At this moment—
Within the video frame, all traces of darkness faded from Kyōraku Shunsui's form.
Clad in his pink flowered haori, twin blades glimmering at his sides,
he stared down his wounded opponent with calm, predatory eyes.
"Espada…"
"You seem to have… forgotten my existence."
The twin edges of Katen Kyōkotsu still gleamed wetly—
fresh blood dripping from the tips of its blades.
The confrontation before the camera mirrored the very first moments of this ranking arc—
the same battlefield, the same two men.
Only now, the advantage had reversed.
Because of that one stealth strike from the shadows,
Starrk's chest had been pierced clean through.
His breathing ragged, his movements slow—
the wolf-king now stood at the edge of collapse.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk…"
"Captain Aizen, just look at that.
The world's full of cunning men—and Kyōraku's no exception, eh?"
Inside the 5th Division, Gin Ichimaru smiled lazily, his tone dripping with amusement.
One would think, as the overseer of Hueco Mundo and the Espada,
he'd feel at least a hint of sympathy for poor Starrk.
But Gin only smirked wider,
his tone almost playful,
as if Starrk's death were already sealed—
not even worth a serious word.
And Aizen?
He wasn't any more sentimental.
"Hiding in his opponent's shadow, merging with darkness,
and striking at close range… so that's it."
"This must be Katen Kyōkotsu's Shikai ability."
Behind his glasses, Aizen's cold eyes reflected the moving image—
no pity, only analysis.
Every motion, every rule, every detail of the technique was what interested him.
"Indeed, Lord Aizen."
Tōsen Kaname nodded firmly from behind him.
"To my knowledge, Katen Kyōkotsu is unlike most Zanpakutō—it manipulates rules themselves.
It's one of the most troublesome abilities imaginable."
His voice trembled slightly with unease.
Even as a captain himself,
knowing the information beforehand wasn't enough to make him confident.
To fight against Kyōraku,
to survive a battle where the rules themselves bent against you—
was a nightmare.
No wonder Starrk had fallen for it.
Meanwhile—
The voice of Kyōraku himself echoed through the air,
reverberating from the screen:
"Children's games…"
"That's what Katen Kyōkotsu's Shikai is all about."
"Anyone who steps into its field of spiritual pressure—"
"—must join the game."
"As for the rules…"
A faint grin curved his lips.
"They're decided by Katen Kyōkotsu itself."
Holding both blades, his posture was relaxed, casual even—
like a man at play, not at war.
The image of a captain who turned killing into a child's game
spread across the worlds.
And right now—
Kyōraku was winning that game.
"Hmph…"
"A rule-type Zanpakutō, huh?"
"Intriguing."
Inside Silbern, the Wandenreich's shining city,
the Sternritter exchanged wary glances.
"It's not unlike His Majesty's Schrift powers," one of them muttered.
"No wonder this Zanpakutō ranks eighth."
Their earlier arrogance dulled slightly.
Even the proud Quincy could not deny it—
This ability was terrifying.
A rule-bound reality where Kyōraku decided who could die.
And Starrk, bleeding before their eyes,
was living proof of its efficiency.
For the first time since these countdowns began,
the pureblood Quincy were shaken.
And this…
was only Shikai.
What then, they wondered,
could his Bankai possibly do?
But Kyōraku didn't stop there.
Seizing his advantage, he raised both blades once more.
"Espada…"
"Let me remind you of something."
With a flicker of movement, his figure vanished—
then reappeared high above, looming over Starrk.
"Don't blink."
He smiled,
and the twin blades descended.
"CLANG—!!!"
Sparks exploded as their weapons met.
Starrk had barely reacted in time,
crossing his pistols to block the blow—
but the next moment,
his eyes widened in shock.
"What—what is this?!"
"Why… why did his strike suddenly grow stronger?!"
Before he could finish,
Kyōraku's next swing sent him flying like a meteor.
His body smashed through the air,
through smoke, through broken walls,
plowing a massive crater into the earth.
The street below split open for hundreds of meters,
a jagged scar of stone and dust marking the path of impact.
For an instant, it looked as though the fight had ended then and there.
"This is insane…"
"Captain Kenpachi—don't you think that slash was even stronger than yours?!"
In Squad 11, both Ikkaku and Yumichika froze, mouths open.
They stared at the screen,
at the gaping trench left behind by that single, ordinary swing.
It was absurd.
It was beautifully violent.
Kenpachi's underlings exchanged a look—
and both came to the same silent conclusion.
Right now…
Kyōraku Shunsui
was the true King of Pure Slash.
Because once Katen Kyōkotsu was unleashed—
every swing,
every cut,
every rule—
was absolute carnage.
(End of Chapter)
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