"Damn it."
Although the Quincy leader had found a way to handle the Mini Kojiba, his squad's close-quarters fighting was too weak — they simply couldn't overpower Kojiba's clones.
"Take out the king first!"
Knowing the logic of cutting off the head of the snake, the Quincy leader vanished into his ranks and reappeared in front of Yūshirō in an instant.
"One more move and I'll kill you."
But barely had he reached Yūshirō when Hōshō Aya slammed him into the ground.
"How…?" The big Quincy — roughly 1.85 m tall and built like a wall of muscle — lay pinned beneath Hōshō Aya, who was barely 1.5 m and looked so frail her limbs could be snapped. Confusion filled his eyes.
"Foolish," Aya said, pressing his head flat and twisting his arms behind his back with a disdainful look. "Judging a Shinigami's strength from height and build… how ignorant and ridiculous. Let me enlighten you: a Shinigami's power has nothing to do with body size. It depends on the strength of the spirit body. The higher the spirit-body level, the greater the force it can channel. If you refine your spirit to the highest level, even a bare fist can crush a Grand Hollow. (For example: the Mountain Elder.)"
"Damn… Shinigami," the Quincy leader shouted, and the surface of his body glinted as he activated his power.
"Hm?" Aya felt the Quincy's strength spike suddenly — far beyond his normal level.
"What ability is this?" she wondered. She'd never heard of Quincies having power like this. Her intel said Quincies were long-range fighters who would be killed instantly if a Shinigami closed in.
"This is Blutrüstung — a blood armament only pureblood Quincy can use, you ignorant Shinigami!" the Quincy barked as he rose, trying to throw Aya off his back.
But the next second Aya's spiritual pressure exploded outward. She pressed him down again.
"Who called whom ignorant?" Aya's lip twitched. She hated being labeled a country bumpkin, an uncultured noble, or any insult suggesting she was naive.
The pureblood Quincy lay sweating on the ground, shaken — he'd used Blut and still couldn't budge Aya. Are all Shinigami monsters? he thought, terrified.
"Yūshirō-dono, what do you make of this?" Szayelaporro asked, looking at the pureblood Quincy Aya had easily subdued.
"If all pureblood Quincy are this stupid, their extinction can't be far off," Yūshirō replied. He looked at the pureblood's intelligence and felt a pang of pity for the offspring of the Spirit King. Not that Aya was dumb — she was simply adorable, and that was more than enough.
"Hmph — idiot!" Aya smirked, clearly satisfied.
"Hey, kid — what's your name?" Yūshirō crouched and asked the pureblood pinned beneath Aya.
"I never change my name: I am Kurosaki Shin'ichi!" the Quincy announced without shame.
"Kurosaki…? Did you kill the Tenth Division's captain?" Yūshirō nodded slightly and asked the question he already suspected.
"Of course. I slew your captain!" The gold-haired Quincy grinned arrogantly.
"Xas — what do you think?" Yūshirō asked Szayelaporro.
"He's lying," Szayelaporro said without hesitation, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"Why?"
Yūshirō nodded and gave two words: "Simple logic."
"If a Division Captain could be killed by a moron like this, then he wasn't fit to be a captain. And given we ran into a Kōtotsu the instant we entered the Dangai, the circumstances around the Tenth Division captain's death are far from ordinary." Szayelaporro explained.
"Exactly what I thought. Someone is doing everything they can to block our probe into that captain's death — or to hide something. By that logic, the first people we meet aren't the ones responsible for the true cause." Yūshirō agreed.
"What do you mean?" the pinned Kurosaki asked, his eyes as baffled as Aya's earlier expression.
"Simple: kid, you were used as a pawn," Yūshirō replied with a faint smile. By now Yūshirō's Kojibas had flattened the rest of the Quincy; each of them lay bruised and battered on the ground. Why were their faces so badly bloodied? Because Yūshirō liked to hit people in the face.
"I was used as a pawn…" Kurosaki echoed, perplexed.
"Why haven't the Quincy been exterminated yet?" Yūshirō looked up at the tiny world's sky, helpless.
"Kill me if you like — just spare my men! They're innocent!" the pureblood pleaded.
"Are you an idiot? Even if I spare them, you'd still be at my mercy." Yūshirō replied incredulously.
