After washing off the blood and rinsing out my new clothes, I wrung them dry and hung them on some nearby bushes.
While they were drying in the sun, I sat down to meditate with the blade on my knees.
Meditation has never been easy for me.
Perhaps because I’ve never been able to relax properly.
Even now, I was on edge, keeping watch to ensure no one stole my clothes.
After thinking for a bit, I placed the second sword next to the first and, as usual, began to fill them with my spiritual energy.
I focused my mind, listening to the rustle of leaves and the gentle murmur of the stream…
… and an hour and a half later, I was forced to admit, just as I had thousands of times before, that I felt ab-so-lute-ly nothing.
Maybe I should just give up.
All I can feel are dead lumps of iron resting on my knees… they are nothing more than high-quality tools that never truly belonged to me.
Even in the inventory they are in one slot, they are so inexpressive.
x2 Inactive Zanpakuto – C
What new things will you tell me, Hero’s Diary?
Item: Inactive Zanpakuto
Rank: C
Properties: An ideal conduit for spiritual energy.
Blade Spirit Vessel.
Description: A Zanpakuto that survived the death of its wielder.
It possessed enough willpower to retain its physical form, but lacked the strength for anything else.
Not a trace of the original owner’s spiritual essence remains within it.
And not the slightest clue.
Thanks, Diary.
You’re a big help.
The second blade had an identical description to this one, which I had seen hundreds of thousands of times.
Every single cursed, failed meditation session.
*Sigh*…
I just don’t know what to do anymore.
Come to think of it, the Hero’s Diary is also a form of my unique power.
True, but the problem is that it originated from a fragment of the Soul King and had no direct connection to a Zanpakuto.
Could it be that I was a Hollow before arriving in the Soul Society, and that’s the root of the problem?
But that makes no sense.
Even if that were the case, I surely would have been purified by a Shinigami’s sword…
which means only the power of a “Plus”, a Shinigami’s power, should remain.
So, what is the problem?
Why can’t I obtain my own Zanpakuto?
Why?!
I slap my knees in disappointment and get up off the ground.
Time to move on.
Soul King forbid, my sword spirit turns out to be some squeamish diva who refused to manifest in a “used” sword and ignored me for seven fucking years because of it.
God forbid!
I don’t know what I’d do, but it would definitely be something terrible.
Hah, there’s a reason every Shinigami needs an Asauchi.
There are, of course, unique individuals like Zaraki, whose example I followed, or Ichigo, but they don’t even qualify as examples.
He is the protagonist, after all.
Most likely, my soul won’t be able to overwrite the previous owner’s imprint on the blade, no matter how hard I try.
After dismissing the unnecessary windows, I opened my status screen.
I admit, I have a bit of a nagging habit of doing that.
The recent slaughter had boosted several of my skill levels, and absorbing Hikaru’s Reiryoku had noticeably increased my spiritual power, yet I hadn’t managed to break through to the next rank.
No such luck.
What can I do?
I’ve outgrown my starting location, it’s time to look for bigger problems.
Ah, some people really lucked out living in the First District…
A kind old lady takes you in, you find a very cute childhood friend, and your Zanpakuto is practically itching to meet you.
Yes, Toshiro, I’m talking about you.
After eating a few tasteless rice cakes, I found myself longing for plain old salt again.
It seems the only way I can season my food is by crying over it.
Scooping some river water into my gourd, I moved on.
Soon the system will assign me a new quest, and we’ll see what happens from there.
What do I know about this area, other than the fact that the pint-sized Yachiru materializes here?
No-thing.
By the way, what about District 78?
That’s where the future Kuchiki sisters and Renji supposedly live.
Information Note: According to the Hero’s memory, the characters Rukia Kuchiki, Hisana Kuchiki, and Renji Abarai reside in the 78th District of Southern Rukongai.
Ah… No luck.
Who else might I run into?
…
Unfortunately, the information briefing didn’t give me an answer to that question, so I trudged dejectedly toward Kusajishi.
Honestly, this dump was no different from Zaraki, nor were the next five districts.
Crossing them took quite a bit of time and money, considering the need for food and sleep, but at least I got to see how people lived.
It was the same old story: hungry, destitute vagrants in rags and without shoes.
Gangs ran the show, though they seemed a bit more skittish.
