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A single black blot.
It marked a wound.
On Lille Barro's body, those pitch-black stains were everywhere, packed so densely that not a single inch was spared. He looked like a terminal patient riddled with disease, someone on the brink of sudden death.
When this horrifying sight spread through the broadcast footage, it instantly set off a storm of outrage across the world of the dead.
Second Division
The camera had barely locked onto Lille Barro's figure when Omaeda, who had been holding his breath and watching with extreme caution, nearly leapt out of his skin.
"What the hell! A ghost! What kind of horror movie is this?!"
Terrified out of his mind, his three-hundred-plus-pound body somehow shot backward like a spring. Just as he was about to slam headfirst into a wooden desk, his backside caught a solid kick from Soi Fon.
Bang!
She showed absolutely no mercy.
Kicking Omaeda away like a balloon, she left a clear shoe print on his rear and shot him a glare full of disgust.
"Omaeda!"
"You're a vice-captain, for crying out loud. That level of courage is an embarrassment to the Second Division!"
"C-Captain, I'm really sorry. I seriously almost peed myself just now…"
Even after scrambling back to his feet, covered in dust and humiliation, Omaeda still didn't dare look at the screen again. He shrank into himself, tiptoeing and curling up like a frightened animal, a pitiful sight that was almost funny.
"Hmph."
Soi Fon ignored his excuse and rolled her eyes before turning serious.
"But… I can't deny it. I never imagined Captain Kyōraku's Bankai would be this terrifying."
As she spoke, her expression grew strange, a deep sense of unease creeping in.
Bleeding. Wounds. Terminal illness. Being eaten away, crying and confessing in despair.
Damn it.
Every single cruel element was packed in there.
Just how twisted did someone's heart have to be to awaken such a brutal power?
And besides…
Kyōraku Shunsui was definitely a flirt, carefree and unrestrained.
He spent plenty of time drinking in taverns, embracing courtesans and singing through the nights.
But still!
Even if that hardly counted as "wholesome," it didn't exactly scream "vengeful psychopath," did it?
So why was his Bankai this insane?!
Just thinking about it made Soi Fon shiver.
From the bottom of her heart, she muttered, "You really can't judge people by their looks. Never, ever."
Beside her, noticing the odd look on her face, Omaeda cautiously offered a suggestion.
"Captain… maybe we should keep our distance from Captain Kyōraku in the future?"
"I mean, the Second Division has always been about positive energy. Maybe we shouldn't hang around people like that too much."
"…That might not be a bad idea."
Soi Fon nodded slightly.
For once, she didn't scold Omaeda.
He was right.
From now on, it would be best to keep a safe distance from Kyōraku Shunsui.
She was a young woman in her prime, an ice-cold beauty.
She had no desire to get cursed from behind for no reason at all.
Elsewhere, the Twelfth Division Barracks, Research and Development Institute
"Ugh…"
"What even is that? That's disgusting!"
"This reminds me of that time a lab mouse died during one of our drug tests!"
…
Compared to the Second Division, things here were no better. The room echoed with retching and complaints.
Even the scientists of the Research and Development Institute, who spent their lives conducting biological experiments, could barely stomach Lille Barro's condition.
That alone showed how inhuman the second act of Katen Kyōkotsu's play, the Bedding of Shame, truly was.
"Captain, what do you think about this battle?" Akon asked, suppressing his nausea as he stared intently at the footage, trying to catch any useful detail from Lille Barro.
"Compared to Kyōraku Shunsui's Bankai, I'm more curious about that Quincy's current form."
Unlike everyone else, Mayuri Kurotsuchi had kept his attention locked on Lille Barro from beginning to end. A fascinated smile curved his lips.
For a long time now, he had been deeply interested in the nearly extinct race known as the Quincy.
Because of that, Mayuri had targeted the Ishida family more than once, hoping to pry out every secret related to pure-blooded Quincies.
So from the moment the footage cut to the Silver Palace, his mind had been working at full speed, analyzing every scrap of data on Lille Barro.
His form.
His abilities.
His habits.
His combat style.
Everything.
"Captain, did you find something new?" Akon asked excitedly.
He knew Mayuri well. Whenever that pleased smile appeared, it meant a discovery had been made.
"Hm… not exactly. It's more of a personal hypothesis."
Mayuri raised his pinky, its long nail gleaming, and pinched his chin as he organized his thoughts.
"Ransōtengai…"
"Or to put it another way, the Quincy's ultimate form. The greatest power any Quincy can possibly control, without exception."
He spoke of Quincy abilities with effortless familiarity, launching into an explanation.
"However…"
"By observing this half-human, half-monster pure-blood Quincy, I've noticed that his current state doesn't match either of those forms. It seems to be an entirely new ability."
By the end, Mayuri's eyes were shining, excitement flickering within them like he had just stumbled upon a groundbreaking research breakthrough.
