Emerging from the shadows, Aizen felt a headache coming on as countless eyes focused on him.
He disliked this kind of attention — otherwise, he wouldn't have hidden his true strength. But when you're stuck with a troublemaker like Akira, such trivial wishes become nothing but a luxury.
Suddenly, he began to regret the greeting he had given when he first entered the academy. If only he had a choice...
"Sōsuke, you can't just leave me to die!" Akira rushed to his side, wailing, "₭390,000! That old geezer Uruoi just wants me dead! You're so smart, you must have a way out of this, right?!"
Aizen's gaze was calm, his expression serene as he softly replied, "Actually... you already have a suitable plan in mind, don't you?"
If the future Aizen possessed the most penetrating gaze into the human heart, then the current version of him already had the makings of his future self. Perhaps he couldn't perfectly control people's hearts yet, but understanding someone wasn't a difficult task for him.
After spending so much time with this shrine priest, if he still couldn't figure out what kind of person he was dealing with, then he wouldn't deserve to be called Aizen.
Akira was a bit surprised, "How did you know I was planning to fleece some rich fool?"
Aizen fell silent. He suddenly realized that perhaps he didn't understand him as well as he thought he did.
"Hehe, although ₭390,000 is a lot, it's not like there's absolutely no way out." Akira casually draped his arm over Aizen's shoulders, their posture bringing to mind a particular idiom.
Partners in crime.
"I've asked around. That rich fool who bought the talisman is the sole heir of the Kuchiki family, the richest of the rich." Akira explained, his mood swings so rapid that even Aizen couldn't help but marvel, "Because of his gentle and kind nature, he's known as the nice guy of the Kuchiki family. Few nobles are as approachable as him. You just need to cooperate with me like this..."
He rambled on endlessly, his expression extremely excited, just like when he had slashed Uruoi with one stroke.
However, the joys and sorrows between people are not always shared, and Aizen only found him noisy. He knew that once this guy discovered him, nothing good would come of it. Well, now he'd become an accomplice.
Their conversation wasn't overheard by others, as the passing Shinigami were preoccupied with how to rebuild the men's dormitory of the Shin'ō Academy in the shortest possible time.
They couldn't let the students sleep in the ruins, could they?
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That day, the research and development group from the 12th Division entered the Shin'ō Academy, led by a beautiful woman named Shutara Senjumaru.
Under her command, a series of colorful fabric-woven house-like structures rose from the cleared areas, serving as temporary dormitories. The students were thus spared from having to sleep outdoors.
Upon learning that Akira was the culprit, some courageous students challenged him to duels. After deliberation, dozens of elite Sixth-Year students, under the supervision of stationed Shinigami, officially began a Hakuda duel.
The Shin'ō Academy, serving as a reserve for Shinigami, was no stranger to hot-blooded ruffians and hotheads who'd come to blows at the slightest provocation. To prevent frequent injuries and deaths from private fights, the Captain-Commander had established dueling rules when founding the academy.
These rules were comprehensive. Intentional killing was forbidden, duels required supervision by Shinigami Officers or Teachers, underhanded tactics were prohibited, elite students couldn't refuse duel challenges, and ordinary students couldn't challenge elite students at will, among other stipulations.
Given Akira's astonishing Zanjutsu skills — which had sent Teacher Uruoi flying with a single slash — the students seeking revenge wisely chose challenge him in Hakuda combat.
Naturally, Akira wouldn't refuse.
When his consciousness returned from his Zanpakutō's Inner World, he immediately noticed changes in himself.
First was a surge in his Reiatsu. Second was a sense of fullness in his spiritual body and soul — an overflow of Reishi. It felt as if a balloon full of air had suddenly been filled with water.
This strange sensation left him momentarily bewildered. Yet with these "punching bags" delivering themselves to his doorstep, how could he refuse his classmates' kind offer?
A Kidō barrier expanded, forming a large oval that enclosed both Akira and his challenger.
The student challenging him was Takeo Matsushita — a towering, robust figure with hands as large as palm-leaf fans and a face so meaty he looked more Hollow than Shinigami.
As an elite among the sixth-year students, Takeo was renowned in the Shin'ō Academy for his Hakuda expertise. He had already secured his future division placement before graduation. Moreover, during a practical training mission, he had once defeated a Hollow with the strength of a formal Shinigami in direct Hakuda combat.
"One must face the consequences of their actions." His voice rumbled like thunder, deep and heavy, his mere presence exuding an oppressive aura.
"Cut the crap. Fight if you're going to fight; if not, then scram." Akira grinned, "Or are you scared?"
Takeo's rage swelled, his bulging muscles quivering, his already exaggerated physique expanding even further.
Scared? Impossible. He was Takeo Matsushita, the man destined to become the strongest Shinigami Captain! How dare this insignificant worm provoke him?
"Very well. You're the first to anger me before a duel." He raised his iron-like arm, pointing at Akira, "You'll pay dearly for this."
With the pre-fight banter concluded, the referee signaled to start!
Takeo flexed his muscles and charged like an enraged bull. The ground trembled, dust clouds rising as his enormous, fan-like hand reached to grab. As his fingers closed, the air seemed to wail.
Unlike Yoruichi's agile and varied Hakuda techniques, Takeo's moves were grand and straightforward — no frills. He leveraged his massive frame to full advantage, immovable as a mountain when still, devastating as an avalanche in motion.
The Kidō barrier's limited space left little room for evasion. Akira had no choice but to confront him head-on.
Seemingly reckless, Takeo had actually calculated everything from the battle's start. Victory in this duel would surely be his!
Foolish brat, pay for your actions!
However, as his palm-leaf fan-sized hand was about to land, Takeo — staring at the emotionless Akira — felt an inexplicable chill in his heart.
Why isn't this kid dodging?!
Facing the looming shadow up close, Akira grinned. His fingers lightly stroked the air like plucking guitar strings, then suddenly clenched into a fist. With light footsteps, he stepped forward.
Then, his relatively slender fist, accompanied by a sharp sound slicing through the air, erupted with a surge of energy, striking straight ahead!
⤫⤬⤫
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