Cough. Cough.
Mayuri used the fake cough to hide his embarrassment.
He was used to dealing with reasonable captains, striking bargains with them, or bullying his subordinates.
So when Shimo made his request, Mayuri instinctively tried to leverage it against him.
But he forgot one thing—
Kyōraku Shimo was not a reasonable man.
The fact that the blade hadn't come down on his head was already a blessing.
"No problem!"
Seeing Shimo's hand subtly shift as if preparing to swing again, Mayuri immediately changed his tune.
"I meant—no problem!"
Turning around, he pulled a blank sheet of paper from the workbench and scribbled on it.
Moments later, he handed it to Shimo.
"This is my letter of approval."
Then he spoke:
"There are three methods for becoming a captain."
"Given Seireitei's current situation, I assume Head Captain Yamamoto instructed you to use the second method?"
Shimo nodded.
"Exactly. Other than you, I still need to visit the Seventh and Tenth Divisions."
"Let's hope Captain Komamura and Captain Hitsugaya put up more resistance than you did."
At those words, a chill shot down Mayuri's spine.
Most people wanted the process to go smoothly.
Only Shimo would hope for the opposite.
For a moment, Mayuri felt Shimo's brain might be wired incorrectly.
But given the absolute gulf in strength between them, he didn't dare speak his mind.
Otherwise, even all the equipment in the Research Bureau wouldn't survive Shimo's next swing.
"I'll be going then, Captain Kurotsuchi."
Shimo's tone carried a hint of mockery.
"And if you continue poking around trying to study my Zanpakutō's abilities… I don't mind demonstrating them on you."
"The Flesh Bomb technique can't resist spatial severing, you know."
The moment he finished speaking, Mayuri's pupils shrank, terror flashing in his eyes.
"H–How did you know—?"
Shimo waved without turning around, already leaving the Twelfth Division.
He had zero interest in answering Mayuri's question.
This man might look like a harmless academic on the surface, but he had long since crossed countless ethical boundaries in the name of science.
The "Flesh Bomb" alone was enough for Shimo to keep his distance.
As long as Mayuri didn't provoke him, things would remain peaceful.
But if he did… Shimo would have no problem cutting him down.
If not for needing insight into enhancing his power earlier, he wouldn't have cooperated with Mayuri at all.
"Arrogant bastard."
As soon as Shimo left, Mayuri's smile instantly vanished.
Watching Shimo's back disappear into the distance, his voice dripped with venom.
Shimo ignored him entirely and headed toward the Tenth Division.
Hitsugaya Tōshirō had been able to recover from his injuries so quickly and return to work because of Shimo's healing.
In the Fourth Division, only Unohana's skill could match his.
As lieutenant of the Fourth, Shimo had always performed his duties well.
The Tenth Division barracks were surprisingly intact—one of the few places Ichigo and the Ryoka hadn't destroyed.
"Lieutenant Shimo!"
The guards standing at the door bowed with great respect.
Right now, Shimo was a celebrity throughout Seireitei.
More than ninety percent of Shinigami had heard his name.
Killing former Captain Tōsen Kaname in a single strike—that alone spread his reputation far and wide.
"I'm here to see Captain Hitsugaya."
The gate guard bowed lower.
"Please wait here. I'll report immediately!"
Inside the archives room—
Hitsugaya frowned deeply as he flipped through documents.
With the Fourth Division unable to help with psychological conditions, he could only try to find his own way to help Hinamori Momo recover.
"Captain!"
The guard's high voice came from outside.
"Fourth Division Lieutenant Kyōraku Shimo is here to see you!"
Hitsugaya froze.
"Shimo…?
Is he here about the captain appointment?"
After being beaten—twice—by Shimo, Hitsugaya fully understood the terrifying difference between their abilities.
Soon, Shimo entered the reception room, where Hitsugaya waited with his usual cold expression.
"Yo, Shiro."
Shimo greeted him like an old friend, conveniently forgetting he had punched him twice before.
"With your clever little brain, I'm sure you already know why I'm here."
Hitsugaya no longer had the energy to argue about that nickname.
He couldn't beat Shimo, so what else could he do?
"This is my approval letter."
He had prepared it in advance.
Shimo's eyes brightened as he accepted it.
"Good job, Shiro."
"You're a lot smarter than that Kurotsuchi freak."
Hitsugaya sighed.
"Actually… I have one small request."
"Go ahead."
Hitsugaya hesitated, then said:
"Could you please… stop calling me Sno—"
"Absolutely not!"
"Don't even think about it!"
"Your name is way too long. I finally found something short."