At least in District 70, you didn’t have to step over corpses at the market, and the market itself actually looked like…
well, a market.
People were busy doing things rather than just aimlessly loitering, drinking, and dying for no reason at all.
When I put on a proper kimono, people began to eye me with deep wariness.
Clean clothes and sandals scared them much more than two blades on the belt, and that already said something about the society.
Despite titles that boosted my chances of landing quests and improved my standing among those from the outlying districts, I continued to face fear and hostility.
Yet, when people learned I was from Zaraki, the fear they felt stemmed from entirely different reasons.
On top of everything else, his neat appearance, like moths to a flame, attracted all sorts of scum of a gangster type.
The trail of corpses I left in my wake could rival…
well, it’s hard to even find a comparison.
Besides, I could treat this as a side hustle, seeing as people were approaching me for my services less and less often.
If things keep going this way, I’ll raise my spiritual power rank to A very soon.
And that, I assume, is enough to stake a claim for a spot among the top five officers.
While making my way toward the Seireitei, I questioned the proprietors of various establishments… if one could politely apply that term to the taverns where I enjoyed my meals.
It might have been a trick of perception, but everything I ate outside of Zaraki finally stopped tasting rotten, limp, and bland.
The variety, of course, was lacking, but here they bake bread, as strange as it may sound…
in the oven!
A wretched oven, perhaps, but an oven nonetheless, not just out in the sun!
Now it’s clear why I’m constantly as angry as a rabid dog, killing people left and right.
I was simply hungry!
But back to the news.
I didn’t manage to learn much, though a few things regarding the global timeline did become clearer to me.
About a hundred years ago, some war thundered.
I assume it was the “First Quincy-Shinigami War.” The Reapers had long since crushed Yhwach’s Lichtreich and were now supposed to be carrying out mass purges of the Quincy…
Or would they try to cooperate first, only to start slaughtering everyone later?
In any case, I don’t envy the “White-and-Blues.” What else?
The Guardian Squad had been renamed the Gotei 13.
Their roster of captains apparently hadn’t changed since then.
At least, that was the word among the folks living on the outskirts of Rukongai.
Now, that was interesting.
I might even get lucky enough to see Yoruichi’s ancestor, provided Chika Shihōin was still alive.
Besides, according to the gossip from my unexpected drinking companions, there were a couple of rather attractive women among the captains.
A pity none of them survived until the canon era, right?
Then again, almost all the other men were lunatics, utter scumbags, or both at once.
It wasn’t for nothing that Yhwach himself said the Gotei used to be a band of bloodthirsty killers.
Was that really the place for me?
It’s a bit of a blow to the ego, I suppose, but there’s no use getting offended by the truth.
They supposedly renamed the Shinigami Academy to the Academy of Spiritual Arts, but everyone still calls it by the old name.
The next school year will begin in the fall, but now, as I learned, it’s only the beginning of summer.
It’s damn hard to figure anything out without a calendar, especially when your schedule isn’t tied to the days of the week at all.
So, what have I learned?
The entire lieutenant and captain staff of Aizen’s time, like the dark genius himself, were presumably not yet born.
And I have roughly eight hundred years to prepare for the resurrection of the Soul King’s son…
I hope that’s enough.
By the way…
since the Gotei captains haven’t changed, does that mean Unohana is still Kenpachi?
Has she gotten her scar yet?
No idea.
Rumors aren’t exactly a reliable source of information.
Even so, Soul King, just how far back did you send me?
I don’t know a soul here!
At most, the only names that come to mind are Jushiro and Kyoraku, plus that unhinged aristocrat Tsunayashiro from the “Can’t Fear Your Own World” novel.
If only I actually remembered anything about it!
My Fullbring’s Note is my only hope.
But just think about it!
Soya Azashiro hasn’t even been born yet, and Kirio Hikifune is nowhere near being a captain, let alone a Royal Guard.
It’s wild!
Am I actually going to see Byakuya’s grandfather when he was young?
Resting my face on my hand, I sank into deep thought.
On the one hand, I had a massive head start before the global shitstorm hit.
But on the other…
I didn’t have the faintest clue about the events of the next 500 years.
By the way, since I mentioned Tsunayashiro, I shouldn’t forget Tousen’s girl friend, whose Suzumushi he inherited.
And that girl from the novel, Aura Michibane, who could somehow recover from decapitation by manipulating her own flesh.
