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Staring at the brand-new lines of text, Aizen froze for a moment.
After a few seconds of hesitation, his body began to tremble uncontrollably.
Not from fear at seeing the words "Captain of Squad Zero."
But from sheer excitement. From overwhelming joy.
"I'm… not fourth?"
The quiet murmur carried a hint of disbelief, even a touch of self-doubt.
To be honest, Aizen himself hadn't expected this. He'd actually made it into the final bracket.
Compared to witnessing Ryūjin Jakka's Bankai ahead of time, the title of "Top Three Combatants in the World of the Shinigami" felt like an even bigger surprise.
"Tsk, tsk… impressive stuff. Captain Aizen, don't tell me you're actually dead last?" Ichimaru Gin clicked his tongue, equally caught off guard.
After all, he'd been undercover at Aizen's side for nearly a hundred years.
Gin believed no one in Soul Society understood that sanctimonious monster better than he did.
And he'd never underestimated Aizen. From the very beginning, Gin had pegged him as a top-five contender.
He just hadn't expected this.
Future Aizen was strong enough to stand among the top three?
If that was the case… would his revenge ever succeed?
If he couldn't kill Aizen, then wouldn't a century of scheming amount to nothing?
The thought dimmed Gin's gaze.
For the first time, the undercover plan felt hopelessly slim.
At that moment, the two men's very different reactions went unnoticed.
The subtitles lingered briefly, then slowly faded away.
What replaced them was a familiar backdrop: the space of the Royal Palace.
Unlike the first time Yhwach and his elite guards arrived here, this place had been ravaged by a brutal battle of death and rebirth.
The Royal Palace lay in ruins. Nearly half of the outer approach had collapsed. At the far end of the shattered path, Yhwach stood with his hands behind his back, his signature blood-red cloak fluttering in the wind.
His crimson eyes were fixed on the ancient figure standing in his way.
The man who blocked him and his subordinates.The man who had calmly declared he would crush Yhwach's throat.
"Ichibē Hyōsube…"
"Watching four of your comrades die and still refusing to leave this spot. Your loyalty to the Soul King is truly admirable."
The words sounded like praise, but the mockery underneath was unmistakable.
Unlike his earlier fight with the Captain-Commander, where he'd been utterly dominated from start to finish, Yhwach now looked unnervingly calm.
He knew exactly who stood before him.
The oldest being in Soul Society's history. The one who named all things.
Yet his gaze remained steady, unshaken by the ferocious aura pouring off the monk.
The contrast was so stark it instantly ignited debate across the entire world of the Shinigami.
"What's going on?"
"That fat monk's presence is terrifying. So why does Yhwach look even calmer than before? Does he really think he can beat the head of Squad Zero?"
Inside the Eleventh Division, the trio of Kenpachi, Yachiru, and Ikkaku frowned in confusion.
They couldn't figure out where Yhwach's confidence was coming from.
In the previous ranking, hadn't all his tricks and abilities been obliterated by Zanka no Tachi?
And then there was another question.
This upcoming clash of leaders.Did it happen before the Captain-Commander's fury, or after?
If it was before, how did Yhwach sneak past Yamamoto's senses and ascend to the Royal Palace, a place guarded by seventy-two layers of barriers?
If it was after…
Then that meant Yhwach hadn't died even after everything turned to ash.
"…!"
The three exchanged looks, each seeing the same mix of shock and exhaustion in the others' eyes.
They were brutes, after all. For the three of them to piece together this much from a single scene was already pushing their limits.
The camera shifted.
It focused on the figure opposite Yhwach.
A bald monk with thick eyebrows and a full beard. A warm smile curved his lips, yet beneath the massive dark-red prayer beads, his ancient body radiated a killing intent so overwhelming it made one's skin crawl.
Compared to the Captain-Commander's explosive rage in Bankai, this monk's bloodlust was deeper, heavier, more sinister.
Just one glance was enough to make countless viewers shudder.
"A murderous monk?"
That was the first impression Ichibē Hyōsube left on everyone.
And with it, he shattered all preconceived notions of Squad Zero.
"I've got a bad feeling about this. This monk is ridiculously strong."
"He's not even moving, but his presence rivals the Captain-Commander's Bankai."
"Could the rumors be wrong? Maybe he alone accounts for ninety percent of Squad Zero's strength."
"That would explain why he claimed fourth place so decisively."
This was Ichibē Hyōsube's first true appearance.
Yet through this silent standoff and the ferocity rolling off him, he earned instant recognition of his power.
Then, under the camera's gaze, Ichibē calmly reached behind him and grasped his massive brush.
At his feet, he painted a pitch-black line across the ground.
Ignoring Yhwach as he rose into the air and stepped onto the approach, Ichibē moved a hundred meters away and drew an identical black line, parallel to the first.
"See that, Yhwach?"
"The distance between these two lines is the farthest you'll make it. Beyond that, the you who's already been executed won't get another chance."
He turned slightly, the giant brush resting on his shoulder.
His round eyes were wide as he delivered a matter-of-fact declaration of murder, utterly at odds with his identity as a monk.
Kindness and cruelty.Two clashing emotions.
Yet within him, they merged perfectly, without the slightest sense of discord.
It was as if the moment he said it, Yhwach's death had already been decided.
"Is that so?"
"I think that distance is far too long."
"Three steps. That's all I need. Within three steps, I'll kill you."
Yhwach's expression didn't change as he stepped toward the monk.
His voice was just as calm, terrifyingly so.
As his red cloak swayed, his words sounded less like a threat and more like a statement of fact.
"Heh heh…"
"Yhwach, if you think you can do it, then go ahead and try."
In an instant, Ichibē turned.
There was no warning. No chant.
The reishi around the approach, so dense it was nearly tangible, was drained in a single moment and compressed to the extreme.
Then it transformed.
A colossal hand took shape, carrying destructive power from a realm far beyond that of ordinary Shinigami.
It crushed the air itself, driven forward by blinding white pressure, and slammed toward the camera with overwhelming force.
The sudden strike.
The suffocating sense of pressure, as if it were smashing straight into one's face.
Countless viewers felt their souls nearly leave their bodies.
And deep down, a single thought rose unbidden in everyone's mind:
"Yhwach…"
"He's not about to get absolutely destroyed again… is he?"
"..."
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