"A new ability?" Akon clicked his tongue in confusion. "But the remaining Quincy families in the human world are barely holding on. Their techniques haven't evolved in decades, right?"
"Who said anything about the human world's Quincies?"
Mayuri's eyes rolled as he let out a sinister grin. "The Sternritter and those ancient Quincy families clearly follow completely different ideologies."
"As for that ability I mentioned…"
"Considering how the two pure-blood Quincies we've seen on screen are obsessively fixated on the word 'holy,' we might as well call this form…"
"Vollständig."
At the same time
As the entire world reeled from shock, the battle between Kyōraku Shunsui and Lille Barro in the true World City had reached its climax.
"Cough…!"
High in the air, Lille Barro spat blood. His eyes bulged as his condition deteriorated to the brink.
Seizing this opening, Kyōraku showed not the slightest hint of mercy and swung his Zanpakutō once more.
"Pure-blood Quincy…"
"It's about time. You can't speak anymore, but I suggest you welcome the most gorgeous third act with a repentant heart."
Kyōraku's voice seemed to sink into the depths of the sea itself.
As the final syllable faded, the camera began to rise, pulling back until it looked down on the battlefield from above.
Then—
Gurgle…
Gurgle…
Gurgle…
Countless bubbles appeared out of nowhere.
In an instant, the black pines that filled the space vanished completely.
In their place spread a deep, abyssal ocean, dark and bottomless.
The sudden shift was jarring, yet strangely natural, as if the two of them had been submerged in this deep sea since the very beginning of the fight, only now realizing it.
"This… what kind of ability is this…?"
Lille Barro forced out the words, coughing up a mouthful of blood as if it drained the last of his strength.
But blood born of sin could not mix with water.
It dispersed at once, swallowed by the dark sea and gone without a trace.
"The third act, Dan Gyōen."
Kyōraku spread his arms, holding Katen Kyōkotsu's twin blades at his sides.
Calm and confident, his captain's haori swayed rhythmically in the thick seawater, as if the crushing pressure and suffocating depths meant nothing to him.
"Judging by your eyes, you still don't understand. Just like the first two acts."
Taking in Lille Barro's miserable state, Kyōraku's gaze was cold as he spoke.
"Those who carry shame will sink together into the deep sea, until one of us runs out of spiritual pressure and suffocates to death."
"That is the meaning of Dan Gyōen."
"It also has a simpler name."
"The Abyss of Suffocation."
The Human World
Urahara's Shop.
Staring blankly at the footage, Urahara Kisuke, Kurosaki Isshin, and Tessai all broke into cold sweats.
"Using up his own spiritual pressure just to earn the right to breathe and float? Another self-destructive ability?" Urahara muttered, wiping his brow. "Katen Kyōkotsu's Bankai just keeps getting stranger."
This technique, the Abyss of Suffocation, was a pure contest of spiritual pressure.
Whoever had more would last longer.
The loser would not only suffocate to death, but after losing all spiritual power, sink forever into the deep sea.
From Urahara's perspective, using this ability was the act of a complete madman, a gamble with one's life.
"Only Kyōraku Shunsui could pull something like this off," Isshin said with a wry smile. "Anyone else would be dead in minutes."
Back when he was still known as Shiba Isshin and hadn't left Soul Society, he used to drink with Kyōraku after captain meetings whenever the mood struck.
Over time, they had grown quite close.
Isshin thought he understood Kyōraku pretty well.
Now he realized how naive that was.
On the surface, Kyōraku looked lazy, frivolous, always cutting corners and even pretending to be dead in battle whenever he could.
But witnessing the three acts of Katen Kyōkotsu unfold made one thing painfully clear.
Kyōraku Shunsui was someone who would stake his life without hesitation in a fight.
"Philosophy aside," Urahara said, "that pure-blood Quincy is barely hanging on. It's about time for the finishing blow, right?"
From start to finish, Kyōraku's Bankai had been absurdly powerful.
The unfair, rule-based nature of his abilities and his immense spiritual pressure gave him what it took to solo a so-called "god's messenger."
Sure enough—
The moment Urahara finished speaking, Kyōraku moved.
"The cruelty of a woman's love is something men rarely understand…"
"Do you see those white threads drifting through the deep sea? They symbolize every ugly, unbearable separation."
As he spoke, to everyone's shock, Kyōraku reversed his grip and sheathed both Zanpakutō.
Then he raised his hand, pinching his fingers together.
With his fingertips, he drew in the white threads floating in the depths.
And then, in one decisive motion, he slashed across Lille Barro's throat.
"Pure-blood Quincy, sink into this deep sea with your final regrets."
"This is the final curtain in Katen Kyōkotsu's play."
"The Scissors of Severed Threads."
"Blood staining the throat."
"..."
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