Looking at the white-bearded old man with a purple cord binding his beard, Kurosaki Rei felt both excited and slightly surprised.
Excited—because he was finally seeing one of the supreme powerhouses of this world with his own eyes.
Surprised—because the Head Captain seemed… a bit short.
Maybe he hadn't paid attention when reading the manga back then, and the art style had made everyone look taller and more imposing. In his memory, the Head Captain had always felt quite towering. But now that he saw him in person… he didn't seem to be much over 1.7 meters tall.
So people really did shrink with age, huh?
At this moment, every student in the dojo was brimming with excitement. After all, standing before them was a living legend—someone equivalent to the history of Soul Society itself. The pinnacle of all Shinigami. The Captain-Commander of the Gotei Thirteen. The headmaster of the Shin'ō Academy.
No one could have imagined that a mere first-year Hakuda class would be taught personally by the Head Captain.
At this point, it wasn't just the dojo that was packed—people were crowding the doorway as well. Behind every window were at least ten pairs of eyes, all eager to witness the bearing of the strongest Shinigami in Soul Society.
Just as everyone prepared themselves to listen intently to the Head Captain's instruction and perform well in this Hakuda class, the old man raised his hand and pointed in a certain direction.
"Boy. I hear your Hakuda scores are quite good—so good that even that brat Sunagawa can't teach you anymore. How about letting this old man spar with you?"
Eyes.
Eyes came from every direction, and within those gazes were all kinds of emotions.
Shock. Envy. Sympathy.
But most of all—schadenfreude.
Over the past two months, Kurosaki Rei had become the number-one hot topic in the Shin'ō Academy. His name was now known to everyone.
Beating down a Shihōin with his fists.
Cutting down Fujimoto Hashira with his blade.
This guy's talent seemed like a bottomless pit—there was nothing he couldn't do. To the point that many instructors openly admitted they couldn't teach him anymore.
And now?
Now he was finally going to get humbled.
With the Head Captain personally stepping in, wouldn't Kurosaki Rei get beaten into a pig's head?
The people standing near Kurosaki Rei all stepped back, including a faintly amused Aizen and a clearly delighted Yoruichi.
Under everyone's gaze, Kurosaki Rei didn't flinch. He grinned instead.
"To receive the Head Captain's guidance—nothing could be better."
He stepped forward, tightened the sash at his waist, then shrugged off the upper half of his uniform, letting it fall at his side.
The Shin'ō Academy uniform was too loose. When it came to real fighting, he always felt it got in the way. And the person standing before him was the pinnacle of Shinigami—he had to go all out.
For the first time in a long while, Kurosaki Rei felt his blood truly begin to boil, urging him to climb the towering mountain before him.
"Wow… Rei-kun's body is amazing…"
"Looking closely, he's really manly—so handsome and masculine."
"Those abs, those back muscles… I really want to touch them…"
As Kurosaki Rei removed his top, the students couldn't help but stare. He was the textbook definition of slim when clothed, muscular when bare.
From the front, his muscle lines looked like something out of an ancient Greek statue—divinely sculpted. And for those standing behind him, the sight was even more striking.
Kurosaki Rei's back muscles were extremely developed, perfectly symmetrical, forming what looked almost like a pattern—violence rendered into beauty.
The noisy chatter never reached Kurosaki Rei's ears.
At this moment, there was only one person in his eyes—the old man before him.
"Mm. You've trained well."
The Head Captain glanced at Kurosaki Rei's physique and offered his approval. Then, the wide haori on his own shoulders billowed upward. When it fell, it revealed his own bare upper body.
Only then did the younger students realize—
This was no kindly, diminutive old man.
That compact torso was packed with steel-like muscle, every inch forged through blood and battle. The scars etched by time told the story of countless life-and-death struggles, exuding a brutal, ferocious aura.
As the haori landed on the ground, the Head Captain took a single step forward.
In that instant, Kurosaki Rei felt his body stiffen.
In his eyes, the old man's figure seemed to rise endlessly. Though he wasn't releasing even a shred of spiritual pressure, an invisible force bore down on Kurosaki Rei, threatening to crush him outright.
What stood before him wasn't a mountain to climb—
It was a world-ending tsunami rushing straight toward him.
"Boy, focus…"
The old man's eyes—like those of a tiger—locked onto Kurosaki Rei.
"And grit your teeth."
After that brief stiffness, Kurosaki Rei felt his heart begin to pound.
Thump—thump—thump—thump—thump-thump-thump-thump…
Like war drums being beaten, his fighting spirit surged upward.
The exhilaration of facing a true powerhouse overwhelmed the suffocating pressure. In a place Kurosaki Rei himself couldn't see, a trace of deep violet flickered within his pitch-black pupils.
Boom—
It was a punch that felt as though it split the heavens.
The floor beneath Kurosaki Rei shattered as he dispersed the force, and his body was sent flying backward, slamming hard into the wall behind him.
"Oh? Quick reaction."
The Head Captain now stood where Kurosaki Rei had been just moments ago, calmly withdrawing his aged fist.
Kurosaki Rei leaned against the wall riddled with cracks, lowering the arms he'd used to protect his face. His right arm bore a clear indentation—a crimson fist mark stamped deep into it.
The pain didn't frighten him.
Instead, it made the fire in his blood burn hotter.
As he stepped forward, he rolled his shoulders and limbs. His neck twisted with a series of explosive cracks, his eyes blazing with exhilarated battle intent.
There was no need to ask—of course the Head Captain had suppressed his spiritual pressure. Otherwise, that single punch would have turned him into dust.
Which meant the Head Captain had used roughly sixteenth-grade spiritual pressure—and yet, even with Kurosaki Rei successfully defending, that punch had nearly shattered his right arm.
His arm wasn't broken, but its function was severely impaired. As he advanced, light flared in his left hand and pressed against the dent in his right arm. A few seconds later, the indentation filled back in, leaving only a red fist mark behind.
"Kaidō, hm. Such slow recovery speed is useless in real combat."
The Head Captain didn't press the attack, choosing instead to comment.
He didn't say Kaidō was useless in battle—because he knew Unohana could wield it mid-combat. Kurosaki Rei simply hadn't reached that level yet.
Kurosaki Rei grinned.
"I just wanted to give myself one chance to challenge you at my peak."
He lowered his stance slightly.
The next instant, in the eyes of ordinary students, he vanished.
Bang—
The sound of fists and limbs colliding rang out.
Kurosaki Rei's figure reappeared in midair—his right leg clashing against the Head Captain's wrist. The shockwave stirred the old man's beard, yet his body didn't move an inch.
Within that fleeting moment, the Head Captain didn't even glance upward.
He merely rotated his wrist, seized Kurosaki Rei's ankle, and then—like swinging a battle axe—smashed him straight into the ground.
The observing students didn't dare breathe.
They were shocked that Kurosaki Rei—acknowledged as the strongest Hakuda practitioner among the students—was utterly outmatched in the Head Captain's hands. And even more shocked that the Head Captain showed absolutely no mercy.
That blow was so heavy—was Kurosaki Rei going to be beaten to death?
But in the very next instant—
Amid the splintering wood and billowing dust, an arm shot out like a serpent.
Even the Head Captain's eyes flickered with surprise.
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