Chapter 265: Not My Aesthetic
"Come eat, come eat!"
At the Eleventh Division, Satoru happily called out while holding a large paper bag.
Yachiru was the first to cheerfully run over, taking a persimmon cake and taking a big bite.
Munch munch.
The girl squinted her eyes, cupped her cheeks with her small hands, and showed a blissful expression.
"So delicious!"
"Hehe, tasty, right? These were handmade by my white-haired brother. They're the only ones like this in the entire Soul Society~"
As he spoke, Satoru gave Yachiru another one.
Rangiku came over, her gaze somewhat nostalgic.
"Persimmon cakes... Back in Rukongai, when I saw people in the village selling these, that desperate craving I felt... thinking about it now, it's kind of nostalgic."
Satoru took one for himself, then pushed the bag toward Rangiku.
"Eat, eat to your heart's content! Make up for all the ones you missed before!"
"My Eleventh Division doesn't raise hungry soldiers!"
Seeing her captain's hearty demeanor, Rangiku couldn't help but laugh.
Instead of taking one from the bag, she suddenly snatched the persimmon cake right out of Satoru's hand.
Under Satoru's puzzled gaze, she triumphantly waved her prize:
"Stolen ones taste better!"
Hearing this, Satoru suddenly had an epiphany.
No wonder Rangiku's hair color was so unique—she had American genes!
As everyone gathered, the persimmon cakes sent by Jūshirō Ukitake were quickly shared and eaten.
With a few left, Satoru saved them.
Aizen was conducting experiments at the Rukongai base today, so he planned to bring the remaining persimmon cakes to him.
After greeting his squad members, he left the Seireitei and stepped into the air.
Halfway through his journey, snowflakes began to drift from the sky.
Feeling the cold flakes land on his face, Satoru suddenly remembered that he had found Rangiku on a snowy day.
If he hadn't encountered Rangiku back then, what would have happened to the little girl?
Without any surprises, she would have likely fallen victim to Sōsuke, completely consumed without a trace.
That guy Sōsuke truly had no qualms about his actions.
Although Rangiku as a child wasn't as stunningly beautiful as she is now, nor did she possess her future voluptuousness, she was still an exceptionally pretty young girl.
Faced with such an adorable child, Sōsuke had shown no hesitation—directly extracting her soul fragments before departing without even looking back.
Could that guy possibly lack any aesthetic sense?
This thought occurred to Satoru as he performed Flash Steps.
Now that he thought about it, that Sōsuke fellow had never been involved with anyone from start to finish.
Even someone like DIO, who viewed humans as mere bread, had left behind several children with his "bread."
No matter how strange Sōsuke's aesthetic sense might be, he wouldn't go so far as to treat people like bread, right?
Had that guy never considered finding a wife?
Kisuke would be quite suitable...
...
...
Hearing Satoru's question, Aizen looked at him with pitying eyes.
"Mortal thought patterns."
"Temporary physical pleasures hold no meaning for me."
"Rather than seeking a female to establish a useless family unit, I'd prefer to spend that time contemplating problems or reading books."
As he spoke, he took a dried persimmon from a paper bag and took a bite.
Satoru felt utterly dismayed.
If everyone thought like you, how would the country... cough... how would the Soul Society develop?
Oh right, the Soul Society can directly import souls from the living world. Never mind then.
After finishing the persimmon, Aizen wiped his hands.
"Let's go."
"Huh? Where to?"
Satoru was momentarily confused.
"Rukongai."
While answering the question, Aizen entered a code and retrieved a sparkling gem from a cabinet.
Seeing this object, Satoru curiously moved closer.
Ever since they had conquered Las Noches and established the new Hueco Mundo regime several years ago, Aizen's research had suddenly accelerated dramatically.
The Hōgyoku project, which had originally been just a newly created folder, was now mostly completed.
"Today's plan is to find some souls with spiritual power potential."
"I've already identified suitable targets. We can proceed directly."
Carrying the Hōgyoku and accompanied by Satoru, Aizen left the laboratory and headed toward District 60.
Before long, the two arrived at a small village, their feet treading on thin snow cover.
A small stream passed through the area.
Though the water flow was modest, it provided sufficient Reishi for most souls' needs.
Aizen's target was a chest-haired man from this village.
