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Kugo Ginjo. Shukuro Tsukishima.
These two names belonged to the final bosses of the Fullbring arc.
In the original story, after suffering persecution from Soul Society, they tried to destroy the decaying system by stealing Ichigo Kurosaki's Shinigami powers. Their plan failed, the two died, and their souls drifted into Soul Society.
Ryo recalled all the information he knew about them, then smiled gently at the two men standing stiff as boards.
"Nice to meet you, Fullbringers."
"Well now… this is just great." Ginjo's face darkened. A bead of cold sweat slid down his cheek.
He hadn't expected that of all times, when he was once again trying to approach Ichigo Kurosaki… he'd bump into a monster like this.
"To think I'd run into the man who defeated Yamamoto Genryusai head-on… one of Hueco Mundo twin kings, the Black King, Ryo Yagami."
Ryo kept smiling, but internally he was already complaining.
Hueco Mundo Twin Kings? Black King?
Why did these people insist on giving him embarrassing nicknames? And was Aizen supposed to be the White King?
"Wha—" Orihime's mouth dropped open as she stared at Ryo, shocked as if she'd just discovered he could blow up planets.
"…"
Ginjo slowly raised his hands, trying his best to sound peaceful.
"I don't think we have any conflict of interest. In fact, when it comes to dealing with the rotten Soul Society, we're probably on the same side."
He had no intention of fighting Ryo.
He couldn't beat Yamamoto, which obviously meant he couldn't beat someone Yamamoto couldn't beat either.
The gap between them was too big. If he wanted to live, he needed wits, not strength.
"Same side?"
Ryo shifted his gaze to Tsukishima and tilted his head with a faint smile. "By the way, I've always been curious about people like you."
His eyes sharpened slightly.
"Humans who awakened Fullbring because fragments of the Soul King's organs ended up inside their bodies. Truly fascinating research material."
Ginjo's pupils shrank. His mouth fell open in shock.
Fragments of the Soul King's organs inside them? Fullbring was born from that?
His eyes flickered uneasily as he stared at Ryo.
"Seems His Majesty the Black King knows quite a few secrets the world isn't meant to hear."
Ryo smiled, tilting his head a little.
"By 'secrets,' do you mean the part where you have the potential to become a Soul King?"
Ginjo possessed Shinigami, Hollow, human, and Soul King-induced Fullbring powers. A hybrid of multiple forces.
Compared to Ichigo, he was only missing Quincy abilities.
And that could be… conveniently "supplied" by Ichibe Hyosube of Zero Division.
So yes, in theory, Ginjo could absolutely become the next Soul King.
If he was willing to let Ichibe carve out his organs, pluck out his eyes, slice off his limbs, and reshape him into the perfect tool called "Soul King."
Ryo thought this with shameless amusement.
Meanwhile Ginjo stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.
He… could become the Soul King? How? Why had he never known?
A bitter flash of understanding hit him.
So that was why Soul Society persecuted him…
Because he had the qualifications to replace the Soul King?
He clenched his jaw, his voice heavy.
"No wonder Yamamoto considers you such a threat. Even this kind of classified information is within your grasp."
'Damn it. I really stepped into a disaster today.'
A monster like this, roaming the human world freely—Soul Society must have lost its mind.
A new, deeper resentment formed in Ginjo's heart.
'So they hunted me because I could become the Soul King. But what about this guy? Isn't he obviously more dangerous? Aren't his powers ridiculous?'
'Is it just because I'm weaker? Because I don't have enough power to scare them, I get hunted like a dog while he gets to walk around freely?'
Anger rose in him, but facing Ryo, he didn't dare act recklessly.
"Tsukishima, run! I'll hold him off!"
"Run?" A voice whispered beside Ginjo's ear. "Where exactly do you think he can run, Test Subject No. 1?"
A hand pressed down on his shoulder from behind.
'Impossible—how fast is he?!'
Panicked, Ginjo spun around and grabbed Ryo's arm, shouting, "Tsukishima! Run!"
"Oh?"
Ryo turned his head, amused, watching Tsukishima draw out a bookmark that morphed into a sword.
"Aren't you going to run, Test Subject No. 2? Your friend is working hard to buy you time."
Fear twisted Tsukishima's features. Teeth chattering, he let out a strangled cry and lunged with the sword.
Ryo lazily raised a single finger.
The blade touched his fingertip…
…and made not even a sound.
The sword tip simply sank into his skin.
Tsukishima's expression shifted instantly—from fear to cold satisfaction.
At the same time, Ginjo straightened, brushing Ryo's hand aside with a smirk.
"Idiot. You fell for it that easily."
Their panic had been fake from the beginning.
Their goal was simple: make physical contact with Ryo using Tsukishima's ability.
Now they'd succeeded.
"Tsukishima, did it activate?" Ginjo asked smugly.
"Yes. It activated," Tsukishima said with a cold smile.
"Haha! Looks like we don't need Ichigo Kurosaki's powers after all. With this idiot, we can march straight into Soul Society for revenge!"
Ginjo grinned widely.
Tsukishima's Fullbring allowed him to insert himself into someone's past and rewrite their memories.
More precisely, he created an alternate, fabricated history.
In that past, Tsukishima would become the target's closest friend, lover, even soulmate.
Right now, he was rewriting Ryo's memories, making himself Ryo's most precious person.
"Well then, let's welcome our new ally—"
Ginjo slapped his palm onto Ryo's shoulder.
A cheerful voice cut him off.
"What an interesting ability. If you used it for NTR stories, it'd be a god-tier power. A shame you weren't born in a hentai world. You'd have been amazing."
Ginjo froze mid-smile.
He whipped his head around, only to see Ryo's playful grin.
Impossible. Tsukishima's ability… didn't work?!
Before Ginjo could react, Ryo said lightly, "Test Subject No. 2, meddling with other people's pasts is dangerous."
Tsukishima tried to yank the blade back, but a flood of memories crashed into his mind.
A ruined world of broken buildings.
Despairing people.
A white-haired, white-bearded elder in pale robes embroidered with an ouroboros, staring at him with cloudy eyes.
—Mithras.
The name surfaced on its own.
Then Tsukishima suddenly pressed a finger to his own temple and poked a bloody hole into it, speaking in a gentle, ancient voice: "So my name is... Mithras."
His voice was deep, magnetic, and full of emotion—completely unlike him.
.
.
.