Puff
A sharp sound suddenly echoed through the hall—the unmistakable noise of steel piercing flesh.
Ran Yan slowly lowered his right hand.
Behind him, the golden Reiatsu dragon that had slammed into the wall dispersed into mist.
And in its place...
A truly shocking sight appeared.
There, pinned against the wall of the Mao Kendo Gym like a macabre painting, was the Fifth Division Captain—
Hirako Shinji.
A Zanpakutō had pierced clean through his right shoulder and embedded itself deep into the wall, nailing him there like a rag doll.
From afar, it looked like a scroll painting—grim, silent, motionless.
But the story that painting told was far more terrifying than any art ever hung in Seireitei.
Everyone—nobles, commoners, first-years, and prodigies alike—stood frozen, mouths agape, eyes blank with shock.
Tick—tock.
It wasn't until the quiet drip of blood echoed to the ground that they seemed to awaken from their stunned trance.
"That… that's a Captain of the Gotei 13!"
"Ran Yan pinned him to the wall… with just three strikes!"
"Am I hallucinating? Did I gain some strange power?"
"Is Ran Yan too strong, or is the Captain… just weak?"
One by one, gasps filled the gym.
The sheer disbelief reverberated through the crowd.
"Ran Yan…"
"He's only been enrolled for a few days, right?"
"How on earth did he reach such a monstrous level of swordsmanship?"
Even Hirako Shinji was stunned.
He had met countless master swordsmen across his centuries of service.
The strongest Shinigami of the millennium—Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni.
The blood-stained villain turned protector—Unohana Retsu.
But never… had he encountered someone like Ran Yan.
Yamamoto and Unohana had reached their heights after thousands of years, through war, suffering, and rivers of blood.
Ran Yan?A brand-new student.And yet, not only had he surpassed Aizen—he had outright humiliated Hirako with a mere three attacks.
Worse yet—
Hirako knew the truth.
Ran Yan hadn't even aimed for his vital points.
If he had, the result would have been far more brutal.
And now, Hirako remembered what Aizen had said earlier:
"Brother, be careful not to beat Shinji-sensei to death."
He'd scoffed at it then.
Now… it chilled him to the bone.
That wasn't a joke.That had been a warning.
[Your Kendo witnessed your feat—nailing a Captain to the wall with your Hundred-Step Flying Sword—and was overjoyed! As a reward, it has granted you the long-awaited technique: "Sword Dao: Eight Swords Flying Together".]
Ran Yan heard the system's voice echo beside his ear.
His expression barely changed—but inside, he was elated.
Of course.
His system loved performance. The flashier, the more dramatic, the better.
The more powerful the opponent, the bigger the reward.
Take down a Gotei 13 Captain?
That's practically a festival.
The system practically shoved "Eight Swords Flying Together" into his face out of excitement.
And if he just quietly trained? If he avoided using Reiatsu, Zanpakutō, or spiritual techniques?
Then his cultivation would trickle forward like cold molasses.
Pata!
A sudden thud rang out.
Shiba Isshin appeared in the middle of the shattered Kendo hall, looking around in alarm.
"Shinji, you bastard!"
"You let your vice-captain trick me!"
"If something had happened to Brother Ran Yan, I'd have drawn my Zanpakutō and chopped you up myself!"
Shiba cursed inwardly, scanning the room.
Seeing Ran Yan and Aizen unharmed, still standing tall, he finally exhaled in relief.
Then, his eyes shifted—and froze.
He stared at the wall.
At Hirako Shinji.
At the blood. At the Zanpakutō.
At the absurd, grotesque display.
His expression mirrored what Shihouin Yoruichi, Urahara Kisuke, and the rest had looked like just moments ago.
"...Ah."
"Shinji… what the hell are you doing?"
"Why… why did you nail yourself to the wall?!"
Isshin was so stunned he barely realized he was speaking aloud.
"Oh, right!" Ran Yan answered casually, as if recalling something unimportant.
"Mr. Shinji volunteered to substitute for your class, and invited me to help him in a real battle."
"To better demonstrate the essence of kendo to the students."
Ran Yan waved his hand slightly, and the Zanpakutō lodged in Shinji's shoulder flew back to him like a summoned spirit.
"That's… about it."
"If there's nothing else, I'll be going."
"Captain Isshin, your body's recovered, so I'm no longer needed as a substitute teacher."
Shinji didn't argue.
He knew he'd crossed a line.
He was ashamed—not only of being defeated so thoroughly, but for trying to act behind Isshin's back… and failing spectacularly.
He turned to leave, holding his bleeding shoulder.
But as he stepped forward—
"Wait."
Shiba Isshin stepped into his path.
His voice was flat, his tone filled with weight.
"I'm not reporting this to Captain-Commander Yamamoto this time."
"But don't test me again."
"If you try using any more 'accidental' methods to harm my students…"
"Then I'll stop treating you like a colleague."
The air turned cold.
Isshin meant every word.
The truth was clear.
Earlier, on his way to class, Sarugaki Hiyori had rushed up in a panic, claiming the Fifth Division had been attacked and needed backup.
As a fellow Captain, Isshin didn't hesitate. He changed course to help.
Now, looking back… it was a lie.
A ploy to lure him away.
He had been played.
By Hirako Shinji.
"Thanks for your generosity, Captain Isshin," Shinji muttered, voice low.
But his eyes were clouded.
He didn't resent Isshin—if anything, he respected him.
He was just troubled.
The way Isshin had defended Ran Yan...
Just one lesson—and Isshin was willing to shield him from a fellow Captain?
That said everything.
Ran Yan wasn't just strong.
He was respected, feared, and already winning the loyalty of Gotei captains.
And that… was dangerous.
Because popularity like that?
Could shake the foundation of the Soul Society itself.