“What a terrifying ability…” Shinji remarked, glancing at Kensei Muguruma with a sigh of admiration.
“Having such a powerful support on our side certainly saves us a lot of worry.”
“Hmph,” Ichigo replied noncommittally before asking, “Aren’t you planning to go back?
To the Soul Society?”
“Nah.” Shinji shook his head, a faint, bleak smile playing on his lips.
“Those guys went too far back then.
Some of us handled it okay, but others were left completely disillusioned with the Soul Society.”
“It’s not like you guys are going back to *protect* the Soul Society,” Ichigo countered with a shrug.
“Don’t you want to go over there and give that guy a few good slashes?”
“I do, but I’ll pass,” Shinji continued.
“We aren’t the same as you.
When you invade Seireitei, to be honest, many of the Captains will just go through the motions.”
“Oh?
Why?”
“Because you’re just a human.
A human,” Shinji laughed, his voice laced with irony.
“Those old fogies don’t take your kind very seriously.
At the end of the day, you’re just a human boy; it’s not like you can turn the world upside down.”
“Hmm…
I guess that’s a fair point.”
“But we’re different.” Shinji toyed with the sword in his hand.
“We’ve been completely branded with the ‘Kisuke Urahara’ label.
You haven’t.
Your trip to the Soul Society doesn’t necessarily signal anything major.
But if *all* of us show up?
That would be proof that Kisuke is planning something big.”
“That kind of chaos isn’t what we’re looking for.
If things get too messy, we might end up with casualties on our own side.”
“I see…”
Rubbing his chin, Ichigo realized he hadn’t thought that far ahead.
He had planned to head out with the simple mindset of rushing into the Seireitei and slashing everything in sight—the bigger the commotion, the easier it would be to flush Aizen out.
But on second thought, total anarchy wasn’t ideal.
“What a pain,” Ichigo sighed, shaking his head.
“Can’t we just have a real, honest-to-god fight?
Winner stays, loser gets kicked to the curb.”
“By that logic, we’re the ultimate losers,” Shinji remarked.
“…True.” Ichigo gave Shinji a supportive pat on the back and grinned. Get faster updates on g.com.
“It’s fine.
I’ll settle the score for you guys.
I’ll make sure to give that guy a few extra cuts.”
“Well, thanks for that!”
The days that followed became a simple routine.
Chad and Orihime spent their time commuting in a tight loop between school, home, and the Visoreds’ warehouse.
Once the holidays hit, the loop narrowed to just home and the warehouse.
In less than two weeks, under the guidance and sparring partnership of Love Aikawa and Kensei Muguruma, Chad’s strength improved dramatically.
The mutation ability in his right arm evolved, and a new quality began to bleed into his spiritual pressure.
Love and Kensei felt this progress firsthand.
What started as effortless domination turned into a struggle; eventually, if they weren’t wearing their masks and using their Shikai, they might actually find themselves at a disadvantage.
This meteoric rise left the Visoreds privately stunned, all of them thinking the same thing: *the friend of a monster is no slouch either.*
Orihime’s progress wasn’t as explosive as Chad’s.
It wasn’t due to a lack of effort or any inherent disadvantage of being female; it was simply that the structure of her ability wasn’t suited for frontline combat.
Once Hachigen Yasuda pointed this out, Orihime largely abandoned her offensive training and shifted her focus to defense and healing.
The latter, in particular, flourished; as her spiritual pressure grew, her speed in recovering both wounds and energy increased significantly.
Gradually, however, the Visoreds began to notice that Orihime’s abilities were starting to behave…
strangely.
As for the Quincy of the group, Uryu spent his time training in seclusion at home.
This wasn’t because he preferred solitude, but because Quincy training followed a rigid system.
Among those he knew, there was only one master of that system: his father, Ryuken Ishida.
Although Ryuken was reluctant to let his son fight as a Quincy, he agreed to provide targeted training once Uryu expressed his desire to help Ichigo.
The experience was grueling—so much so that Uryu occasionally regretted asking for it.
Ichigo’s own training was far more understated.
He spent his time in a state of “Sword Zen,” training within his mental space.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want formal instruction; it was more that there was simply no one in the physical world who could properly guide him.
Whether it was the trio at Urahara’s, the Visoreds, or his own father—even combined, they struggled to be effective mentors.
This wasn’t to say Ichigo was already strong enough to defeat them easily.
Rather, in a teacher-student setting, it was difficult for both sides to use their full power.
Certain Bankai were too dangerous to use around allies, risking accidental injury, and a training session could easily devolve into a genuine deathmatch if one wasn’t careful.
Not everyone possessed Ichigo’s precise control.
After about half a month, Ichigo and his three companions received a notification from Kisuke Urahara to gather at the Urahara Shop that evening.
Much like the Visoreds’ warehouse, the shop appeared ordinary on the surface, but beneath it lay a vast underground space.
Architecturally, the two locations were nearly identical; given the gap in intelligence, it was likely that the former had been modeled after the latter. Read this novel at novelping.com for the best experience.
“Oh!
Ichigo!
Long time no see!” Keigo Asano shouted.
“We’re here to see you off!”
Standing beside Keigo were Mizuiro and Tatsuki—Ichigo’s classmates and friends.
They were also high-spiritual-power individuals; Ichigo hadn’t kept secrets from them and had introduced them to Urahara once they began seeing ghosts.
Keigo, in particular, was a prime target for Hollows due to his high spiritual energy.
Living in neighboring Naruki City, he couldn’t always be rescued in time during an attack, so he needed a few “special tools” for self-defense—and Kisuke Urahara was the undisputed expert in that field.
“Oh, hey!” Ichigo greeted them.
“You didn’t have to come.
It’s not a big deal, just a quick trip to the Soul Society.”
“You make it sound so casual,” Mizuiro laughed.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were going on a school trip.”
“Pretty much,” Ichigo nodded.
“Once I get a foothold over there and take over a couple of blocks, you guys can come visit and see what the afterlife is like.”
“Listen to you,” Tatsuki deadpanned.
“I thought you said it was a school trip.”
“Same difference.
Just a side project.”
“First, let me clarify,” Urahara intervened, pulling down the brim of his hat.
“According to reliable intelligence, Rukia Kuchiki’s execution has been moved up.
It will likely take place in seven days.
We don’t have much time.
The Senkaimon is right behind me.”
Behind him stood a rectangular gateway made of white paper adorned with complex patterns.
Calling it a “door” was generous; it looked more like three pillars crudely assembled.
“Seven days is plenty,” Ichigo said nonchalantly.
“Speaking of which,” Uryu said, pushing up his glasses, “what a crude piece of work.
There’s no aesthetic sense to it at all.”
“Hah!” Urahara suddenly produced a fan from nowhere and hid his face behind it.
“I’m a pragmatist!
Appearance doesn’t matter as long as it works!”
“Fair enough.
As long as the function is there,” Ichigo agreed, stepping forward.
“Let’s go, everyone.”