Chapter 223: That's Dead Strength, Not Useful
"Plague god?"
Hearing the shopkeeper's words, Satoru raised an eyebrow.
Although Kenpachi Zaraki was a bit dense, his character wasn't really problematic.
How could he be called a "plague god"?
While thinking this, he looked in the direction the voice came from.
In the distance, he saw a massive figure.
The height was nearly two meters and thirty centimeters.
Although not as tall as Komamura, his build was exceptionally burly and broad.
Satoru estimated this person's weight had to be five or six hundred jin.
Coupled with his full beard and rough, fleshy face, his intimidating presence surpassed even Komamura's.
Calling him a mountain of flesh wasn't an exaggeration.
The mountain of flesh's clothes were somewhat tattered, revealing a large patch of chest hair.
His body was covered in stains everywhere, as if one could smell the strange odor emanating from him even from dozens of meters away.
"Shinigami, what are you doing here!"
"Piss off, don't block my way to get food!"
The mountain of flesh shouted while walking over.
Hearing this, the Shinigami's expressions all changed.
Several squad members immediately stood up and walked over with dark faces.
"Hey! You, what did you just say?"
"Daring to speak to our 11th Division like that, tired of living?!"
"Stop right there!"
Facing several Shinigami carrying real swords, the mountain of flesh snorted with disdain.
He raised his large, fan-like hand and swung it violently.
The palm, carrying thick Reiatsu, whipped up a fierce gust of wind.
The several 11th Division Shinigami were first startled, then completely lost control as they were sent flying backward, crashing into their comrades behind them.
For a moment, the scene descended into chaos.
Several seated officers glanced at each other, then stood up together and walked over.
In the distance, Shinji landed on a large tree, quietly observing this scene.
Although quite far away, he could sense the mountain of flesh possessed very strong Reiatsu.
Probably not inferior to an average captain-level.
Was there such a monster in Rukongai?
Elsewhere, in a small alley, the figure of Retsu quietly appeared.
She concealed all her Reiatsu, silently watching the scene before her.
After confirming the person she was looking for wasn't present, she relaxed slightly.
In this short time, the mountain of flesh had already taken down several more Shinigami.
Including the 11th Division's 4th Seat and 5th Seat.
Without any flashy techniques, relying purely on brute force, he rendered these high-ranking seated officers, who trained daily, utterly helpless.
The feeling of being completely physically overwhelmed made the seated officers involuntarily show expressions of despair.
As for Satoru, he began to feel somewhat interested.
Although it wasn't Kenpachi Zaraki, this guy in front of him seemed like he could serve as a substitute.
This head-on, no-technique-just-brute-force fighting style was perfect for the roughnecks of the 11th Division, wasn't it?
In comparison, Shinigami like himself, who leaned more towards refined techniques, weren't really suited for the 11th Division.
Looking at the mountain of flesh not far away, he grinned and was about to say something.
But then, Satoru suddenly furrowed his brow.
Seeing the Shinigami collapsed before him, the mountain of flesh seemed somewhat unsatisfied.
He raised his size 50-plus foot and stomped harshly toward one of them.
At this action, many Shinigami showed expressions of shock and anger, ready to rush over and stop him.
But before the foot could land, the mountain of flesh's massive body was suddenly struck as if by an invisible giant hammer, flying backward with a loud crash!
BOOM!!!
Under the astonished gazes of the squad members, the mountain of flesh smashed violently into a section of the roadside wall.
Several of the struck Shinigami scrambled to their feet.
"Sorry, Big Brother Satoru!"
"We're deeply ashamed to have embarrassed you!"
Satoru shook his head.
As a law-abiding Shinigami, he wasn't some yakuza boss—why would he care so much about losing face?
From the billowing smoke, the mountain of flesh's massive form slowly emerged.
Though struck by Satoru's Reiatsu, he appeared unharmed.
Soon, his eyes locked onto the "culprit" from earlier.
"Hmm… You're the strongest among these people?"
Satoru nodded.
"Acting Captain of the Eleventh Division, Satoru Mikami."
Hearing this, the mountain of flesh paused briefly, then suddenly grinned.
"Eleventh Division! I know!"
"I heard that if you defeat the captain of the Eleventh Division, you can become a captain yourself. Is that true?"
"Naturally, it's true."
Satoru nodded. "But what you did earlier won't cut it."
"What I did earlier?" the mountain of flesh questioned.
Satoru gestured with his chin toward the other's foot. "Stomping on your comrades and endangering their lives—that's not acceptable."
Seeing that Satoru wasn't joking, the mountain of flesh couldn't help but laugh.
"You little brat, are you some kind of noble?"
"In a fight between warriors, who cares about such things?"
"Forget it, no more nonsense… Can I fight you now?"
Seeing the mountain of flesh's eagerness, Satoru nodded.
"You may."
The moment the words left his mouth, under his watchful gaze, the mountain of flesh stomped his massive foot hard against the ground.
Instantly, dirt erupted as if struck by a cannonball.
Using the immense force generated by the stomp, the mountain of flesh's 600-pound body shot forward at a speed barely visible to the naked eye!
"Big Brother!!"
"Big Brother Satoru!!"
Many Shinigami cried out in alarm.
But the next second, their astonishment deepened.
The mountain of flesh's enormous fist halted mid-air.
Blocking it was just a single finger extended by Satoru.
The mountain of flesh's fist, as large as Satoru's head, was effortlessly stopped by one finger!
A look of utter confusion spread across the mountain of flesh's face.
"The strength you're using is rigid and impractical."
"If you don't believe me, try using both hands to break this one finger. You won't be able to."
Satoru looked up, amused.
Hearing this, the mountain of flesh's expression shifted.
"Nonsense!"
He swiftly reached out, gripping Satoru's finger.
Then, with a sudden burst of force, he attempted to snap it.
But as he exerted himself, he realized something was wrong.
Just as Satoru had said, no matter how hard he tried, the finger wouldn't budge!
How could a single, slender finger be tougher than steel?!
He intended to exert more force and bend it a few more times, but a terrifying Reiatsu suddenly erupted from Satoru's finger.
Though it was merely a single finger, covered in Reiatsu, it felt more damaging than a burning iron rod.
The mountain of flesh gasped in shock, quickly released his grip, and retreated two steps.
At this moment, the way he looked at Satoru had completely changed.
"Damn it! A mere Shinigami... you've angered me!!"
As he spoke, he reached out with his large hand, rummaging inside his clothes.
A few seconds later, he somehow pulled out a sword.
A one-meter-long Asauchi, which would be normal in the hands of an ordinary Shinigami, looked like a child's plastic toy in his grasp.
More than its size, what drew attention were the various grimy substances staining the scabbard.
Satoru frowned slightly.
Although he had just grabbed a random scapegoat, letting such a guy take his position still felt somewhat unsettling...