Chapter 226: Win and Come With Me
"Spread out and search! Quickly!"
"Not just the villages—search the uninhabited mountains too!"
"Go ask around about any skilled shinigami in this area!"
On a desolate stretch of land, the seated officers of the Eleventh Division barked orders.
The squad members quickly dispersed to search for the person Satoru was looking for.
Satoru had given them very little information—only three clues:
From Zaraki District, exceptionally strong in fights, and possibly accompanied by a young girl.
Although the conditions were vague, with not even a name provided, no one found it strange.
Rukongai was divided into four districts—east, south, west, and north—each numbered from one to eighty.
Generally speaking, beyond the sixtieth district, it was all desolate mountains and barren wilderness, where even birds wouldn't bother to defecate.
Zanpakutō District was the eightieth district of North Rukongai—the VIP among desolate mountains, the fighter jet among barren hills.
Being born here, having a name would be the real oddity.
Once most of his subordinates had dispersed, Satoru turned to look beside him.
"Why are you still here?"
Shinji, hands tucked in his sleeves, grinned.
"Nothing better to do anyway, so I figured I'd stick around and watch."
"You're looking for someone to take over the Eleventh Division, aren't you... I'm genuinely curious what kind of person could catch your eye."
Satoru snorted.
"Then keep watching."
He pulled out his Zanpakutō and stabbed it into the ground beside him.
A shadow rose from the earth, coalescing into a large sunshade.
Beneath it, a recliner also formed from condensed shadow.
With a grunt, Satoru plopped into the recliner, stretching comfortably.
Witnessing this display, Shinji wore an expression of utter disbelief.
This brat, could he be any more indulgent?
He hurried over, smiling ingratiatingly:
"Hey, hey, Satoru, make one for me too!"
"That'll be ten million."
"?"
Shinji was furious.
Even the most unscrupulous tourist traps weren't this exploitative!
Gritting his teeth, he said, "Kid, think carefully—Sōsuke is my vice-captain. If you offend me, aren't you afraid I'll make trouble for Sōsuke when I get back?"
Satoru looked surprised. "You're that unafraid of death?"
"?"
Shinji was taken aback, unsure why Satoru would say that.
Just as he was about to press further, he frowned and glanced back in the direction they'd come from.
There, a conspicuous Reiatsu could be felt.
The Reiatsu was sharp, carrying an aggressive momentum.
Even from a distance, it felt like needles pricking the skin.
"That area is... District 79? What's happening?"
Beside him, Satoru sat up from his recliner.
He raised a finger, sampling the flavor of the Reiatsu in the air.
It was an unfamiliar Reiatsu, yet not entirely unknown.
Sharp and unbridled, mixed with a soaring fighting spirit.
It was the Reiatsu of a warrior.
"Who goes there!"
"Stop, don't take another step forward!"
Several members of the 11th Division drew their swords, blocking the path.
Under their watchful eyes, a tall, lean man strode forward step by step.
The man had long, disheveled hair and a slender face marked by a scar.
In his hand, he held a notched longsword, jagged like a saw.
Even the laziest person who neglected their weapon would sigh at the sight of this blade.
They'd realize they were actually quite skilled at maintaining their own weapons.
Perched on the man's shoulder was a little girl with pink hair.
Following behind him were two young men, who appeared to be around 18 in human years.
One had a shaved head and a defiant expression.
The other had medium-short hair and wore a purple yukata with large patterns.
Seeing the Shinigami blocking their way, the long-haired man raised an eyebrow.
"Hmm... Looks like you're the ones."
"Hey, are you Satoru Mikami?!"
He lifted his sword, pointing at one of the Shinigami.
"Huh?"
Hearing this bizarre question, the Shinigami was momentarily stunned.
Before he could say anything, the long-haired man shook his head dismissively:
"No, you're too weak. It's not you."
"Hey, are you Satoru Mikami?"
He shifted his sword, pointing at another Shinigami.
The first Shinigami who'd been questioned showed an irritated expression.
"Bastard, what kind of joke is this?!"
With that, he raised his sword with both hands and charged forward to strike.
But before his blade could descend, the bald youth following behind rushed forward and delivered a powerful kick.
The kick landed squarely in the Shinigami's stomach, sending him flying backward.
"Ugh!!"
The Shinigami cried out in pain, bracing for impact with the ground.
But a hand suddenly reached out from the side, catching him mid-flight.
Under the Shinigami's surprised gaze, Satoru grabbed him by the back of his collar and casually set him aside.
"Brother Satoru!!"
Seeing that Satoru had saved him, the Shinigami showed a touched expression.
Unfortunately, Satoru wasn't looking at him.
Gazing at the group before him, he smiled.
Long-haired man, little girl, bald guy, flamboyant one.
This quartet perfectly embodied the future 11th Division's characteristics.
It was Zaraki's little team!
And the long-haired man was now looking at him with great interest.
"Oh... You're different from those guys."
"You've got strength. You can fight."
"That guy named Kiganjō was defeated by you, right?"
Hearing this, Satoru looked curious: "You're quite well-informed."
The yukata-wearing man, Ayasegawa Yumichika, chuckled lightly:
"That Kiganjō guy was causing trouble around District 60. People nearby had long been fed up with him."
"Someone pooled money to hire our captain to take care of him... We never expected to hear someone had already defeated Kiganjō when we just arrived."
"Don't worry, the boss isn't here to cause you trouble. He just wants to see what kind of guy could defeat Kiganjō."
No sooner had the words been spoken than the long-haired man shook his head.
Grinning widely, he tightened his grip on his saw-like sword.
"No, I've changed my mind."
"You're Satoru, right? Let's fight!"
"Someone like you might actually give me some real fun!"
Seeing Zaraki's excitement, Satoru felt a spark of anticipation himself.
"What a coincidence. I came here specifically looking for you."
"If I win, you'll come with me to the Seireitei and become a Shinigami!"
"Win first, then talk!"
The long-haired man, the future Kenpachi Zaraki, grinned ferociously as he swung his sword at Satoru!
Satoru opened his hand, and the Zanpakutō embedded in the ground beside him sprang up, spinning through the air into his grasp.
Gripping his Zanpakutō, he executed an upward slash to meet Zaraki's blade.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!!!
In an instant, their swords had clashed over a dozen times.
The spectators around them wore stunned expressions.
Shinji hadn't expected someone in Rukongai capable of delivering such oppressive slashes.
Ikkaku and Yumichika were shocked that anyone could fight their boss head-on!