand and have him rub it for you!
Wouldn't that settle everything in one go?
With such an overwhelming advantage, she didn't even know how to use it… though, to be fair, Muten Natsu's tastes were rather unusual.
"This way." Muten Natsu led Orihime Inoue downward.
Unlike the previous route, this area was crammed with research equipment. Metal conduits and strange wiring ran everywhere. Muten Natsu didn't dare move carelessly; breaking something dangerous by accident would be a disaster.
They passed down steps and along pipelines until a circular iron door blocked their way.
Muten Natsu reached out and slowly absorbed Reishi with his Soul Essence Stealing ability, breaking the iron door apart.
Beyond it was a circular chamber, the walls covered in deep cuts and gashes from blades and axes.
One wall was made of transparent glass. Muten Natsu's gaze passed through it, settling on the apparatus on the other side.
A cylindrical pod, like a stasis chamber, stood upright in the center, filled with an unknown green liquid. Complicated tubing extended from it, linking to all kinds of bizarre devices around the room. Several control consoles ringed the area, many still glowing faintly.
"Found it…" Muten Natsu stared at the black longsword floating inside the pod, a trace of nostalgia in his eyes. "It really has been a long time…"
A series of faint, continuous sounds rang out. Orihime Inoue sensed something wrong.
"Muten, behind you!"
The opening they had entered through suddenly sprouted new mechanisms from the wall, sealing it completely shut.
Immediately after, more complex, indistinct sounds followed. The walls on both sides hissed open, and razor-sharp blades skimmed along the floor, rushing straight at them.
Clang!
Ink-like darkness spread, followed by a flash of blade light.
Ink Fortress Flash!
With a clear metallic clash, the spinning blades were knocked upward before clattering onto the floor.
Muten Natsu narrowed his eyes, finally seeing what it was.
It was a Hollow.
Its body resembled a thin, scrawny monkey, covered in fine scales. The pale mask on its face extended backward, gradually darkening as it lengthened, gleaming with a cold metallic sheen.
Crisscrossing stitch marks were clearly visible across its body, and parts of its limbs were distinctly different in color from its torso.
The Hollow drew its body inward, the shadow cast by the blade above completely engulfing it.
Its curled form slowly sank into the shadow, leaving only the black-and-white gradient blade exposed, gliding across the ground like a shark's dorsal fin.
Soon, more blades gathered from all directions, circling around Muten Natsu and Orihime Inoue as they waited for an opening.
"What is this place?" Orihime Inoue pressed her hands to her hairpins, ready to activate Santen Kesshun. "Why are there so many Hollows?"
"Looks like we entered from the wrong place. This is where they conduct tests," Muten Natsu said, voicing his guess. "These blade Hollows are clearly modified experimental subjects. People from the Research and Development Institute observe the results from behind the glass."
As he spoke, black blades suddenly surged forward.
Clang!
Ink Fortress activated again as Muten Natsu slashed out, the shock numbing his grip.
These blade Hollows' weapons had clearly undergone special treatment. Their durability was extremely high.
It seemed they had sacrificed the strength of every other body part to push their sole means of attack to the extreme.
Muten Natsu had no interest in getting tangled up with test subjects. He scooped Orihime Inoue up and charged toward the barrier.
Suddenly, blinding light flared along the walls, stretching their shadows to the limit.
Several blade Hollows brushed against those shadows. After vanishing for an instant, they reappeared right beside the two of them.
Insect Flash!
Worm-like Reiatsu surged out from the blades, wrapping around them in a protective shell.
The black blades struck the writhing Reiatsu and were knocked away.
Unlike the previous one, this Hollow had its entire right arm transformed into a blade. After landing, it sprang up again, spinning like a wheel in midair as it rapidly sliced through the Reiatsu worms.
Muten Natsu had been waiting for this moment.
The Reiatsu worms collapsed as Myōki flared crimson. With a single swing, Muten Natsu slashed downward. The fiery blade pressure tore free from the edge, splitting violently into multiple arcs that struck the Blade Hollows in midair and drove them straight into the glass.
Exploding Flash!
A chain of explosions thundered through the chamber as several Blade Hollows were blasted into chunks of flesh.
Yet the glass remained completely intact.
A faint shimmer of light glowed along its edges.
"A barrier," Muten Natsu clicked his tongue.
Of course it wouldn't be that easy.
Just thinking about it made it obvious. This glass was designed to be exceptionally strong, precisely to prevent experimental subjects from destroying the laboratory.