Hitsugaya muttered weakly:
"You could just call me Hitsugaya… or Tōshirō…"
But Shimo ignored him entirely, tucking the approval letter away.
"Well, mission accomplished. I'll get going."
Then he paused at the door.
"Oh, almost forgot."
"For psychological issues, you need a specialist."
"The Research Bureau is far more advanced than the Fourth Division in that area."
Hitsugaya's eyes lit up.
"Of course… Why didn't I think of that?"
"Thank you—"
He looked up—
But Shimo had already vanished.
Leaving the Tenth Division, Shimo headed straight to the Seventh.
Komamura Sajin, however, would be troublesome.
Even though Tōsen had betrayed Soul Society, he had still been Komamura's closest friend.
And Shimo had killed him with a single strike.
Asking him for approval… felt a bit cruel.
At the Seventh Division—
Komamura sat wrapped in layer after layer of bandages, exposing only his wolf head.
The fluffy fur made him look… almost cute.
Shimo shuddered and forced certain dangerous thoughts out of his mind.
He was here on business.
"Lieutenant Shimo."
Komamura's deep voice betrayed no emotion.
"What brings you here?"
Shimo straightened his posture for once.
He felt genuine sympathy for Komamura's situation.
"It's Head Captain Yamamoto's order—"
He briefly explained the captain-approval requirement.
Komamura set down his teacup after a long silence.
"I understand."
"Since the Head Captain requires it… I must take this seriously."
Shimo stiffened.
Seriously…? Don't tell me he wants to fight?
"Do not look at me like that."
Komamura declared solemnly:
"If Head Captain Yamamoto says 'yes,' then even death must be 'yes.'"
"I am absolutely not harboring resentment because of Tōsen's death."
"Please trust my character."
Shimo blinked.
Dude… you're literally refusing to meet my eyes.
"I understand."
"How would you like to test me?"
Komamura extended his huge paw-like hand.
"Arm wrestling."
"If you win, I'll give you the approval."
Shimo stared at the massive, fur-covered hand.
Whoever told me Komamura is simple and straightforward… deserves a punch.
This was not the behavior of someone with no ulterior motives.
Still, Komamura knew his own limits.
He and Tōsen had been evenly matched at best.
Shimo had killed Tōsen in one move.
He could easily kill Komamura as well.
But Komamura still had responsibilities—his justice to uphold, revenge against Aizen, and gratitude to Yamamoto.
He could not die now.
Shimo frowned at the hand on the table.
In pure physical strength—without using spiritual pressure—he wasn't sure he could win.
Komamura was not a normal Shinigami.
The wolf-tribe's raw power far surpassed human limits.
Suddenly, Shimo's eyes flashed.
He had an idea.
"All right then. Let's do it."
He gripped Komamura's hand.
The sensation of overwhelming brute strength was immediate.
Just as Komamura was about to shout the start—
"Wait."
Shimo raised a hand.
"We need a referee."
"What if you lose and refuse to admit it?"
Komamura's fur bristled.
"You question my honor?! Left Guard!"
A thunderous shout reverberated.
Moments later, Ikkaku's former comrade—Abarai Renji's friend—no, Iba Tetsuzaemon—rushed inside at high speed.
"Lieutenant Iba reporting! Captain, what are your orders?!"
Born from the Eleventh Division, Iba carried that spirit with him even now.
Shimo wasn't surprised.
"I am arm wrestling Lieutenant Shimo. You will serve as the referee."
Iba knelt by the table, sunglasses gleaming.
"Three… two… one—Begin!"
Komamura's strength exploded.
A force capable of lifting a mountain surged through their locked hands.
Shimo's eyes widened slightly in admiration.
Komamura wasn't using a single shred of spiritual pressure—only pure muscle.
But…
A professional player cannot beat someone who is cheating.
Shimo activated Spatial Suspension.
It didn't only freeze an opponent's space.
It could freeze his own.
The space behind Shimo's right hand was completely locked.
Unless Komamura could overpower Shimo's awakened-state strength, his arm was not moving.
Komamura began to sweat beneath his fur.
He pushed harder—hard enough to reopen the wounds on his arm and draw fresh blood.
But Shimo's expression remained calm, even smiling faintly.
Komamura realized with despair—
Shimo wasn't even using effort.
After ten long minutes, Komamura finally yielded.
He withdrew his blood-stained arm, eyes filled with unwillingness—but also helplessness.
At last, his deep voice rumbled:
"I… concede."
------------------------------///
Advance Chapters on Patreon!
p(a)treon(.)com/HudaLin
-Remove the parenthesis to access patreon normally
Thanks for the Support!