Chōjirō Sasakibe stopped in front of the majestic gates of the First Division barracks and gestured to the side.
Yanagawa crossed the high threshold alone.
The scene inside was slightly different from the solemn and oppressive atmosphere he had anticipated; it felt even more profound.
The light within the vast space was tranquil, and the air was thick with a solemnity forged by the passage of time and the weight of immense spiritual pressure.
Captain-Commander Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto was not seated on the high dais.
Instead, he stood in the center of the spacious, dojo-like hall, both hands resting on his ancient staff, his silhouette as imposing and immovable as a mountain.
“You have arrived.”
The aged yet resonant voice echoed.
Captain-Commander Yamamoto turned around.
There was no usual sternness on his face; instead, he looked as if he were observing the descendant of an old friend.
“Kido Corps member Yanagawa.”
“Captain-Commander.”
Yanagawa offered a respectful greeting, his posture deferential yet not servile.
He scanned his surroundings quickly.
Aside from the two of them, there was no one else in the hall; even Lieutenant Chōjirō had not followed him in.
“No need for such formalities.”
Captain-Commander Yamamoto took a few steps closer.
His gaze, weathered by a thousand years of storms, fell upon Yanagawa as he unexpectedly began to make small talk.
“How have things been in the Kido Corps lately?
The maintenance of the Senkaimon and the stability of the barriers are the foundations of the Seireitei’s operation.
Your duties are of great importance.”
Yanagawa felt a slight sense of unease, but he answered calmly,
“Thank you for your concern, Captain-Commander.
My colleagues are all attending to their respective duties, and everything is as usual.”
His answer was standard and proper, but his inner suspicions quietly grew.
Yamamoto Genryūsai was certainly not the type of person to have the leisure to concern himself with the mundane daily affairs of a technical department.
Captain-Commander Yamamoto paced half a step, stopped pressing the matter, and shifted the topic.
“I did not summon you here today because I had an urgent matter of my own.”
Yanagawa’s heart stirred; it was finally coming.
Captain-Commander Yamamoto turned slightly, his gaze fixed on a corner of the hall shrouded by the shadows of massive pillars, where the light could barely reach.
He said in a deep voice,
“The one who wishes to see you is this person.”
As if triggered by a spell, the thick shadows that had been empty a moment ago suddenly rippled like water.
It was not that someone had stepped out from the darkness; rather, the “darkness” itself was condensing and taking shape.
An immense aura, distinct from any Shinigami in the Seireitei—more ancient, profound, and seemingly touching upon the fundamental rules of the world—spread silently, instantly filling the entire space.
The stable Reishi within the hall seemed to become viscous and submissive under this aura.
The shadows receded, revealing a figure dressed as a monk.
He was exceptionally tall and burly, dressed in simple, ancient clothing, with massive dark prayer beads hanging around his neck.
His face was rugged, yet his eyes seemed to contain both wisdom and the weariness of ages.
He stood there as if he were a world unto himself.
Even Captain-Commander Yamamoto’s spiritual pressure, which was enough to suppress the entire Soul Society, seemed to become somewhat “ordinary” beside the aura naturally exuding from this person.
“Kido Corps member Yanagawa.”
The monk spoke, his voice deep like a booming bell, yet it carried no oppression; instead, it held a strange sense of peace as he called him by name.
“Who might you be?”
Yanagawa maintained a polite inquiry, but his mind was highly focused.
His spiritual power flowed silently within him like mercury, ready to respond to any unknown developments.
The fact that the other party could appear so silently in the heart of the First Division and elicit such an attitude from Captain-Commander Yamamoto made his status self-evidently exalted.
“I am Ichibē Hyōsube,” the giant dressed as a monk said slowly, his gaze falling calmly upon Yanagawa.
“I come from the Soul King Palace, the Zero Division.”
The Zero Division!
The Soul King Palace!
Even though Yanagawa did not have a deep understanding of the high-level structure of this world, the transcendent status represented by these two terms was enough to shake him to his core.
They were mysterious entities that stood above the Gotei 13 and served directly under the “Soul King,” the foundation of the world.
He was currently just an ordinary Kido Corps member; how could he have alarmed such a person to come in person?
“Surprised?”
Ichibē Hyōsube seemed to see through his confusion, a faint, unreadable curve tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Do not be anxious.
I have not come to hold you accountable, nor to inspect you.”
He paused, and the next sentence he spoke caused a true crack in Yanagawa’s composure.
“I am here on the orders of the Soul King to deliver an invitation to you.”
The Soul King…
an invitation?
Yanagawa was completely stunned; this was entirely beyond all his expectations.
He had assumed the most likely scenario was that some “unconventional” research had caught the attention of his superiors, leading to a warning or investigation, but he had never imagined it would be an “invitation,” and one originating from the supreme Soul King at that!
Ichibē Hyōsube continued in that calm and grand voice,
“As to why the Soul King specifically took a liking to you, well, even I haven’t quite figured that out.”
He shook his head slightly, the massive prayer beads around his neck clinking softly.
“But the Soul King always has his reasons.
Perhaps there is something quite interesting about you that even you haven’t noticed yet.”
His gaze swept over Yanagawa from top to bottom with great interest, as if he were admiring some novel discovery.
The amount of information was overwhelming.
As Yanagawa quickly processed it, he muttered to himself:
The Soul King has noticed me, for unknown reasons.
This world is indeed not simple, and this Soul King certainly has a good eye.
This world was truly extraordinary; it seemed the Soul King was indeed quite something.
Before he could ask any questions, Ichibē Hyōsube began to speak in a casual tone, almost as if he were introducing his “own department.”
“The Zero Division, you see, is independent of the Gotei 13 and serves directly under the Soul King.
Our main duty is to guard the Soul King Palace.
The members of the division are all individuals who have made remarkable ‘creations’ in the Soul Society in the past and were promoted after being recognized for them.”
“Creations?”
Yanagawa keenly seized upon this keyword.
“Correct.”
Ichibē Hyōsube nodded.
“For instance, inventing the Shihakushō, constructing the foundational theory of Gikongan, establishing the communication technology system, or pioneering a crucial path for healing and recovery—these are all cornerstones that laid the foundation for the current form of the Soul Society.”
Yanagawa pondered silently.
He remained silent for a moment—not out of fear, but because, after the extreme shock, he was quickly gathering his wits to weigh the situation.