Now that is the pinnacle of mastery to aspire to.
Ginjo and Tsukishima are mere children compared to her.
Leaving a couple of coins as a tip, I stepped out onto the dreary streets, careful not to disturb the people sleeping under rags.
I had once been one of them.
And now, a long journey lay ahead of me once more.
As the days passed, I slept, ate and trained in the forests.
The districts flashed past me, imprinted in my memory.
In the sixties, things weren’t much better for people, but for some reason the level of carnage dropped dramatically.
I even started to get bored.
Somewhere in the 55th district, I had just gotten used to not looking at shoes as a luxury item, and a blood-stained kimono was no longer considered a sign of a successful and strong young man.
In short, the closer I got to Seireitei, the more clearly the ragged vagabond in me began to show through
Honestly, the thought crossed my mind to hang around the thirtieth district for a couple of months before making the pilgrimage to the academy.
After all, what’s the rush?
If I showed up there a month or two early, who would even want me around?
And, crucially, how would I afford to live there?
The System, seemingly in agreement, even issued a quest for it.
Quest: The Start of a New Life II
Description: You have broken free from your voluntary confinement.
Now it is time to find a temporary place to stay until the chance arises to enroll in the Academy of Spiritual Arts.
Objectives: Acquire a house in a district numbered 50 or lower by any means necessary.
(Optional): Find a source of income.
(Optional): Make a friend or companion with whom you can head to the Academy of Spiritual Arts.
Wow, that’s rude.
Who are you, my mother, to tell me to find a job and make friends?
Maybe you’ll also tell me to eat well and wear a hat?
I would have continued my mental monologue, but my optimistic plans and hopes for the future were abruptly interrupted by the sight of the ruins of District 43 in Northern Rukongai.
The closer I got, the harder it became to breathe…
The residual Reiatsu of the Hollows still could be felt all around.
The smoldering ruins of shacks still smoked here and there, while the corpses of torn-apart souls and soldier Shinigami lay scattered in pools of their own blood…
In some places, one could even spot bodies that had been lucky enough to die in one piece.
Rising like occasional mountains amidst this carnage were the colossal remains of low-level Hollows.
Granted, they were small compared to a hypothetical Menos Grande, yet some were the size of a massive Kamaz truck.
And since they hadn’t yet dissolved into Reishi, a process that follows the magical cleansing of sins, it meant they had been slain using Kido or Hakuda.
To be honest, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen a scene like this.
Yet, without undue cynicism, I have to admit it’s horrific, and still capable of striking fear into my soul.
For the Soul Society, a Hollow invasion is roughly akin to a natural disaster in the World of the Living…
Sure, the right person in the right place could have sorted it all out, but a high-and-mighty captain isn’t exactly going to uproot himself from his cushy post just to protect a bunch of extras in some godforsaken place like Kusajishi, is he?
If they die, they die, big deal.
We kill a few Hollows and—ta-da—the Balance is restored.
But I’m getting sidetracked.
What is there to do in a situation like this?
Scavenge?
With pleasure!
There certainly weren’t any survivors left by now, my Detection skill confirmed as much.
And judging by the fact that there wasn’t a single intact blade, or even the hilt of a broken one, to be seen, the Shinigami wouldn’t be coming back here.
As far as I know, they do that to identify the fallen.
They even collect the arm badges from officers’ bodies.
Well, except for the 11th Division, those guys are a bunch of slackers.
I used to have a few of those badges myself, but I traded them for food.
It’s a pity, of course, but hunger is an enemy, as Saber said.
Quest: One for the Human, Another for the Monster I
Description: Not every soul-eater is granted such a feast at the start of their journey.
Devour the remains of Shinigami with one blade and the remains of Hollows with the other to seal these opposing energies into separate vessels.
Objective: Devour the corpses of Shinigami (0/8) and Lesser Hollows (0/5).
(Optional): Devour the corpses of ordinary souls (0/11).
Requirement: 2x Inactive Zanpakuto
Oh my, hello there…
Two quests in a row, it turns out Diary can do that too?
It’s not that I don’t trust my own power, but the idea of devouring a Hollow sounds a bit too bizarre, even for me.
Nothing is actually forcing me to do this quest, and failing it carries no penalty, so I’ll hold off on it for now.
