"Me?!"
Kisaragi Akira's eyes widened in shock, his jaw nearly hitting the floor. He could hardly believe what he had just heard. Either his presence had been discovered, and someone had deliberately set him up for a suicide mission—or, more likely, Kōmyō Anzai had gone completely mad from drinking too much and was now babbling nonsense in the dead of night.
Why not just let him assassinate Yamamoto? Sneaking into the Twelfth Squad to steal something? That sounded even crazier. Honestly, compared to that, taking out Yamamoto would be a walk in the park. Both tasks might end in death, sure, but at least with Yamamoto, there wouldn't be a chance of being toyed with first. Yamamoto's strike would be clean, merciless, and absolute.
And then there was Kiryu Hifune. Not a particularly friendly type either. Or maybe it was that nobody doing research in Soul Society was "normal."
"Any issues?"
Kōmyō Anzai's voice was calm, but carried a weight that perfectly matched the demeanor of a competent superior.
"Yes."
Kisaragi Akira admitted it openly, unlike the usual sycophants who pretend everything is fine until disaster strikes. "The Twelfth Squad is heavily guarded. Besides the researchers, there are plenty of combat-ready Shinigami stationed throughout."
"Defense measures are extensive—traps, spirit tools, Kido barriers, you name it. And then there's Captain Kiryu. With my little frame, I'd be lucky to survive two strikes."
Anzai's eyes flicked in surprise at the young boy in front of him. He hadn't expected such thoughtfulness from someone who had only recently joined their side, already considering the mission's details.
"No need to worry," Anzai replied gravely. "Not long ago, Kiryu went to the Severance Realm to collect suitable experimental materials. Right now, the Twelfth Squad is empty—perfect timing for our operation."
On the surface, Kisaragi Akira beamed with joy, thrilled at the upcoming "success" of the mission. Inside, his mind was a tangled mess of panic and twisted calculation.
Sure, Kiryu Hifune is gone—but the zero-squad aspirant, Shidoro Senjumaru, remained. That woman made even Yamamoto look tame. She didn't hesitate to strip people down under her scrutinizing gaze, sometimes even taking measurements firsthand. After all his years in Soul Society, Kisaragi Akira had never met someone so… terrifying.
Even with his own power greatly improved, facing Senjumaru again would leave him hopeless. The gap was too wide—like trying to pull a wagon ten times your size, only to end up frothing at the mouth from exhaustion.
"You're not even the main operative," Anzai continued with a low laugh. "Someone stronger will lead this mission. Your role is simple: follow orders and coordinate. Once this succeeds, the noble seat and mansion I promised will be yours. I do not break my word."
Other nobles nodded and murmured their agreement, some congratulating Kisaragi Akira in advance, others sneering with thinly veiled envy. A cold breeze swept through the window, rattling the hall and amplifying the chatter.
That night, the moon hung low and hazy. In the sprawling mansion's courtyard, several figures clad in black, faces obscured, gathered together. A faint glow of spiritual energy enveloped them, adding an extra layer of concealment.
Kisaragi Akira stood among them, silently praying for the mission's success—and hoping that the ever-hungry woman from before wasn't in the Twelfth Squad, or was at least catching up on her beauty sleep and ignoring their actions.
"Everyone knows the target," Anzai said sternly. "We have only one chance. Failure means starting over. For our ambition, for the ultimate supremacy! Success is the only option. I'll await your good news!"
Despite the pompous speech, it stirred a surge of adrenaline in Kisaragi Akira. He noticed veins bulging on the necks of his companions, faces flushed red with excitement. Had Anzai eaten some "inspiration fruit" or something?
"Yes, Lord Anzai!" they all shouted, swearing to complete the mission.
"Don't drag me into your death vow!" Kisaragi Akira shivered, feeling as if he had leapt straight into a den of wolves. Grassroots had never mentioned this mission. Once on this boat, there was no turning back.
Though Anzai repeatedly assured him the plan was flawless, Kisaragi Akira's heart still thudded nervously. Senjumaru's shadow lingered in his mind, a haunting reminder of just how frightening an opponent could be.
"Move out!"
With that, the team scattered using Shunpo, disappearing into the night. Black garments blended perfectly with the darkness. Kisaragi Akira watched the team carefully; the members were all terrifyingly strong. By spiritual pressure alone, most were comparable to high-ranked officers.
At the front, the strongest of them all, a captain-level Shinigami, led the group. His Third-Class Spiritual Authority alone made it clear that this squad could overrun any team without a captain present. The mission's objective, however, was stealthy: steal a scientific technology in progress. Clearly, Anzai valued this technology immensely.