Several Blade Hollows lunged in again, launching a continuous wave of attacks.
Muten Natsu swung Myōki, using Ink Fortress Flash to knock them back one after another, but he couldn't find a clean opening to finish any of them off.
These Blade Hollows had clearly fought together for a long time. Their coordination was tight. One would strike head-on, followed immediately by two more in tandem. Another pair would ambush from the shadows, while yet another two crept in from blind spots.
The attacks came in an almost unbroken chain, grinding away at Muten Natsu's stamina like a meat grinder.
Veins bulged on his forehead. If the glass was protected by a barrier, then the only way to break through would be Hellfire…
"Tsubaki!" Orihime Inoue called out sharply. "Koten Zanshun—I reject!"
Muten Natsu's heart clenched. These Blade Hollows weren't something Koten Zanshun could handle. One mistake, and even Tsubaki herself could be in danger.
His eyes shifted, and only then did he realize that Tsubaki wasn't aiming at the Blade Hollows at all.
Her target was the glass.
Water Flow Flash!
A raging torrent burst from the blade. As Muten Natsu swung, the surging water swallowed several Blade Hollows that tried to intercept Tsubaki.
Lightning Flash!
Violent arcs of lightning spread through the water, further restraining the Blade Hollows' movements.
With their interference suppressed, Tsubaki reached the glass without resistance. The golden barrier shimmered briefly as she passed straight through it.
The faint glow along the edge of the glass flickered once, then vanished entirely.
Silk Bind Flash!
Muten Natsu slashed again, releasing threads that latched onto the blades of several Blade Hollows from the side. He twisted his body and yanked hard, forcing their trajectories to change.
One after another, the Blade Hollows slammed into the glass, carving through it and shattering a massive section into fragments.
In one smooth motion, Muten Natsu hurled Orihime Inoue up into the air, sliced open the cultivation pod with a single stroke, and drew Myōki into his left hand. He caught the falling Orihime against his chest while his other hand closed around the hilt of the black katana.
A long-forgotten voice echoed deep within his soul.
"Meow~"
...
Ganju and Ichigo Kurosaki fell together, the ground rushing up fast. Ganju hastily formed hand seals, his right hand with four fingers pressed together pulling a crimson circle through the air.
"Turn to sand—Seppa!"
The solid ground instantly collapsed into fine sand, dispersing the impact of their fall.
"Pwah!"
They scrambled out of the sand in a mess, both of them spitting grit.
"If it weren't for your weird technique," Ichigo Kurosaki said, wiping his mouth, "we'd be dead for sure."
"What do you mean weird technique?!" Ganju coughed violently. "This is the Shiba Clan's… cough, cough… passed down for generations… cough! A way to scatter Reishi… urgh—"
"Maybe you should stop talking," Ichigo Kurosaki said flatly. "We were lucky enough to land somewhere empty. You'll end up drawing people over."
"Heh," a voice suddenly sounded. "That's exactly what I was thinking."
Ichigo Kurosaki's gaze sharpened as he turned toward the source.
"I slipped away from my post to avoid trouble and find some peace and quiet," the voice continued. "Never thought my prey would fall straight from the sky."
Two figures leapt down from the rooftop. One of them rested his Zanpakutō on his shoulder, wearing a feral grin.
"My luck really is incredible. Thanks for nature's generous gift."
"Wow," Ichigo Kurosaki said in awe. "Baldy!"
The man's head was completely hairless, shining conspicuously bright.
Seriously shiny.
Paired with his fierce expression and red eyeshadow, the effect was strangely unsettling.
"I shave it!" the bald Shinigami snapped. "I'm not bald!"
"Ah…" Ichigo Kurosaki adjusted his wording. "Shaven head."
"Heh heh heh…" The bald Shinigami ground his teeth. "Looks like you're about to be seriously unlucky!"
"Hey, no!" Ganju Shiba protested. "He's the one calling you bald and shaven-headed. Why am I getting dragged into this too?"
"But when it comes to sins, yours are far heavier than his."
The Shinigami standing beside the bald one had sleek black short hair. A feather ornament was affixed near his right eyebrow and the corner of his eye. An orange neck guard was connected to an orange sleeve guard on his right wrist by an orange cloth strap. He spoke in a calm, almost delicate tone.
"Your ugliness can only be described as unforgivable."
"Hah?!" Ganju Shiba exploded in rage. "Your sense of beauty is what's truly unforgivable!"
The black-haired Shinigami narrowed his eyes.
