This was a barren wasteland, nothing in sight but coarse, scraggly weeds.
There weren't even any low bushes or trees. The wind that blew across the land was so dry it seemed to strip the moisture from your lips, and if it kept blowing long enough, you'd almost feel like your skin was about to crack and peel.
This was a place even more desolate than the lawless, blood-soaked 80th District. A region so remote and wild it didn't even have a number, beyond the outer bounds of the Rukongai.
Even those who lived in the 80th District, people already numb to death, theft, and murder, didn't dare venture here.
If in the first fifty districts, the appearance of a Hollow was the stuff of rumor, talk of shadowy beasts occasionally slain by passing Shinigami, more a curiosity than a concern…
And if, in the last thirty districts, people had grown so used to danger that they spoke of Hollows as if they were no different from violent thugs and marauders…
Then beyond the 80th District, just walking around for a bit was enough to run into not one or two, but whole packs of Hollows. Seven, eight, even dozens.
It was said that, years ago, Shinigami used to come here to capture these Hollows, perhaps for study, or for purposes unknown, bringing them back to the Seireitei.
But for the past couple of years, such activities had all but stopped.
The air was heavy with the tang of blood, lending a humid bite to the otherwise arid wind.
And amidst this wasteland, there rang the dry, sharp clash of steel.
One man, no, one lone figure, stood against a tide of Hollows numbering in the dozens.
He faced them without fear: massive beasts, each towering over him, grotesque in shape and monstrous in presence. Yet he moved with serene grace, his expression calm, his strikes as fluid as they were lethal.
More accurately, he wasn't just fighting them, he was slaughtering them, effortlessly cutting down every Hollow that came too close.
The blood soaking the ground and tinting the air red was theirs alone.
Each swing of his blade carved through the air like a hot knife through butter, carrying a swirl of dark energy tinged faintly with violet. Every stroke felled a Hollow. One strike, one kill.
And just a short distance behind him stood another man, completely calm, as if he knew the danger couldn't touch him.
His eyes never left the silver-haired warrior. Fascinated, he watched every swing, every maneuver. He seemed thoroughly entertained, even delighted, by the strange, airborne movements Seff used to drift and dart through the air like a ghost.
It was as if the man believed Seff held endless secrets worth uncovering.
The battle was over in the blink of an eye.
Having dispatched the pack, Seff landed gracefully before the man, flicked the blood off his blade, and sheathed it in one fluid motion.
The middle-aged man with sun-kissed skin raised a hand and clapped appreciatively, his long black ponytail swaying in the breeze.
"Incredible," he said with genuine admiration.
"Save it," Seff replied, waving dismissively.
"Every single day since we got here has been like this. You don't need to pretend to be impressed anymore, Soichiro."
"Ah, but have you considered," Soichiro said with that ever-present easy smile, "that no matter how many times I see it, I still find it impressive? There may be plenty who can slay Hollows, but to do it with such elegance and efficiency? That's rare."
Seff scoffed lightly. "Maybe you just haven't seen what real Shinigami can do. I'm sure the ones living in the Seireitei could wipe out these things without even trying."
Even back in the Rukongai, Seff had occasionally heard stories of Shinigami who died fighting Hollows, and seen their abandoned blades traded on the black market.
But still, he chose to believe, perhaps out of principle, that the Soul Society's monopoly on violence didn't come from nothing. The Shinigami who held power in the Seireitei weren't to be underestimated.
After all, if he, after just a month or so of self-taught training, could achieve this much strength, then surely the Shinigami, who followed a system, a structure, and trained far longer, couldn't be weaker.
He half-joked, half-meant every word.
But what he didn't notice was that, at his words, Soichiro's smile twitched slightly. For just a moment, his expression cracked. There was a flicker of something strange, before his polite demeanor quickly returned.
It had been over two weeks since Seff accepted Soichiro's commission.
Despite appearing like a pampered noble, Soichiro wasn't ordinary. He didn't slow Seff down, didn't need to be coddled. His speech, his presence, it all hinted at a deeper complexity.
Still, Seff hadn't pried into his client's identity or motivations. If the client didn't volunteer it, there was no reason to ask.
Of course, if Soichiro was trying to quietly screw him over, then he'd learn quickly that Seff wasn't an easy mark.
No ill intent, but always caution. That was how one survived on the road.
Days ago, they had stepped beyond the edge of the 80th District into this wild no-man's-land. Since then, Seff had been guarding Soichiro as they wandered the terrain, constantly fighting off waves of Hollows that treated them like prey.
"Getting tired of this already?" Soichiro asked, noting the slight crease in Seff's brow.
Seff said nothing, but Soichiro continued anyway.
Their rapport had grown considerably over the past two weeks. Soichiro wasn't a clingy client, beyond the occasional instruction or change in route, he generally went along with Seff's decisions without complaint.
At the same time, he wasn't some mute, aloof noble. In truth, he was surprisingly talkative, a bit of a closet chatterbox. No matter what topic Seff brought up, the guy could keep up with ease.
His comprehension skills were annoyingly sharp, too. Even when Seff accidentally dropped a modern slang term or a piece of internet lingo, Soichiro would figure it out and start using it fluently in the next conversation.
After spending half a month together day in, day out, given that neither found the other annoying, their relationship had naturally grown comfortable.
Which was why Soichiro could easily tell that something was bothering Seff.
And why he didn't take offense at the cold tone. He just kept smiling.
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200 P.S = 1 Extra Chapters
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🚨 TL/N 💥
Hello guys Fanfic recommendation!
Check out my other work:
💥> Naruto: Mind Control (Highly Recommended)
💥> Naruto: Cooking Makes Me Stronger
💥> Naruto: Weapon Legacy
If you like smart and strong MC, this fanfic is for you.
It's Peak.
Give it a chance and you won't be disappointed