Throughout the entire village, he was the only soul capable of eating food.
The ability to eat served as proof of possessing spiritual power talent.
Relying on this innate ability, the large man held considerable authority in the village, usually being the one who bullied others rather than finding himself captured.
After drinking from the stream and preparing to return home to sleep, he suddenly found himself immobilized by Aizen's Reiatsu.
Under the terrifying spiritual pressure, the chest-haired man couldn't even speak, forced to watch helplessly as this unidentified individual pressed a gem against his forehead.
!!!!
The moment the gem touched his skin, the burly man felt a terrifying force surge into his body.
He opened his mouth, wanting to scream, but no sound came out.
Gurgle!
Thick white liquid gushed from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.
The fluid resembled silk spat out by a spider, rapidly solidifying upon contact with the air.
Gradually, the white liquid formed a hard, bony layer that encased his entire face.
Finally, the man could make a sound.
However, what emerged was not a human voice but a beast-like roar, as if layered with multiple distorted echoes.
The sound, mixed with restless Reiatsu, spread outward.
But just a few meters away, it was completely blocked by the Reiatsu barrier Satoru had deployed.
Aizen stood nearby, holding a file folder and quickly taking notes.
His pen moved so fast it left afterimages.
As the white mask fully solidified, Aizen's interest visibly heightened.
He alternated between rapid note-taking and adjusting the positions of various recording instruments.
When Aizen was less occupied, Satoru approached.
"Is this... a success?"
Aizen shook his head. "It's not that simple."
As if to validate his words, after struggling for a moment, the burly man suddenly shattered completely.
One moment he was a whole person; the next, he had disintegrated into scattered Reishi, dissipating into the air.
The tattered yukata he had been wearing fell directly to the ground.
Satoru couldn't help but feel a bit regretful.
"I almost succeeded..."
Aizen, however, remained composed. "It's fine, this is normal. In fact, most Hollowfication experiments fail at this stage."
"What we need to do now is continuously adjust the test subject's soul strength, record more data, and calibrate the Hōgyoku's output accordingly."
"Let's go find our next target."
Under Aizen's lead, within just two hours, Satoru witnessed seven failed Hollowfication attempts where souls shattered completely.
After recording the data, Aizen compared the results on the spot.
About ten minutes later, he looked at Satoru.
"Let's call it a day. The data from these people are largely similar. It seems conducting more experiments at this level won't yield different results."
Hearing this, Satoru, who had been dozing against a large tree, immediately perked up.
Watching Satoru suddenly revive and cheerfully approach him, Aizen found it somewhat amusing.
"If you find it boring, don't come along next time."
"Field experiments might sound interesting, but they're actually quite monotonous mechanical work."
"With your personality, you definitely wouldn't be able to endure it."
Satoru hummed in agreement. "True, it's really boring."
"But I'll still come along occasionally."
"Though it might not mean much to you, I don't want you to be the only one carrying out these life-taking tasks."
"Having only your hands stained while I hide on the sidelines—that doesn't align with my principles."
As he spoke, he stretched and grinned.
"Finally done! Let's go back and eat!"
Seeing the smiling face before him, Aizen was momentarily taken aback.
Then, he shook his head with an amused expression.
Killing meant nothing to him—it wasn't a burden at all.
If anything, the real hassle was having to go through extra steps to specifically target those who deserved punishment, just to accommodate someone's sensibilities.
But...
For some reason, hearing those words actually put him in a better mood.
Probably because watching that fool act foolishly was rather entertaining.
In good spirits, he put away his folder and walked back with Satoru.
Suddenly, Satoru stopped in his tracks.
He looked around curiously, then headed in a certain direction.
Aizen was initially puzzled, unsure what Satoru had noticed.
Following Satoru's path, he extended his senses and revealed a slightly surprised expression.
Treading through the snow, Satoru approached a large tree.
Brushing the snow off the trunk, he soon revealed a tree hollow concealed by leaves.
A silver-haired boy was curled up inside the hollow, sleeping peacefully.
His skin was pale—so pale it looked lifeless.
The yukata he wore was somewhat worn but not dirty.
Looking at the sleeping boy, a word popped into Satoru's mind.
Hibernation.
Like a snake quietly coiled in its nest, waiting for winter to pass.
