When Kenpachi unleashed Kidō against the Adjuchas, Gosuke Shigure turned his attention to the six Gillians standing lumbering in the distance — enormous, clumsy silhouettes swaying beneath the pale sky.
His gaze was calm, but his eyes were complicated.
The words he had spoken earlier — volunteering to take the six Gillians himself — had not been for show.
It wasn't arrogance, nor an attempt to impress the new Kenpachi.
It was simply a test.
He wanted to measure the strength of this new body.
Though he carried the memories and experience of his previous life — an era drenched in blood and chaos — he had not yet fought since his rebirth.
He was satisfied with this body's potential, but satisfaction was theory; only combat could confirm truth.
And these Gillians — slow, towering, and dumb — were perfect test subjects.
They might be Menos Grande, but they were the weakest of their kind.
For a vice-captain, fighting several Gillians alone wasn't extraordinary.
'Good enough to test with.' he thought.
*Swish*
Shigure's hand moved. The Zanpakutō at his waist slid free with a clear shing! of steel.
He didn't invoke its name. No Shikai, no release — just the pure, simple edge of a sealed blade.
A rush of spiritual power surged from his arm, flooding into the weapon.
The spiritual energy within his body far outclassed that of the surrounding atmosphere, creating a powerful negative pressure.
That pressure — reiatsu.
A skilled shinigami could weaponize this imbalance, suppressing enemies or transforming it into overwhelming offense.
When channeled through a blade, it condensed into something sharper still — Sword Pressure.
Shigure raised his arm. A faint white glow lined the edge of his Zanpakutō.
*Boom!*
A flash of blinding light tore through the air. The Sword Pressure howled forward, cleaving the nearest Gillian from mask to torso. The massive creature froze, realization dawning only as its head fell away from its shoulders. Its enormous body collapsed with a thunderous crash, blocking the path of another Gillian behind it.
The second monster didn't even react. Gillians lacked both intellect and emotion. There was no anger, no fear — just blank hunger.
Shigure's blade didn't stop moving.
He swung again, the arc of light cutting through three Gillians in succession.
The motion was deliberate. He had timed their steps, aligning them in a perfect line.
One stroke — four kills.
He exhaled softly, eyes narrowing.
'Almost perfect… if only I'd hit the fifth.'
A faint sigh left his lips. Dissatisfied with his streak, he flickered out of sight with Shunpo, reappearing beside the two remaining Gillians. Two swift strikes — shing, shing — and both colossi fell, black masks splitting apart before their bodies dissolved into vapor.
The battle was over in moments.
…
Though he hadn't even used Shikai, the results spoke for themselves.
Gosuke Shigure's movements were precise, efficient — the product of a warrior who had fought through centuries of bloodshed.
'Gillian-class hollows… too simple.' he thought. 'Not much of a test, really.'
Still, the point wasn't difficulty — it was calibration.
He wanted to feel how this body responded under pressure, how much reiatsu it could handle, how long it could sustain technique without tearing muscle or draining spirit.
And so far — it wasn't bad.
His control felt stable. His body moved as he commanded.
'This vessel has good bones.' he mused.
The previous Gosuke's physique was well-trained from years under Kenpachi Kuruyashiki. It lacked overwhelming reiatsu, yes, but its frame and reflexes were excellent.
In raw pressure, he was below most vice-captains — perhaps around the level of a seasoned seated officer.
But that was enough for now.
Among the Eleventh Division, most seated officers were chosen for combat instinct, not reiatsu reserves. For administrative reasons alone, a man like Gosuke could hold the vice-captain's rank with ease.
Still, that single slash earlier had consumed nearly half his spiritual energy.
'Hmm. That's a bit inefficient.' he noted. 'But manageable.'
He wasn't worried. Reiatsu could be increased through many means.
Some were artificial — hollowfication, hybridization, masks.
But the most reliable was the classic method: Zanpakutō release.
Ordinarily, a Shikai doubled or even tripled a shinigami's reiatsu.
Bankai — the true manifestation of one's Zanpakutō — magnified it five to tenfold.
And reaching Bankai required immense spiritual power already.
Thus, anyone capable of achieving it had already crossed the threshold of captain-level strength.
That was why the saying existed: "To possess Bankai is to be captain-worthy."
Gosuke Shigure's situation was simpler.
His predecessor had attained Shikai, but not Bankai.
Meaning, there was still vast room for growth.
And unlike the former owner of this body, the soul within it now was an ancient veteran — one who had lived, died, and killed through more wars than most shinigami could imagine.
He knew hundreds of ways to temper spirit, refine reiatsu, and push his limits.
He sheathed his blade slowly, exhaling through his nose.
*Click*
…
'So that's my current baseline.' he thought, turning to observe the true battlefield — where Kenpachi Azashiro fought.
Though Shigure was only the vice-captain, his fight had ended faster than the captain's.
Of course, that was no surprise. His opponents were mere Gillians.
Azashiro faced an Adjuchas — a predator among predators.
Still, something about the captain's battle drew his attention.
Kenpachi Azashiro wasn't using his Zanpakutō at all.
He was fighting bare-handed — Kidō against claw and fang.
Even wounded, a captain without his blade was a strange sight.
Azashiro's expression remained cold, detached. The Adjuchas roared and lunged, its jagged claws slashing arcs of black energy through the air.
Azashiro raised a single arm.
"Hadō #31 — Shakkahō!"
The crimson blast tore through the hollow's mask, scorching the sky.
But Azashiro didn't stop. He pivoted, pressing his palm forward once more.
"Hadō #63 — Raikōhō!"
*Crack!*
*Boom!*
A blinding column of lightning crashed down as if wrath from the heavens, enveloping the Adjuchas completely. The air rippled with electric fury as the creature screamed, body splitting apart under the sheer destructive force.
When the light faded, nothing remained but drifting motes of ash.
…
The silence that followed was heavy.
The battle was over.
Seven Menos Grande — six Gillians and one Adjuchas — lay annihilated on the wasteland.
Kenpachi Azashiro stood unmoving, his expression unreadable. He cast a brief glance toward the field where the Gillians had fallen — their bodies already beginning to dissolve into reishi. Within moments, they would collapse into particles and return to the earth.
He didn't bother to collect anything.
There was no point.
Instead, his gaze lingered briefly on the man who had fought beside him.
For the first time since their meeting, a faint trace of surprise flickered across Kenpachi Azashiro's eyes.
*****
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