Makoto spoke, and the desert fell silent.
Every Hollow present turned their gaze to the figure at the forefront of the Shinigami, their malice unmasked.
The young Shinigami behind Makoto felt the searing intensity of reiatsu, like flames licking at their skin. Some, less seasoned, succumbed to a creeping sense of helplessness.
The combined reiatsu of multiple Vasto Lordes rivaled that of a Captains' meeting.
When had common Shinigami ever faced such a scene?
Yet Makoto stood unfazed, his demeanor as breezy as a spring day.
Szayelaporro's projection fixed on him.
Though the hologram held only a sliver of sentience, a twisted rage from the depths of his soul contorted his face, his mouth nearly splitting to his ears.
"Chōjirō… keke! Chōjirō Sasakibe!!!"
A grating gnash of teeth mingled with manic laughter, forming a wail-like cacophony, shrill and piercing.
Gone was Szayelaporro's earlier composure, replaced by a frenzied roar, as if yearning to tear this man apart. "You alone, you alone I'll rip to shreds! I'll trap your brain in a nutrient tank for endless experiments!"
"You dared reduce me to this!"
His voice neared madness. "You'll pay for this!"
The killing intent in his words sent a chill even through Baraggan, who'd never taken his former subordinate seriously.
He turned to Makoto.
What had this man done to that lunatic Szayelaporro?
Baraggan knew the mad scientist well.
What kind of humiliation could break him like this?
Before he could ponder further, a sweet, almost childish voice rang out, its tone teasingly drawn out, as if a kid were saying something outrageous.
[Eh~?]
[What's this about 'reduced to this'?]
[Oh, right! I remember your body was chopped to bits back then, wasn't it?]
[The only part that escaped was, like… a single…]
[Thingy?]
The voice's words sparked a collective bewilderment among the Hollows and Shinigami.
It was Japanese, yet somehow incomprehensible.
A sudden illiteracy.
Makoto, catching the odd looks around him, clamped his mouth shut.
He'd long forgotten that incident.
How did his Zanpakutō still remember?!
"Stop it!"
Szayelaporro's wail spiked an octave, his eyes bulging like lightbulbs.
But the Zanpakutō pressed on.
[No way, no way!]
[Three hundred years, and you still haven't regrown anything but that thingy?]
[What's your body look like now?]
[No way!]
[Is your body just a single piece grafted onto another Hollow's body?!]
All eyes, Hollow and Shinigami alike, shifted to the hologram's lanky, flamboyant pink-haired figure, complete with his orchid-finger pose.
Their gazes carried a probing, almost judgmental weight.
No way.
You're not actually like that, are you?
Under the lethal scrutiny, Szayelaporro's projection seemed to ignite, vanishing with a parting threat: "Chōjirō! I won't let you go!"
Though the fleeing image said nothing more, it somehow said everything.
All eyes turned back to Makoto, silent and appraising.
In that moment, among the younger Shinigami, Makoto's old, infamous nicknames gained a tangible weight.
Who would've thought?
So this is Captain Makoto!
As expected.
The world only has misnamed names, never misnamed nicknames!
"What are you staring at?"
Three centuries of enduring his Zanpakutō's nonsense had armored Makoto's thick skin. Hands on hips, he declared righteously, "Don't conflate a Zanpakutō with its Shinigami, you idiots!"
The Shinigami quickly averted their eyes.
As their superior, Makoto's words carried weight.
But the Vasto Lordes opposite sneered with greater disdain.
Using authority to silence them? Pathetic!
Harribel, a Vasto Lorde standing by Makoto, lowered her head silently, mentally chanting, This level of sacrifice is necessary! This level of sacrifice is necessary!, desperately dodging the other Vasto Lordes' pointed stares.
As the exchange teetered toward a deadlock, Baraggan, representing the Hollows, stepped forward, voice accusatory.
"Damn brat!"
"Your interruption cost us any chance to dig into that bastard Szayelaporro's plans!"
"Looks like we'll need to clear out you unstable elements before pinning that lunatic down."
His black axe of decay emerged from his tattered sleeve.
Despite a recent battle, his skeletal eyes showed no fear, though, lacking eyeballs, they couldn't.
He wasn't alone in this sentiment.
From the moment Makoto appeared, the Vasto Lordes had eyed this group of "precious spiritual sources" with keen interest.
Though Vasto Lordes no longer needed to consume others to evolve, like humans starving for too long, they instinctively craved anything that moved.
From the start, they had no intention of letting this feast slip away.
Yet, facing their subtle encirclement, Makoto seemed oblivious, spreading his arms toward the Vasto Lordes with polite warmth.
"What a bunch of stubborn, stone-headed fools."
"Your heads are already on someone else's chopping block, yet you're still ready to fight for these petty scraps?"
"I knew Hollows, brawling like beasts in a pit for years, would be dim, but to devolve into bloodthirsty animals, abandoning all reason, really?"
Three polite sentences ignited the Vasto Lordes' fury, their killing intent surging toward the Shinigami.
But his next words halted their rising reiatsus.