But a Shinigami…
I’ve never devoured a real Soul Reaper before, so I’m curious to see what kind of power boost I’d get.
Obviously, they’ve been lying here for quite a while, so I wouldn’t gain much, but it’s the qualitative aspect that matters.
A black-and-gold sword was chosen for this noble purpose.
The choice was driven more by sentiment than by any sacred significance.
Yet, it also meant that the cobalt-blue one remained reserved for the Hollows…
should I decide to go through with it.
As I jabbed my blade alternately into ordinary souls and Shinigami, I could truly sense the difference.
It is hard to put that distinction into eloquent words, and I am not a Hollow, after all.
I don’t have a palate for the taste of souls.
I can only compare it to water: one cup is fresh from a spring, while the other has been sitting on a windowsill for a month.
Why a cup?
Because I got very little out of them.
They had been here for quite some time already.
Even more unexpected than stumbling upon a ruined village was encountering the looter who had been helping himself to the place before I arrived.
His Reiatsu was so faint that it was lost amidst the cacophony of background energies.
We stood frozen, staring at each other in wide-eyed shock.
Me wreathed in a halo of blue sparks, and him clutching a sack full of plunder.
Needless to say, we didn’t exactly part ways amicably.
̶(̶8̶/̶8̶)̶
̶(̶1̶2̶/̶1̶1̶)̶
Having finished this tedious and time-consuming task, I felt more like a janitor than a ” soul-eater”.
What a grandiose title Fullbring had given me.
But then, a piece of news from the Diary caught my eye and lifted my spirits.
Stat Increase!
Spiritual Power: B → A
Tere-te-ttē!
~ ♪ ~ Kaoru leveled up!
Damn, finally.
It’s been years since my spirit power rank last went up.
Now I won’t be ashamed to show my plebeian mug at the academy.
The only downside is having to level up Presence Concealment and Spirit Energy Control all over again, and those were already my weak points.
Sheathing the first blade, I drew the second.
Standing next to the huge carcass of a monster that would soon begin to melt away, I hoped that after this I wouldn’t emit too much Hollow energy.
Otherwise, I’d urgently need to find a Garganta.
Having somewhat paranoidly scanned the nearest kilometers of space with my internal radar, I exhaled.
Someone might be watching me, perhaps, but it was unlikely.
The Gotei would have gutted me or thrown me into the Nest of Maggots by now if the 12th Division’s detection technology weren’t still in its infancy.
Azashiro had managed to achieve Bankai right inside Seireitei, after all, and no one would have ever found out about it if he hadn’t shown up years later and suddenly cut down a captain.
After walking around for about thirty minutes, twirling my zanpakuto in my hands, I still couldn’t bring myself to act.
The quest said “seal”, which meant the energy would be absorbed by the sword, not me, like it had been with the Reiryoku of Shinigami…
Hoping that my own Fullbring’s plan wouldn’t kill me, I pierced the Hollow’s flesh with my katana.
I had initially considered striking through the mask, but I didn’t want to accidentally purify it.
With a knot of anxiety in my chest, I activated the skill and tightened my grip on the hilt.
And not in vain, because the sword absorbed disgusting negative reiatsu, which severely burned my hand.
(1/5)
My Spiritual Shroud took the brunt of the damage, yet a dark burn remained on my palm.
With Regeneration active, the foreign Reatsu was purged from my hand within a couple of minutes, but the phantom sensation of pain lingered.
Imagining that I would have to repeat this process four more times, I cursed under my breath.
Still, after clenching my hand into a fist a couple of times, I moved on to the next carcass.
Subsequent operations were no different.
Absorb, heal, and so on in a circle.
My skill of Detachment was intensifying rapidly, yet I still winced at the pain.
It felt as though, in this situation, I was acting more as a filter than a recipient.
̶(̶5̶/̶5̶)̶
Quest completed
All objectives met
Thank the Soul King, that’s over.
I feel completely drained.
And those were just five low-level Hollows , who, given a day or two, would have dispersed into reishi.
I can’t imagine how Muramasa felt when he was devouring Menos Grandes by the dozen.
It burns like dipping your hand in acid.
Noticing no new skills or other changes in my status, I let out a disappointed sigh.
Phew, after that it wouldn’t hurt to get a good night’s sleep.
Somewhere there on the outskirts I saw a relatively intact house…