Chapter 220: I Am a Super Chef... Trainer!
Outside the Eleventh Division gates.
Several Fourth Division members approached cautiously, carrying medical kits.
From a distance, they could see two Shinigami supposedly guarding the entrance.
Though called guards, they were actually lazily sitting on the ground, leaning against the gate.
One Shinigami had one leg raised while the other stretched straight forward, chewing on a blade of grass with his sword casually held in his arms.
His clothes were somewhat disheveled and dirty, but he didn't seem to mind at all.
His feet, clad in straw sandals, weren't wrapped in any foot coverings, leaving his mud-stained skin directly exposed to the air.
The Shinigami dug at his ear, looking completely idle.
Suddenly, a timid voice spoke up—
"H-Hello, we were sent by the Fourth Division... We received word earlier that there are injured members in the Eleventh Division, so we..."
"Hah?!"
Before the speaker could finish, another gatekeeping Shinigami suddenly looked up and interrupted with a frown.
"Sent by the Fourth Division? What seat are you?"
The Fourth Division Shinigami was taken aback: "I'm the Ninth Seat, and I'm leading this mission. May I ask..."
"What?! Just a Ninth Seat?!"
The Eleventh Division Shinigami roared, springing to his feet.
He was tall, immediately looming over the Fourth Division members with an imposing stance.
"Our squad members got injured patrolling Rukongai and fighting Hollows!"
"You lot hiding safely behind the lines, enjoying the peace we bought with our blood, and now you only send a Ninth Seat to treat our people?"
"You bastards, are you looking down on us? Hah?"
Under this nearly unreasonable shouting, the Fourth Division Shinigami nearly broke into tears.
They huddled together, trembling while repeatedly apologizing.
But the Ninth Seat furrowed his brow.
He stepped forward:
"Gentlemen, although I'm only the Ninth Seat... I absolutely don't mean any disrespect toward your contributions."
"In fact, aside from the Captain and Lieutenant, I'm the most skilled in treating external injuries!"
"Please rest assured and leave it to me!"
Watching the Ninth Seat who remained neither servile nor overbearing, the two gatekeeping Eleventh Division Shinigami exchanged glances.
This was the one!
What they wanted from the beginning wasn't respect at all.
Even if the other side had sent the Fourth Seat or Third Seat, they would have found reasons to pick a fight anyway.
What they wanted to do was express their dissatisfaction to the higher-ups!
Many of these Eleventh Division veterans had served under Kenpachi Kuruyashiki.
That Kenpachi was a true beast, a worthy figure of respect.
Unfortunately, Kenpachi Kuruyashiki died at the hands of Kenpachi Kurotsuchi.
Though dissatisfied, since Kenpachi Kurotsuchi was also a strong fighter, they gradually accepted their new captain.
Who would have thought that not long after, Kenpachi Kurotsuchi would be imprisoned in Muken for defying Central 46's orders.
His successor was Gosuke.
Regarding Gosuke, many squad members already felt discontent.
Although he inherited the Kenpachi title, Gosuke's actual strength couldn't truly match the "Kenpachi" name.
Still, out of respect for his previous service as Captain Kuruyashiki's attendant, everyone tolerated and accepted him.
Until former Tenth Division captain, Chōjirō Sasakibe was transferred to lead the Eleventh Division—that's when they finally reached their breaking point.
The captain of the Eleventh Division wasn't even a "Kenpachi"!
To the Eleventh Division, this was utterly humiliating.
Though constrained by rank from mounting effective resistance, they consistently performed their duties with minimal effort.
Captain Sasakibe's early resignation was partly due to his old injuries, but also connected to this situation.
The mohawk-haired Eleventh Division Shinigami suddenly raised his Zanpakutō, thrusting the sheath toward the Fourth Division Shinigami before him.
The latter never expected the other would actually attack him, his eyes widening in shock.
Smack!
A foot suddenly extended from the side, blocking between the scabbard and the Fourth Division Shinigami.
The scabbard thrust forcefully by the Eleventh Division Shinigami struck squarely against the top of his extended foot, yet it didn't cause him to waver in the slightest.
"Who are you?!"
Another Eleventh Division Shinigami exclaimed in shock.
But before the words fully left his mouth, he saw the sole of a straw sandal coming straight for his face.
BAM!!!
In the Eleventh Division courtyard, a figure crashed through the main gate, trailing a cloud of dust as it tumbled inside, finally slamming hard into one of the rooms!
Several members who had been training with wooden swords all showed expressions of surprise.
Before they could even ask what was happening, a loud shout came from outside:
"Someone's challenging the dojo! Challenging the dojo!"
"Who's the strongest fighter in the Eleventh Division?!"
"Never mind, everyone come at me together!"
Hearing this, all the Eleventh Division members present in the barracks became enraged.
What kind of joke was this?!
How dare someone come to the Eleventh Division to pick a fight?
Although they were currently the only division without a captain, their reputation as the combat division wasn't for nothing.
Whoever this was today, they would make sure he learned his lesson with blood!
Outside the main gate, several Fourth Division members stared dumbfounded at the scene before them.
This young man who had suddenly appeared had inexplicably helped them avoid trouble, and before they could even thank him, he suddenly started provoking the entire Eleventh Division!
Had he grown tired of living?!
The Ninth Seat hurriedly said: "This comrade, you'd better run! The Eleventh Division has been chaotic recently, their captain is now..."
Before he could finish speaking, they saw a large group of muscular men already beginning to charge out through the main gate.
"Who's challenging the dojo?!"
"Taste my wooden sword!"
"Madman, take this blade!"
Under the astonished gaze of the Fourth Division's Ninth Seat, Satoru chuckled lightly and stepped forward.
Seeing his face, many of the Eleventh Division Shinigami showed expressions of confusion.
He looked somewhat familiar... who was this?
However, before they could react, Satoru had already charged into the crowd.
In an instant, the sounds of bodies colliding echoed continuously.
At the entrance of the Eleventh Division, it was as if a pot had boiled over—one Shinigami after another was sent flying high into the air before crashing to the ground.
The newly arrived Shinigami only knew that their enemy was somewhere in the crowd and rushed in with battle cries.
Then, they too were sent flying and scattered in all directions.
In the blink of an eye, Satoru alone had blocked the entrance of the Eleventh Division, fighting for over two hours.
Five small mountains of "corpses" had already piled up near the entrance.
Screams and groans intertwined into a continuous chorus.
As the numbers thinned, some finally got a clear look at his face.
"You... you are!!"
A Shinigami widened his eyes in shock, pointing a trembling finger at him.
Satoru dashed over, delivered a knee strike, and sent him crashing to the ground.
Then, he suddenly raised his arm and nodded toward the Ninth Seat of the Fourth Division, who had been watching from a distance all along.
Only then did the latter notice that Satoru had been wearing a towel wrapped around his arm.
He instinctively ran over and, after confirming he hadn't misunderstood, reached out to help Satoru remove the towel.
The next moment, he gasped sharply and quickly averted his gaze.
Beneath the towel, Satoru's arm gleamed with a golden light.
A large character for "Special" was emblazoned on his sleeve.
"I am the Special-Class Trainer, Satoru!"
"Starting today, I'll be in charge of training you fools."
"To become Pokémon Masters, you'd better be prepared to risk your lives!!"
Amid the crowd, Satoru grinned, revealing a pure smile.