"Genius… This is true genius."
The headmaster of Shin'ō Academy gazed at the portrait of Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto hanging on the office wall, his eyes welling up with excitement. His already gleaming bald head somehow seemed even shinier under the light.
Not just Masatsuki Aozaki—even Sōjun Kuchiki couldn't help but narrow his eyes at the display.
"If Captain-Commander Yamamoto is watching over us from Hell, then Soul Society will surely prosper for another two thousand years."
Masatsuki, who had been peacefully sipping tea, nearly choked to death. The struggle to suppress his laughter was obvious on his face.
"Uh… Headmaster, Captain-Commander Yamamoto is still alive."
Sōjun Kuchiki hesitantly raised his hand.
"I know, I know. It's not that he's dying… cough cough… I meant to say, Captain-Commander Yamamoto is getting old, isn't he?"
The headmaster cleared his throat and sighed deeply.
"He's spent centuries tirelessly protecting Soul Society. Finally, there's someone who can lighten his burden."
Sōjun Kuchiki was left speechless.
Did the headmaster just curse the Captain-Commander? And then backpedal so quickly? The way he could lie without hesitation was truly something.
He distinctly remembered that the headmaster hadn't always been this way.
Had Masatsuki's overwhelming talent shaken him that much?
That was the only reasonable explanation. Otherwise, the alternative was that he was simply too overjoyed and had finally dropped his noble façade…
"Aozaki-kun, come, let's head to the Zanjutsu Dojo. Show the headmaster your Shikai."
The headmaster grinned, attempting what he probably thought was a kind and encouraging smile.
Unfortunately, his wrinkled face had nothing to do with kindness, and the result was anything but reassuring. If anything, this was the kind of grin that could stop a crying baby in the middle of the night.
Masatsuki smiled faintly and followed the headmaster and Sōjun Kuchiki to the Zanjutsu Dojo.
He let out a slow breath, his gaze flickering to Rangiku and Gin waiting for him outside the door.
Then, in a steady voice, he called out—
"Utsuse, Banshō Senran!" (Reflect, All Things in Existence")
Masatsuki slowly drew his Zanpakutō. At some point, a white ribbon had wrapped around the hilt, connected to a cross-shaped star blade ring.
He slipped his fingers into the ring, giving it a gentle flick. The katana spun in place, elegantly twirling through the air.
"The Zanpakutō has undergone a form change. Reiatsu output has tripled. A direct-attack-type Zanpakutō, perhaps?"
The headmaster slowly stood up, stroking the long beard he had carefully cultivated over the years. Leaning slightly forward, he observed every detail with rapt attention.
Yet, despite everything, his smile never wavered—there wasn't even a trace of disappointment.
While direct-attack-type Zanpakutō were often seen as having a more straightforward combat approach compared to Kidō-based ones, that wasn't an issue. Limitations could always be compensated for through skill and strategy.
After all these years as headmaster of Shin'ō Academy, he had finally encountered a once-in-a-millennium genius.
This child… he might one day stand on equal ground with Captain-Commander Yamamoto or the legendary first Kenpachi, Retsu Unohana.
And when that day came—when this boy became the pillar of Soul Society—everyone would know:
It was I who discovered this genius.
At that thought, the headmaster couldn't help but grin even wider, his expression bordering on comical.
Watching the increasingly exaggerated smile on the headmaster's face, Masatsuki Aozaki and Sōjun Kuchiki both felt the same inexplicable feeling rise in their chests—
A deep, overwhelming sense of helplessness.
Masatsuki looked directly at the headmaster, who seemed lost in thought, and spoke calmly.
"Headmaster, is this enough?"
"No problem! From this moment on, this Zanpakutō belongs to you!"
Masatsuki sheathed his sword, running his fingers over the hilt as a sharp glint flickered in his eyes.
Only he knew the true power hidden within this blade.
After exchanging a few more words, the headmaster personally escorted Masatsuki and Sōjun Kuchiki out of the office.
As they stepped out of the academy building, Sōjun, who had been walking behind Masatsuki, suddenly paused.
"Aozaki-kun, you need to be especially careful in the days to come."
Masatsuki glanced at him but remained silent.
After a brief moment of thought, Sōjun continued.
"Soul Society isn't as peaceful as it appears on the surface. The power struggles among the noble families are growing fiercer by the day."
"Each major faction is desperately expanding its influence to strengthen their position. Even the Kuchiki clan hasn't been able to stay out of it."
"And right now, what the nobles need most… is someone like you—young, exceptionally talented. It's inevitable that you'll catch their attention."
"If you accept their offers, you'll become nothing more than a sword in their hands. From that moment on, your fate will no longer be your own."
"To them, swords are just weapons. And weapons… once broken, are nothing more than discarded scraps. They won't care where you end up."
"Moreover, if you align yourself with one faction, you'll become a prime target for the others. And when it comes to their enemies, nobles don't show mercy."
"We, the ones in high places, are stained by filth. You deserve a bright and promising future—don't let yourself be dragged into this wretched mire just for the sake of fleeting gains."
As he spoke, a self-deprecating smile tugged at Sōjun's lips.
In truth, he had never wished to be caught in the storm of noble conflicts. But being born into the Kuchiki clan—one of the Four Great Noble Houses—meant he had never been given a choice.
He despised this reality with every fiber of his being, yet he was powerless to change it.
"Sensei, you're a good man."
Masatsuki shook his head and replied with unwavering seriousness.
"Don't worry. I have no interest in the wealth or power the nobles dangle before me. Right now, my only focus is training at Shin'ō Academy."
And that was the absolute truth.
He had dealt with nobles before—enough to have a general grasp of Soul Society's current state, even if he wasn't privy to its deepest secrets.
If this were an era of peace, joining a noble house might have been a path to prosperity.
But right now, Soul Society was a mess. Noble heirs were dying left and right. For a commoner from Rukongai like him, joining a noble family now was nothing short of suicide.
Even with his current Sixth-Class Reiatsu Rank, he wouldn't stand out among the assassins and elite warriors raised in noble households.
Seeing the determination in Masatsuki's eyes, Sōjun let out a quiet sigh of relief.
The world of power and wealth was intoxicating—money, status, beautiful women… the nobles had everything in abundance.
But with how resolute Masatsuki seemed, perhaps he really could resist those temptations.
...
After parting ways with Sōjun Kuchiki, Masatsuki headed toward his dormitory.
His sudden surge in Reiatsu today was too great—there was no time to train with Yui-sensei.
For now, he needed to focus on refining his control over his Reiatsu. And while he was at it, he could use Jinzen to converse with Banshō Senran.
Shin'ō Academy's dormitories were divided into three categories.
The first was the standard shared dormitory—six students per room for men, and four per room for women.
The second was a private single-room dormitory, typically reserved for students with exceptional aptitude, giving them a better environment for training. Masatsuki and his two closest peers were assigned to this type.
And the third…
Rather than a dormitory, it was more like a luxurious mansion—private courtyards, personal servants, a residence fit for nobility.
To live there, money alone wasn't enough. One also needed noble status.
As he entered the dormitory area, Masatsuki was surprised to find a teacher waiting for him.
Not only that, but his dormitory had been reassigned—
To the mansion district.
Some things never changed. No matter where you were, a genius was always given special treatment.