Chōjirō Sasakibe came to a halt before the imposing gates of the Squad 1 barracks and stepped aside, gesturing forward.
Yanagawa crossed the high, broad threshold alone.
Captain-Commander Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto was not seated atop the dais of honor.
Instead, he stood squarely in the center of the vast, dojo-like hall, resting both hands upon his weathered wooden cane.
“You’ve arrived,” a deep, aged voice rumbled.
Captain-Commander Yamamoto turned.
His expression lacked his customary stern severity, carrying instead an appraising gaze reminiscent of one regarding the descendant of an old acquaintance.
“Kidō Corpsman Yanagawa.”
“Captain-Commander, sir.” Yanagawa offered a proper, respectful bow—deferential, yet without a trace of servility.
He swiftly scanned his surroundings.
Aside from the two of them, the hall was deserted; even Lieutenant Sasakibe had not followed him inside.
“No need to stand on ceremony.” Captain-Commander Yamamoto took a few paces closer, his gaze resting upon Yanagawa as he unexpectedly struck up casual conversation.
“How fare things in the Kidō Corps lately?
The maintenance of the Senkaimon, the stability of the barriers—these are the bedrock of the Seireitei’s operations.
Your burdens are not light.”
A flicker of wariness crossed Yanagawa’s mind, yet his outward response remained calm and composed.
“I thank you for your concern, Captain-Commander.
My colleagues carry out their respective duties faithfully.
All is as usual.”
He kept his answer strictly by the book, though the seedling of doubt in his heart only swelled.
*The Captain-Commander is not the type to make idle small talk about the mundane affairs of a technical division.*
Yamamoto took a slow half-step, dropping the line of inquiry, and shifted the topic.
“The reason you were summoned today is not on my account.”
Yanagawa’s pulse gave a slight jump.
*Here it comes.*
Yamamoto angled his body slightly, casting his gaze toward a corner of the hall cast in deep shadow beneath a massive pillar.
“The one who wishes to see you is this gentleman.”
At that moment, the seemingly empty, pitch-black shadow began to ripple like water.
It was not someone stepping forth from the darkness; rather, the “darkness” itself was coalescing, taking shape.
A majestic aura unlike that of any Soul Reaper in the Seireitei—older, vaster, as if touching the fundamental laws of the world itself—diffused silently, filling every corner of the chamber in an instant.
The very Reishi in the hall seemed to thicken under its weight.
As the shadows peeled away, the figure of a monk emerged.
He was extraordinarily tall and burly, dressed in archaic robes, with an enormous string of prayer beads hung around his neck.
His features were rugged, yet his eyes held centuries of profound wisdom and sorrowful age.
Merely standing there, he seemed like a world unto himself.
In the presence of his naturally exuded aura, even the imposing presence of Captain-Commander Yamamoto seemed somewhat “ordinary” by comparison.
“Kidō Corpsman Yanagawa,” the monk spoke.
His voice possessed an uncanny, gentle calm as he addressed him directly by name.
“And you might be…?” Yanagawa inquired with polite deference, his senses honed to absolute focus.
For someone to appear silently within the inner sanctum of Squad 1, and for Captain-Commander Yamamoto to defer to him in such a manner, meant the man’s status was exalted beyond question.
“I am Ichibē Hyōsube,” the monk said slowly, his calm gaze resting on Yanagawa.
“I hail from the Soul King Palace—Squad Zero.”
*Squad Zero!
The Soul King Palace!*
Even if Yanagawa wasn’t intimately familiar with the highest echelons of this world’s hierarchy, the transcendent status implied by those two names was more than enough to set off alarm bells.
They were a mysterious entity standing above the Gotei 13, directly serving the foundational anchor of reality—the Soul King.
He was currently nothing more than an ordinary Kidō Corps member.
How could he have drawn the personal arrival of such a legendary figure?
“Surprised?” Ichibē seemed to see right through his bewilderment, the corner of his mouth curving into a faint, indecipherable smirk.
“Set your mind at ease.
The purpose of my visit…”
He paused, before dropping a revelation that rattled Yanagawa to the core.
“…is to convey an invitation to you on behalf of Lord Soul King.”
*An invitation…
from the Soul King?*
Yanagawa froze completely.
This was utterly beyond anything he had anticipated.
He had assumed the most likely scenario was that his “unorthodox” experiments had attracted scrutiny from the higher-ups.
He had braced for an interrogation or a reprimand, yet never in his wildest dreams did he imagine it would be an “invitation”—and from the supreme Soul King himself!
Ichibē continued in that steady, resonant tone, “As for why Lord Soul King took an interest in you of all people…
well, even I haven’t quite figured that one out.”
He gave a slight shake of his head, the large prayer beads at his neck clacking softly.
“Still, Lord Soul King always has his reasons.
Perhaps there’s something rather intriguing about you that even you haven’t realized.”
His eyes swept over Yanagawa from head to toe with keen interest, like a connoisseur admiring an unexpected, novel curiosity.
The sheer volume of information was staggering.
Even as Yanagawa scrambled to process it, thoughts raced through his mind: *The Soul King has noticed me, for reasons unknown.*
*As expected, this world is anything but ordinary.
It seems the Soul King is genuinely something else.*
Before he could ask a question, Ichibē casually began explaining, speaking almost in the breezy manner of someone introducing their own workplace:
“Squad Zero, you see, operates completely outside the Gotei 13.
We answer directly to Lord Soul King, and our primary duty is guarding the Soul King Palace.
The members of our squad are all individuals who achieved remarkable ‘creations’ in the Soul Society’s history, earning recognition and promotion.”
“‘Creations’?” Yanagawa keenly seized on the keyword.
“Indeed,” Ichibē nodded.
“For instance, inventing the Shihakushō, formulating the foundational theory of artificial souls, establishing the communication networks, or pioneering an indispensable path of healing and recovery—all of them are cornerstones that shaped the Soul Society into what it is today.”
Yanagawa pondered this in silence.
His silence was not born of fear, but of a rapid gathering of wits after profound shock, coolly weighing the situation.