"Uh…" Kurosaki froze — the logic was undeniable.
"Enough talk. I don't care about you small fries. Hand over the one who killed the Tenth Division captain (not important) and the person who badly wounded Aizen — Fifth Division's vice-captain (very important) — and I'll let you go. Understand?"
"This is ridiculous. You think I'll betray my own people? The Quincy who slew your captain are already dead. You would desecrate the dead if you ask for that!" Kurosaki shouted.
"Foolish. You really believe that a single captain and a vice-captain fell to a bunch of low-rankers? Ridiculous." Yūshirō smiled.
"Kuh?!" Only then did Kurosaki seem to snap out of it.
"If you don't want your men to die here, then answer me until I find the person I want," Yūshirō said, signaling Aya to release him. He hauled Kurosaki to his feet.
"What are you going to do?" Kurosaki asked, fear creeping into his voice.
"Nothing much. I have a few questions. You'd better answer honestly — otherwise your men will be saying goodbye." Yūshirō's gaze bored into him.
Kurowaki's thoughts raced. Could he trust this Shinigami? He didn't know — but something in him stirred a strange trust. Perhaps it was the blade at Harribel's waist, pressed to a comrade's throat, that convinced him.
"So I see there's no way back, huh?" he muttered.
"No — you have a choice. But if you choose poorly, I will kill everyone around you. If that doesn't bother you, fine. But your men will suffer." Yūshirō shook his head.
"Ask your questions." Kurosaki, gold hair bristling, spoke like a man.
"Who sent you, Kurosaki?" Yūshirō asked.
"No one. I came on my own," Kurosaki answered.
"Hm." Yūshirō smiled and nodded to Harribel.
"Say it again," Harribel warned, raising her blade toward a Quincy's head.
"Wait!" Kurosaki changed tone at the sight of the blade. "It was Elder Watanabe who sent me."
"Stop." Yūshirō relaxed and Harribel lowered her sword.
"Next question: where is Elder Watanabe?"
"You think I'll tell you? …He's in a small Reishi Realm not far from here. I can take you there — if you spare my men." Kurosaki, finally breaking, handed over his teammates' location.
"There — that was easy." Yūshirō smiled. "Kojiba — return!" He called his Kojibas back and re-sheathed them.
"You… you really will let us go?" Kurosaki trembled, barely believing it.
"Of course. I told you: I'm here for certain people. This isn't about your Quincy clan. Your quarrels with some Shinigami are your business." Yūshirō rubbed Kurosaki's head with Kojiba's scabbard.
Kurosaki felt inexplicably humiliated — perhaps the world was a Möbius strip: today a noble Shinigami spared a Kurosaki; tomorrow a Kurosaki might save some noble's life.
Back in Soul Society:
"Lord Aizen, the Quincy squad that ambushed Yūshirō's team has been wiped out. Their captain was captured. Will this affect our plan?" the messenger reported shortly after Kurosaki's capture.
"It's fine. Everything is going according to my plan," Aizen said with a faint smile. He lay propped in the hospital bed, calm as ever — even this capture had been anticipated.
"If everything is part of your plan, then we have no worries," Ōtsuena said and nodded.
"Heh heh heh…" Aizen smiled thinly. "Yūshirō will go find that 'elder' next."
Kurosaki, watching Yūshirō actually release his men, felt uneasy. "You really let them go? Aren't you worried they'll come after you?" he asked.
"Perfect," Kurosaki replied. "I am bored. Shinigami live for millennia — I could toy with you Quincy over dozens or hundreds of generations. I'll defeat you again and again, spare you, then defeat you again, leaving a little hope only to crush it each time."
Yūshirō wasn't bothered. He was almost looking forward to it.
"You're twisted," Kurosaki muttered.
"Different heights bring different perspectives," Yūshirō said. "Supreme strength gives me a supreme attitude. That is a boundary between us: the one who masters power holds the reins; the rest are mere mounts, driven by instinct and used to flaunt themselves. Everything lies in a single thought of mine. Because I am stronger than anyone, I possess absolute privilege. I do as I please. Whether I spare you or slay you is up to my mood. Today, your pathetic performance amused me — so I let you go. It's as simple as deciding to crush or admire a roadside weed."