"Those giant test subjects Szayelaporro sent out like trash, the ones you lackeys took down… they had the potential to evolve like Adjuchas."
"…"
Most Vasto Lordes present, as Makoto predicted, hadn't witnessed the Frankenstein's second-stage transformation due to the absence of other Hollow groups.
But the silence lasted only a moment before Baraggan's scornful voice shattered it.
"So what?"
The decayed skeleton's tone was resolute, brimming with bravado despite its aged timbre. "Even if that thing devoured a dozen Adjuchas, it's only this level."
"A bit of effort, at most."
"Is that so?"
Makoto's voice dripped with skepticism. "What if it consumed a Vasto Lorde?"
"?!"
Many stiffened at his words, their expressions darkening, some had anticipated this, others had feared the worst.
Those slower on the uptake remained clueless.
Seeing their confusion, Makoto pressed on. "Haven't you noticed some of Hueco Mundo's dominant figures are missing?"
"Even an untransformed Frankenstein boasts terrifying combat strength."
"Where did those absent ones go?"
At this, even the least cerebral Vasto Lordes grasped his meaning.
Those who'd failed had become Szayelaporro's "weapons."
This was the madman's confidence to reveal himself and his plans so brazenly.
Makoto's smile turned mocking. "You lot…"
"You're on the brink of death, yet you feel no urgency."
The sharper Vasto Lordes began to catch his drift.
A blonde girl, her face half-covered by a bovine bone mask, twirled her gun irritably and shouted, "Enough blabbering!"
"Spit it out already!"
Makoto's cold, lofty demeanor shifted instantly to a sly, almost sleazy grin, one that screamed, My upbringing forbids this expression.
"What I mean is… instead of letting some random lunatic crush you to death…"
"Why not lean on the Soul Society's might?"
"???"
Bewilderment rippled through the Vasto Lordes.
But their eyes soon fell on Harribel, standing beside Makoto like a prized exhibit on a runway.
Clarity dawned.
The Special Hollow Division!
Word of it had spread across Hueco Mundo.
As ancient rivals, locked in a love-hate dance for eons, the slightest stir among Shinigami drew relentless scrutiny from these apex predators.
Yet, on this matter, even Harribel, arguably the most esteemed Vasto Lorde, faced merciless ridicule from her kin.
A Hollow serving as a Shinigami's lapdog?
This wasn't just the view of lesser Hollows but the unyielding will of Baraggan, self-proclaimed king of Hueco Mundo.
He raised his axe, his skeletal maw opening to speak.
But then,
Lilynette Gingerbuck raised her gun, unleashing a torrent of deep blue energy. An astonishing force erupted from the petite girl's barrel.
Dust surged, winds howled.
In an instant, a massive trench carved the ground between them.
Boom!!
The deafening blast set bodies trembling.
Yet Makoto, at the explosion's heart, stood unfazed, his carefree smile illuminated by the firelight. Shifting shadows cast a deep crimson halo around him in the red haze.
He maintained his outstretched pose.
Smoke curled from his left hand, his palm bearing only faint charred embers.
"This guy…"
Even Lilynette let out a whistle, astonished.
That was a full-powered Cero Oscuras.
In that moment, she felt a flicker of temptation.
Lapdog or not?
Since becoming a Vasto Lorde, most companions in her endless life had been crushed by her mere presence, their spiritual bodies ground to nothing.
But with him…
Maybe he could stay by her side forever?
The thought sparked unbidden.
Yet her gaze drifted to the ordinary Shinigami around Makoto.
She sighed deeply.
Makoto, seemingly oblivious to her fleeting fancy, waved casually, flicking the last ash from his palm.
"See? Protection like this."
"Pfft!" Lilynette scoffed. "I don't need anyone's protection!"
With that, the tiny girl turned and left without a backward glance.
Only as she crossed the horizon, her form fading from sight, did she pause. Like any young girl, she bit her lip, a mix of envy and jealousy.
"Damn it!"
…
Lilynette's small figure soon vanished from Makoto's view.
He made no move to stop her.
The Three Worlds had their own rhythms. Slaughtering every Hollow, as Yamamoto had done three centuries ago, only destabilized the spiritual framework, causing untold damage with each purge.
Lilynette's departure seemed to press a start button.
One by one, Vasto Lordes, either too proud or unwilling to serve, left.
They knew the dangers ahead but saw them as future problems.
Makoto, however, was right here, now.
Even Baraggan, after a few harsh words, vanished with a whoosh, likely chasing Lilynette's path.
Clearly, the childlike Vasto Lorde's sudden burst of reiatsu, surpassing even his own, was unacceptable to the self-styled king.
He had to get answers.
…
In the end, only one figure remained.
Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck stood tall, lance in hand, facing Makoto with a grave expression, her voice resolute and ringing.
"Makoto Fujimiya!"
"I have questions for you."
***
Bonus Chapter:
100 Power Stones = 1 BC
300 Power Stones = 2 BC
500 Power Stones = 3 BC
700 Power Stones = 4 BC
1000 Power Stones = 5 BC
***
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