"So then, Aizen-sama—what do you plan to do?"
Standing by the window, Higashi Shuuichi gazed into the distance.
The conversation from earlier with Aizen replayed in his mind.
Aizen had only smiled at that question.
No real answer—just a simple statement:
The time isn't ripe yet.
Of course.
Aizen had his hands full—between the Soul King's Palace and Yhwach, the Wandenreich's king.
Until those variables were resolved, there was no way Aizen had the bandwidth to seriously consider Hell.
Still, Shuuichi was sure:
If Aizen had come all this way just to have that talk, then some ideas must already be brewing.
Because some things don't need to be said out loud.
Like the fact that Shuuichi currently held in his hands—a passage to Hell.
If Aizen ever wanted direct access to study the Satomi Basara, the legendary artifact of the Dōma clan—then Sayako and Shuuichi's bond offered a far easier route than attempting to manipulate Shiba Kukaku.
"At the very least… I've thrown in with a boss who's ambitious, powerful, and knows exactly where he stands, right?"
Shuuichi gave a bitter smile.
Aizen's ambition was ballooning.
Even Shuuichi didn't know where he'd end up now.
If we followed the canon path, Aizen would likely crash and burn at the hands of the monk guarding the Soul King Palace.
Maybe beat up a weakened Yhwach on the side.
But Hell? That place was out of reach.
The laws there—entirely different.
Even ordinary Shinigami couldn't survive there, let alone scheme.
But with Aizen's potential…
A completed Hōgyoku…
And no inner demons left to cloud his mind…
Maybe.
Maybe he really could reach that step.
But Shuuichi couldn't afford to drift into that kind of future speculation.
He had to stay focused—on the now.
Because right now?
He had a problem.
When he returned his consciousness to the Quincy body of Tōno Takuya, a week had already passed.
Shuuichi had no interest in personally babysitting some human infiltration gig.
That's what this expendable puppet was for.
And only once he'd reviewed Takuya's diary—and confirmed he had successfully infiltrated the Rock Martin estate—did Shuuichi resume control.
As expected of a native Earl of London's Eighth Circle, Rock Martin's manor was lavish to the point of excess.
For a moment, Shuuichi wondered if he was walking through a town, not a noble estate.
"You're allowed to do this…
You're not allowed to do that…"
The butler beside him rattled off endless rules and codes of conduct.
Shuuichi let it wash over him—one ear in, the other out.
He wasn't here to serve.
He was here to confront.
He slowly pushed open the door to Rock Martin's private bedroom—explicitly listed as restricted.
Two guards lay unconscious at the threshold.
Inside, Rock Martin turned to face him.
"…I don't believe we've met," he said, halting his movements.
"Of course not. I'm newly hired by your butler, my lord. It's only natural you haven't seen me before,"
Shuuichi shrugged casually.
"A servant, huh? You sure don't act like one.
Or did you just decide not to learn the house rules?"
Rock Martin's eyes narrowed.
"I'm very clear about one thing:
Never enter this room while I'm home."
He called for help.
But half an hour passed—no one came.
The silence stretched.
Of course they didn't.
Shuuichi had already activated the spiritual pressure suppression field he once left with Kisaragi Shūsuke and the others.
With his current Quincy-level control over reishi, it was easy to isolate this room in its own pocket of space.
"What did you do?"
Martin's brow creased.
"Nothing serious.
Just wanted to have a conversation—face to face.
With your real self~"
Shuuichi smiled.
Unlike Shūsuke, who'd walked blind into the trap, Shuuichi had ordered Takuya to investigate Martin's background thoroughly.
And what he found?
This Count Rock Martin hadn't changed at all—for a very long time.
Not his face.
Not his aging.
A normal human couldn't pull that off.
Not even a Quincy.
Only Shinigami…
Or those self-proclaimed 'magicians' of the West Bureau could manage such things.
And given the context—Shuuichi leaned heavily toward the latter.
He had already written his script for today.
But what he didn't expect—
Was for Martin to laugh.
Loudly.
Brazenly.
Not only did he admit it—
He even brought out something both surprising and utterly expected.
"Ohhh?
So a few days ago, when those Shinigami fled London eastward—
That was your doing too, wasn't it?"
Martin's grin widened.
"So I can take that to mean, Count… that you had your eyes on those Shinigami for a while?"
"Does it matter if I did?
Or if I didn't?" Martin said coolly.
"This isn't your East Bureau.
Here, anything I want—is mine."
Arrogant.
That was Shuuichi's first label for the man.
But then—he saw it.
