March into Hueco Mundo
Dark clouds covered various parts of the Soul Society, some thin, some heavy.
Near the White Path Gate, the clouds pressed down so heavily that the dim scenery looked as though it were already evening.
Reishi surged in front of the gate, forming the shape of Zaraki Fuuya. He stretched out his hand to touch the White Gate, beginning to erode the external space beyond it.
He didn't want to give up his fusion with the Soul Society, so his body remained behind—only his consciousness merged outward.
Yulu Takuliu appeared again, laughing mockingly:
"Hehehe, the man who named himself after the sword actually ran away in such a panic. To think that a coward like you is my master—how sad."
"I merely judged there was no need to fight Aizen," Zaraki Fuuya replied flatly.
Yulu Takuliu's smile widened, like a child with candy. "That's just an excuse. You didn't have the confidence to defeat him, so you're pretending it was a tactical decision. Pathetic."
"I abandoned the emotion of fear long ago," Fuuya said without expression.
"What do you mean 'abandoned'? You just shoved all those unwanted emotions into me. But I love them."
"Shut up." Fuuya cut her off. "I need to focus on eroding Rukongai."
"Tsk." Yulu Takuliu pouted, then disappeared.
His erosion was quickly detected by the Kidō Corps.
"Captain-Commander, Zaraki Fuuya's Reiatsu has appeared outside the White Path Gate of Seireitei."
"Continue monitoring," Yamamoto Genryūsai replied, turning back to his documents without concern.
He knew where priorities lay. Zaraki Fuuya's attempt to purge Hueco Mundo wouldn't cause results overnight.
Without the ability to slay tens of thousands of Gillian-class Menos, simply killing ordinary Hollows wasn't enough to upset the balance between the human world, Hueco Mundo, and Soul Society.
The only real exception had been the Quincy, whose power to completely annihilate reishi could destabilize everything. But with the main Quincy clans long destroyed and the survivors closely watched by the Shinigami, Zaraki Fuuya would likely have no contact with them.
For now, Yamamoto ignored the matter and focused elsewhere.
Boom!
Flashes of lightning ripped across the sky. Thunder echoed through the Soul Society, and rain poured down in torrents.
At the White Path Gate, the rain was so heavy that one could not tell human from animal three steps away.
Zaraki Fuuya ignored it all, continuing to erode outward. At one point, his form dissolved into mist, then recondensed in Rukongai, just beyond the gate.
He stopped expanding his erosion there, simply absorbing some of the surrounding reishi to maintain stability. At the same time, he focused on the Hall of Imaging, attempting to pinpoint the Hollow that had infiltrated the Soul Society.
The nearest signal came from West Second District.
The Technology Development Bureau's signal to dispatch Shinigami was blocked.
Not wanting his effort to be wasted, Zaraki Fuuya rushed to West Second District. There, he saw a Garganta crack open—and a Hollow emerged.
It wore a sheep-skull mask, its body purple, limbs as thick as a tiger's, with a long tail trailing behind.
Its eyes glowed with greedy hunger for souls.
"You," Fuuya said.
The sheep-headed Hollow lunged forward, only for its speed to gradually falter. The greed in its eyes dulled into vacant submission, and it stood quietly at Fuuya's side.
The Garganta closed, then opened and closed again.
After testing several times, Zaraki Fuuya confirmed the Hollow was completely under his control.
Next, he would gather more pieces.
He looked toward a nearby village, intending to transform two hundred combat-ready souls. Then he vanished.
The sheep-headed Hollow ran toward the village but stopped on the hillside outside, waiting.
Before long, a man appeared there. Showing no fear of the Hollow, he stood calmly at its side. Soon, more people—men and women alike—gathered.
Fuuya didn't transform souls indiscriminately. He carefully selected residents with stronger spiritual power, ensuring the transformations produced warriors capable of real combat.
By dawn on July 1st, two hundred souls had been transformed. Fuuya ended the process and began leading them toward West District 10.
He didn't move at full speed. While these reconstructed souls could fight Hollows, they were still much slower than him.
They ran tirelessly, crossing mountains and valleys, arriving at West District 10 as the sun rose. There, Fuuya let them rest and replenish their strength.
Their food source? Seireitei itself.
Even at this distance, he could draw food and supplies from within Seireitei's structures instantly if he wished.
The transformed souls ate in silence.
A breeze rustled through the forest. Fuuya looked up and said:
"You're here."
"Of course. My spiritual perception is sharp," Shiraishi replied, stepping into view. His eyes swept across the reconstructed souls, frowning slightly. "Their reiatsu feels… strange."
"They're reconstructed," Fuuya explained. "Vanguards for the attack on Hueco Mundo. My Bankai strips away unnecessary emotions, removes their limitations, and enhances their physical combat ability."
Shiraishi's brow furrowed. "With us here, why would you need them?"
"Hueco Mundo is vast," Fuuya said calmly. "The two of us can't purify it alone. We need more combat strength. This is also an experiment—to see how long reconstructed souls can endure in Hueco Mundo.
"Don't waste sympathy. Rukongai residents exist to regulate balance between the realms. Now, contributing to the purification of Hollows is their greatest use."
The Zaraki family had once been among Seireitei's high-ranking nobles, famed for their martial power. But as later generations grew indulgent and weak, rival nobles plotted against them, bringing the family down until only Fuuya remained.
Though stripped of status, his aristocratic outlook never faded. To him, only the nobility were true natives of Soul Society. The souls of the dead who drifted there were mere resources—stock taken in to stabilize the three realms, to be increased or reduced at will.
"Tsk. Typical noble arrogance," Shiraishi muttered, but said nothing more.
Zaraki Fuuya's obsession with purging Hollows ran deeper than his own life, let alone others'. Changing him with a few words was impossible.
"When do we leave for Hueco Mundo?" Shiraishi asked.
"After they've recovered their strength," Fuuya replied truthfully.
The atmosphere fell silent.
The transformed souls devoured their food, then stood wordlessly.
The sheep-headed Hollow opened its black maw.
"Let's go."
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