Kisaragi Akira quickened his pace, closing in on the lead Shinigami.
"Boss, haven't introduced yourself yet?"
The black-clad figure cast him a side glance. "Seventh Squad. Enami Otoko."
Kisaragi Akira froze, forming an instinctive question mark, and subtly stepped back. He hadn't heard of the name, but instinctively gave the man space—first impressions in such cases were hard to change.
Enami Otoko, slightly puzzled at the boy's retreat, remained silent, maintaining his stoic persona. They proceeded silently through the night. The streets were clear of patrolling Shinigami, evidence that the team had prepared meticulously.
Finally, they arrived at the Twelfth Squad barracks.
"The target may be stored in one of three locations. Split up. Retrieve immediately if found; if not, alert the others. Any questions?" Enami Otoko distributed a detailed floor plan. It was clear from the markings that there was an inside informant in the Twelfth Squad.
"Yes!" Kisaragi Akira raised his hand under the watchful eyes of his teammates.
"Problem?" Enami Otoko asked, frowning.
"What if we run into someone we can't handle?"
"Then it's just bad luck," Enami Otoko replied coldly. "The vice-captain and officers aren't particularly strong. If they can't be taken down…" His words trailed off, but the implication was clear.
Kisaragi Akira nodded, thoughtful. Orders given, the team melted into the darkness again.
Even at night, the Twelfth Squad wasn't entirely empty. Kisaragi Akira and two teammates carefully avoided routes where they might be spotted, arriving at a building resembling a research lab.
"Soul Extraction Room," one whispered hoarsely, voice like gravel scraping sandpaper. "Kiryu Hifune's primary research site for Artificial Soul technology. Check carefully; documents may be here."
One member formed a hand seal, muttering Kido incantations. When their spiritual energy spread, a massive Kido barrier enveloped the building entirely. Only then did he draw his Zanpakuto, ready to breach the door.
On the second floor, a figure stood by the window, faint Kido light concealing his presence almost completely.
A calm, measured voice: "Infiltrating the Twelfth Squad for a mission… huh? And why is that one here?"
Despite Kisaragi Akira's careful disguise, Aizen had recognized him instantly. Certain instincts, certain quirks, were impossible to fake.
He descended quietly, aligning his actions with Kisaragi Akira's. Soon, the door was breached and all three entered.
The two teammates began rifling through documents and files. Unnoticed, another figure silently formed a hand seal in the shadows. In an instant, a Kido barrier cut off all sound within the room.
Aizen moved gracefully, passing near the two, and with a precise strike, froze their bodies mid-action—life instantly drained from one officer's exposed neck.
Kisaragi Akira's eyes widened in awe, jealousy twisting his gut as he watched. All Shinigami should be the same, so why did Aizen make it look so… stylish?
Aizen's gaze shifted to Kisaragi Akira, who immediately raised his hands in surrender. "Don't attack. We're on the same side!"
Aizen, seeing the clean gesture, remained silent, intrigued by this unresisting boy.
"What are you doing here?"
"Research," Aizen replied succinctly.
"Me?" Kisaragi Akira blinked, perfectly honest. "Stealing stuff."
Aizen: "…." Saying that in front of a Twelfth Squad member? Bold, even for him.
Kisaragi Akira quickly recounted the night's events. Problem-solving? Leave that to Aizen. Surely the tactician could devise a flawless plan.
"The Artificial Soul tech is here," Aizen said, pulling a record from a file. Kisaragi Akira glanced briefly, already feeling drowsy from the dense, complex terminology—pure genius-level overclocking.
"Should we hand this to Anzai?" Aizen asked.
Kisaragi Akira frowned, thinking seriously. "How much do you know about this tech?"
"Everything," Aizen replied nonchalantly, setting the record back.
Kisaragi Akira winced—being overshadowed by a genius was suffocating.
"Science is like that," Aizen explained. "Creating something from zero is hardest. Learning it later is much easier."
Kisaragi Akira's expression twitched. "Can we… tweak it a bit?"
Aizen raised an eyebrow, then relaxed. "I understand. Yes, we can."
Soon, Aizen worked meticulously, rewriting symbols and formulas. The result: a near-perfect replica, with a deviation of less than 0.12%. No matter how Anzai used it, errors would be inevitable.
Handing the forged record to Kisaragi Akira, Aizen destroyed the original.
They staged battle marks and fake wounds for two "fallen" officers.
Meanwhile, in the Twelfth Squad's Soul Calibration Lab, Enami Otoko meticulously sifted through materials.
A soft voice echoed behind him: "The barracks are especially lively tonight…"
The night was far from over.