The analogy might be a bit odd, but that was his first impression of the boy.
The next moment, Satoru suddenly gasped in recognition.
Silver hair, a young boy, with a snake-like aura.
After searching for so long, he had unexpectedly found Ichimaru Gin here.
Aizen walked over and glanced at the boy in the tree hollow.
Sensing the boy's aura, he adjusted his glasses.
"He has Reiatsu, and it's quite strong at that."
"And it seems he hasn't eaten for a long time."
"A commoner from Rukongai, in a state of starvation, yet possessing such intense Reiatsu... This boy has remarkable talent."
Of course he does—this is a genuine potential prodigy, the kind of genius who could kill you even after you've transformed with the Hōgyoku.
Satoru chuckled cheerfully and pulled a paper bag from his sleeve.
There were only two persimmon cakes left. He took one out and offered it to the boy.
The aroma of food made the boy slowly open his eyes.
Staring at the persimmon cake before him, he froze for a moment.
Then, catching sight of Satoru and Aizen, his pupils contracted sharply. He burst out of the tree hollow with a sudden burst of energy, rolled across the snowy ground, and assumed a defensive stance.
Satoru, still holding the persimmon cake, grinned and moved closer.
"Don't be afraid, kid, I'm not a bad guy..."
"Look, I've got food here. Come on, it's really tasty."
Aizen: "..."
Watching Satoru, he felt a wave of emotion.
If this didn't count as a bad guy, then there probably weren't any bad guys left in the world.
The silver-haired boy quickly assessed the situation.
He was no match for these two—run!
Without a word, he turned to flee.
But before he could take a step, he was shocked to find himself floating in the air!
The boy turned his head in astonishment.
He saw Satoru, using the hand not holding the persimmon cake, make a grabbing motion from a distance and pull him backward.
Thump!
The silver-haired boy landed in Satoru's grasp, held by the back of his collar.
In that instant, the boy understood the situation clearly.
This smiling man was far stronger than he was.
Escape was likely impossible.
After a moment of rapid thought, he tentatively asked:
"What... what ability is this?"
"Huh? You mean the move I just used to grab you?"
Satoru tilted his head back proudly. "This is Dragon-Subduing Palm, still in its rudimentary stages. Don't laugh."
The boy fell into deep thought.
He had been planning to act like a sensible child, flatter the man's ability, and maybe if the man was in a good mood, he'd let him go.
But... he could barely understand the reply.
What the hell was Dragon-Subduing Palm?
As he was lost in thought, Aizen spoke up:
"What do we do with him? If you don't want him, give him to me. I'll take him back for experiments."
Hearing this, the boy's heart sank.
The worst-case scenario had finally happened.
He couldn't escape, his tricks were useless—was he doomed?
Just as he was thinking this, he saw Satoru shake his head.
"I'll take him back with me."
"Fine."
Aizen wasn't surprised by Satoru's choice.
The Eleventh Division had become a famous talent cultivation base ever since Satoru became its captain.
Nobles from all over were eager to send their children to the Eleventh Division.
But Satoru personally mentored only a select few.
Aizen glanced at this white-haired kid.
This boy, being noticed by Satoru, had hit the jackpot.
With Satoru's training and his own decent talent, he'd at least become a vice-captain in the future.
Maybe even a captain.
While Aizen was thinking, Satoru had already coaxed the boy into eating the persimmon cake.
As he ate, the boy told them his name.
Unsurprisingly, it was Ichimaru Gin.
The boy wasn't old, roughly equivalent to a human child of eleven or twelve.
But his long life of wandering had given him some ability to read people.
First, both men were wearing Shinigami Uniforms—no doubt, they were both Shinigami.
Any one of them could easily crush him to death.
Between the two, the bespectacled one was particularly dangerous.
The way he looked at him was completely devoid of emotion, as if viewing a mere tool.
In contrast, the one who initially seemed like a villain wasn't actually bad-natured.
Once he realized this, he accepted Satoru's dried persimmon without hesitation.
Building a good relationship with this man was definitely the right move!
When Satoru proposed adopting him, Gin agreed immediately without a second thought.
Seeing how sensible the young boy was, Satoru felt somewhat emotional.
Among all the people he had picked up over the years, this was probably the most obedient one.
That certain green-hatted fellow really should learn a thing or two...