This arrogance wasn't baseless.
Because this Count Rock Martin once had another name—
Back in Soul Society's East Bureau.
They called him Captain Miyazaki.
"…But you, you're not a Shinigami, are you?"
Miyazaki Sakayama folded one hand behind his back, his smile dripping with confidence.
"This body? No.
I'm not a Shinigami anymore.
In fact—
I'm a Quincy~"
Shuuichi declared.
No shock.
No surprise.
Everything was still on track.
What followed was…
A boring exchange of scripted lines.
Shuuichi stated his intent to join Miyazaki's cause.
Miyazaki, of course, didn't take him seriously.
Can you blame him?
At this point in time, the Quincies were a joke.
Weaklings who struggled even against ordinary Menos-class Hollows.
Now one of them had shown up talking big?
A punchline.
The only real mystery was how this Quincy—Shuuichi—knew anything at all.
But Miyazaki had given away plenty of real crumbs to bait Kisaragi Shūsuke.
If Shuuichi happened to pick up on a few, his suspicion was justified.
And now?
With Shūsuke having escaped to the East Bureau—
The net was empty.
But that didn't bother Miyazaki.
"Did you think hiding in the East Bureau makes you safe?"
He chuckled.
"Once I set my eyes on prey—they never escape."
Still, no effort to chase them.
Why bother?
Soon, he would return to Soul Society himself.
When he did, Shūsuke would come crawling back, begging forgiveness.
"You say you're interested in that Shinigami who visited me.
You want to know where he went?
Too bad.
Answering a Quincy's questions doesn't really appeal to me."
Miyazaki smiled darkly.
There was nothing he valued more than entertainment.
First it was Shūsuke.
Now it was Shuuichi.
He'd dragged out a three-year performance with the first one—
He could do it again.
He needed a new toy.
And this arrogant little Quincy?
Seemed perfect.
Shuuichi knew.
This encounter would be dangerous.
But he had no choice.
Now that Shūsuke had withdrawn—Martin's forces in the World of the Living were pulling back too.
The "Earl" identity would be discarded soon.
If he didn't act now, it would be impossible to find Miyazaki again.
This was the best shot.
"Simple.
There's no problem a good beating can't solve.
If you won't answer—fine.
But I hope you can still act cocky three minutes from now~"
Shuuichi smiled, raised his fingers—
A glowing Heilig Pfeil materialized.
"Tremble before my bow!"
He loosed the arrow straight for Miyazaki's brow.
"…Hah.
Ahahahahahaha!!"
Miyazaki laughed.
This Quincy was hilarious.
Weak, yet so confident.
Ah…
Was it because Shūsuke had been so restrained?
Afraid to reveal himself?
Running away each time?
Had he inadvertently given this fool a false sense of power?
That must be it.
So then—what now?
Miyazaki looked at Shuuichi's smug face…
And smiled like a lunatic.
"Oh, of course. I'll play along.
Let him think he's conquered me…
Then when the time is right, I'll show him my true strength—
And watch his face twist in horror!"
He could already imagine it.
Every cell in his body tingled with joy.
Without Shūsuke around, this Quincy would be the perfect appetizer before Miyazaki's return to Soul Society.
And from Shuuichi's perspective?
He saw Miyazaki—so smug a moment ago—suddenly stagger back, overacting as he clutched his wound and fell.
"Ah! So much pain! Damn it—how are you this strong?!
You—who the hell are you?!
No normal Quincy could be this powerful!!"
...
Shuuichi twitched.
What the hell was this?
Was Miyazaki mocking him?
Or was this really the limit of his acting?
"Alright, alright.
You wanted info on that Shinigami, right?
I'll tell you.
But I hate him.
If you want answers, take me with you.
I want to see him die with my own eyes."
Shuuichi hadn't said a word.
But Miyazaki was already answering himself.
Definitely a bad actor.
But the worst part?
He'd fooled Shūsuke and Rangiku with this for three whole years.
Shuuichi seriously considered having a talk with Shūsuke soon.
A man's eyes shouldn't be that blind.
"Ahahaha! Now you see how amazing I am!
Fine—your terms are acceptable!"
Outwardly, Shuuichi laughed along.
Even if this had gone completely off script.
Originally, the plan was:
Young, arrogant Quincy Shuuichi attacks.
Miyazaki easily dominates.
Shuuichi acts awed.
He was even ready to take a dive from a second holy arrow.
But somehow…
Miyazaki had become his lackey instead.
Shuuichi could only conclude one thing:
You should never try to predict how a madman thinks.