"It seems you've just added another sin to your list…"
"Calm down, Yumichika," the bald Shinigami said, stopping his partner. "I'll go first."
Ichigo Kurosaki and Ganju both tensed at once. This bald guy clearly wasn't someone to take lightly.
The bald Shinigami stood solemnly at the edge of the sandpit, under the watchful gazes of Ichigo Kurosaki and Ganju…
He rose onto his tiptoes.
"Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump-thump-thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump-thump-thump!"
He hummed a rhythm as he traced two circles on the ground with his toes. Then he thrust his Zanpakutō forward with both hands and stomped his feet down hard.
"Thump!"
Dead silence followed.
"What the hell is this?!" the bald Shinigami roared in fury. "I went through the trouble of dancing a tiptoe dance just to wait for you idiots to crawl out of the sandpit, and you're all standing there staring like you're mesmerized?!"
Ichigo Kurosaki's face darkened.
"There's a pretty big difference between being mesmerized and being dumbfounded…"
"I thought it was kind of nice," Ganju Shiba said thoughtfully. "Why don't you do that bald dance again?"
The bald Shinigami bellowed, "It's a tiptoe dance!"
"Yeah, yeah, sure…" Ganju nodded while scrambling out of the sandpit. "Run!"
He turned and bolted.
Fast. Really fast.
"I'm telling you, those two have abnormal Reiatsu…" Ganju glanced back as he warned Ichigo Kurosaki. "Don't even think about—huh? Where'd you go?!"
Ichigo Kurosaki hadn't followed him.
"He's right here."
The black-haired Shinigami bent low and accelerated forward.
"Damn it…" Ganju muttered. He was already out, and going back now was pointless. Drawing one Shinigami away counted as helping. With that thought, he sped up even more.
"Hey!"
The bald Shinigami bounced in place, warming up with his Zanpakutō slung over his shoulder.
"Why aren't you running?"
Ichigo Kurosaki withdrew his gaze from Ganju's retreating back.
He hadn't reacted in time.
"That guy must've realized how strong we are, so he ran, right?" the bald Shinigami said, raising an eyebrow. "I think his judgment was spot on."
Ichigo Kurosaki climbed out of the sandpit.
"If you really are stronger than me, then running wouldn't help anyway. You'd catch up sooner or later."
The bald Shinigami grinned, finding this Ryoka unexpectedly interesting.
"On the other hand, if you're just all show and no substance…"
A cross-shaped weapon lifted from Ichigo Kurosaki's wrist. As his fingers curled, it transformed into a crescent-shaped spirit blade.
"Then I'll just knock you down and keep moving."
"Interesting… a Quincy?"
The bald Shinigami lifted his chin, looking down at Ichigo Kurosaki.
"Is that thing supposed to be a bow?"
"I can't use stuff like that," Ichigo Kurosaki said, raising the crescent blade. "Cutting people is way more my style—"
His voice cut off as he shifted slightly to the side.
A sharp flash of steel grazed past the tip of his nose and slammed into the ground, shattering the stone.
Ichigo Kurosaki's eyes widened as he swung the crescent blade straight toward the bald Shinigami's neck.
The bald Shinigami spun backward, blocking with his scabbard while thrusting his Zanpakutō toward Ichigo Kurosaki's chest.
Ichigo Kurosaki yanked his weapon. The shorter spirit blade slipped into his left hand as he knocked aside the Zanpakutō's tip.
They both stepped back half a pace at the same time, arms moving in unison.
Scabbard clashed with Zanpakutō.
Crescent blade crossed with spirit blade.
Blood dripped slowly as they instinctively pulled apart.
"Interesting…"
Blood seeped from a cut on the bald Shinigami's forehead. His Shihakushō was torn open across the chest, revealing solid, well-defined muscles.
"I thought you were just an ordinary Ryoka. Now you've got my interest. What's your name?"
Ichigo Kurosaki had a cut on his forehead as well, but what hurt more was the earlier impact of the scabbard against his chest, leaving his stomach churning.
"Ichigo Kurosaki."
"Ichigo, huh? Not a bad name."
"Really?"
Ichigo Kurosaki finally steadied his breathing.
"You're the first person who's ever said that."
"Yeah. Anyone with the character 'one' in their name is usually a man of real talent."
The bald Shinigami took up a fighting stance.
"11th Division, Third Seat, Vice-Officer's Assistant—Ikkaku Madarame! Since we both have a 'one,' let's have a proper fight!"
Ichigo Kurosaki: "..."
So all that talk earlier was just you praising yourself!