"Hello? Anybody here?"
After greeting the guards at the prison entrance, the figure in a pink-patterned haori entered the First Layer of the underground prison without trouble.
But to Kyōraku Shunsui's surprise, the corridor ahead was completely empty. The air was filled with thick, oppressive, chaotic Reiatsu—like something seriously bad had just happened.
Kyōraku's expression immediately turned grave. He sifted through the tangled spiritual pressure and quickly identified the source.
Not daring to waste time, he burst forward at astonishing speed.
But when he finally reached the deepest area, what he saw was… nothing like what he expected.
The jailers were lined up shoulder to shoulder, blocking the front of a cell.
Necks craned, eyes wide, faces flushed—everyone looked wildly excited, like they were watching something forbidden.
Every now and then, pained noises came from inside.
Kyōraku rubbed his chin, thought for a moment, then walked up and tapped one of them on the shoulder.
"What are you all watching?"
"C-Captain Kyōraku…"
The jailer recognized him instantly—mainly because that signature pink haori was so eye-catching. There weren't many people in all of Seireitei who dressed like that.
"Uh… you should probably just see for yourself, sir."
Kyōraku leaned in curiously, and the "not safe for kids" scene immediately hit him in the face.
Inside the cell, an Adjuchas radiating powerful Reiatsu was raging violently, jaws open wide as it roared loud enough to shake the ears—
Trying to psych itself up.
On the other side, the boy—who looked harmless—wore a gentle smile as he rolled his shoulders and stepped forward, apparently determined to teach this vicious creature what "hope" really meant.
The next instant—
The Adjuchas' massive body blurred. Even in the cramped cell it left behind outrageous afterimages.
Not Sonído—just pure speed born of talent.
A flash of savage brutality crossed its crimson eyes. It had been pretending to be weak the whole time, waiting for the perfect moment.
A Shinigami was just a frail little thing.
If I land even one clean hit, this fight is over.
The speed-type Adjuchas almost saw freedom waving at it.
Its figure crossed the entire cell in an instant. A huge fist, like a falling hammer, crashed toward Naraku with no room to dodge.
But at the same time—
It didn't matter.
In the hair-thin gap before the punch landed, Naraku moved by instinct, raising his arms to block and taking the full force head-on.
He was nowhere near this Adjuchas in speed, but basic prediction was still possible.
After all, the opponents he'd trained against lately were all ridiculous.
If nothing else, that white-bearded bald old man's speed was so fast he couldn't even react.
But after being beaten countless times, Naraku had developed a terrifying ability: predicting where attacks would land by pure instinct.
He'd still get brutally flattened by Yamamoto, sure—but against weaker opponents, it actually worked.
Boom—
The ground sank. Spiderweb cracks spread instantly.
Only the boy remained upright, straight as a pillar holding up nearly the entire impact.
In the same breath, Naraku's fist ripped through the air again—carrying rolling heat—and slammed into the Adjuchas' chest without hesitation.
Then the sound of breaking filled the cell, clear enough for everyone outside to hear.
Bone cracking.
Under that heavy blow, the Adjuchas doubled over, its body nearly collapsing as the terrifying force shattered it. Its vision went black.
Only then did it understand why the other Adjuchas had lost so quickly.
Is this kid even a Shinigami?
Judging by how he fights, he's more Adjuchas than we are.
What kind of Shinigami tanks a Menos' full-power punch with his body and takes zero damage?
And that strength—completely beyond a Hollow.
When he beat them up earlier, did he take off the captain's white haori that he's supposedly supposed to wear first?
The speed-type Adjuchas refused to accept defeat. It forced high-speed regeneration, trying to mend the broken bones in its chest and find an opening to turn the tables—
And got beaten even harder.
Naraku kept punching while explaining what "hope" was, enthusiastically preaching his twisted logic until it was forced to "recognize its mistakes."
Heat and savagery filled the prison like an undersea volcano erupting, swallowing everything inside the cell.
To the onlookers, only two figures remained—locked in brutal combat, stirring the blood to boil.
Watching the familiar-looking boy beat an Adjuchas into paste with his bare fists, Kyōraku Shunsui fell into thought.
This scene felt oddly familiar.
Like he'd seen it somewhere before.
In a daze, Kyōraku felt like he'd been thrown back to his student days—back when the Academy headmaster was just some ordinary bald old man.
The fistwork, the rhythm, even the painful screams—everything lined up.
Right.
This kid's "hands-on teaching" looked like it had been copied straight from Old Man.
Same brute force. Same ruthless lack of sympathy.
Kyōraku let out a long sigh. Watching the one-sided brutality, he almost felt his own body ache in sympathy.
"Now I understand why Old Man sent me to fetch this kid…"
[Successfully suppressed criminal Hollow: Adjuchas. Sin Value: 777. Contribution: 50%]
[Your Reiatsu has increased. Current Reiatsu Grade: 4!]
[Your understanding of Kidō has improved. You have perfectly mastered Hadō #63: Raikōhō!]
[Your understanding of swordsmanship has improved. You have learned the secret technique: Dragon Flash!]
The moment the system screen vanished, endless inspiration surged up as if it would never stop.
At the same time, Naraku's mind emptied out, and he absorbed new understanding of Kidō and swordsmanship with shocking efficiency.
What surprised him was that he could even pull Shinigami combat techniques out of a Menos.
So maybe the extracted rewards didn't depend purely on the criminal itself?
Naraku tried thinking the way his "adopted son" did.
At the same time—
A crisp cracking sound echoed from deep within his soul. Spiritual power surged like a river through his body, continuously tempering his already powerful spirit frame.
Under the shihakushō, his "numbers" were climbing at a visible rate.
This is what real strength feels like.
Outside the cell, Kyōraku stared at the boy—who stood there like a stone monument—with suspicious disbelief.
Maybe it was his imagination, but the kid's aura seemed… even stronger than a moment ago.
Just as Naraku was enjoying the pleasant sensation of his spirit body being refined, someone tapped the railing behind him.
He turned and saw a face that was unfamiliar, yet somehow vaguely familiar.
Kyōraku grinned. "Let me introduce myself: Captain Kyōraku Shunsui of the Eighth Division. You could call me one of your senpai."
"I'm here to notify you of one thing."
"Kouhai-chan… you've got yourself in trouble."
Naraku: "?"
~~~
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