Coming back to the six people in front of him, setting aside whether bullying the few with the many damaged their reputation, just the fact that they were so easily beaten by Iori was already enough to make them lose all value for cultivation in the eyes of their elders.
Traditional Japanese families could be very cruel. If someone needed to be abandoned, then they would be abandoned. They would rather adopt an heir or bring in a son-in-law than let a useless person inherit the family business.
What's more, Bleach places exceptional emphasis on force, so things were even more naked and straightforward in this regard.
"I'm actually doing this out of kindness, you know. I want to help you cover up this ugly incident." Iori's smile was as gentle as a spring breeze.
The leader hesitated for a moment. "You're willing to keep this quiet?"
"No problem. I just need you to pay a tiny little price."
"…Heh! I see."
After thinking it over, the masked man believed he had understood Iori's meaning and sneered disdainfully. "So that's how it is. Figures you're from Rukongai. Go on, how much do you want?"
"Money?"
Iori tilted his head. "True, I'm not someone who treats money like dirt. But the amount that could really move me… you can't afford it."
What a joke. His "literary works" circulated throughout Seireitei. Every month, just the manuscript fees he received from Kyoraku Shunsui alone were quite considerable. If it weren't for raising a certain gold-devouring, science-crazed maniac… Iori would've been living like an immortal long ago.
"Not money?" The masked leader asked in confusion. "Then what do you want?"
"Don't be nervous. I just need you to stay here obediently."
"…Huh?"
"After all, it's only in the higher grades that there are real combat tests against Hollows. For a second-year student like me, forget real combat, even the chance to use a real sword doesn't exist. If I want to go further, this alone is far from enough."
Iori waved the wooden sword, producing a short, sharp sound through the air, and smiled. "Because hitting wooden posts and hitting a human body feel completely different, you know~"
"…You bastard!"
The masked man finally understood. His eyes filled with bloodshot veins, and unseen by Iori, the veins on his forehead bulged violently.
"You're actually treating us like wooden posts!"
"You can fight back."
Iori didn't care. These masked people weren't particularly skilled, but just as he had said earlier, no matter how many times you swing a sword, cutting air or striking dead objects could never compare to striking a living, breathing human.
Just from this single fight, Iori felt that his attribute values had risen a bit again, actually more effective than over an hour of empty swings earlier.
"Do you really know what you're doing?!" The masked man who had been so arrogant earlier was now trembling even in his voice.
"If something like this gets out, how will those instructors look at, ugh!"
"So you've finally realized it. In fact, it's you who need to help me keep this secret. After all, for you, it would be far too humiliating."
Seeing his state, Iori sighed. "Can you show a bit of courage? As Shinigami, when you decided to gang up on me, you should've had the corresponding resolve."
"Guh…"
The masked man spoke with difficulty. "C-can… can we reconcile?"
Chi!
Iori laughed.
"Please don't be afraid. I'm not some demon. I won't leave you with any wounds that are hard to heal."
Moonlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the boy's face. His smile was warm and gentle.
"After all, precisely controlling one's strength is also an important form of training. And if someone gets injured, I can conveniently practice healing kido as well."
"I promise I'll make full use of everyone's bodies. There won't be the slightest bit of waste."
"Yamero! Don't come over here!"
"Stand firm, grip your weapon, and attack! If you're going to be targets, at least do your job properly, seniors."
Iori stepped forward. "This is where your 'value' lies."
Smack!
Smack!
Smack!
Ding!
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[CG Collected]
[Cruel Smile]
[Category: Art-Style CG]
[Level: —]
[Quality: —]
[Reward List:]
[Art-Style Value +2]
[Note: Current cumulative Art-Style Value "33"]
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'What, this adds art-style value too?! Talk about stumbling into success by accident…'
Iori froze for a moment, then fought with even greater enjoyment~
———
"What a terrifying little brat!"
On a rooftop somewhere, a short figure wearing a captain's haori over a Shinigami uniform sat atop the tiles. A sake bottle and small cup were placed beside her.
Her face was flushed as she looked toward the dojo. Even though it was hard to see clearly from this distance, she seemed to know exactly what was happening.
Judging by appearance alone, people might believe she was under twenty. Short and slender, with a youthful face, long purple hair tied into twin ponytails, a black eyepatch over her left eye, and a vulgar sitting posture and way of speaking,
She looked every bit like a delinquent girl~
But anyone who saw the white haori on her body would immediately put away any thoughts of looking down on her. That was something only captains of the Gotei Thirteen were qualified to wear, a symbol of strength and achievement.
"Still, he suits my tastes. The recent squad members are all such good little kids. It's rare to see someone this interesting~"
"Youth is great. It really makes me think back to the old days~"
"But the old geezers are either dead or locked up, and that Yachiru girl is smiling all day long, makes me sick. Life's getting more and more boring…"
"Hm? The texture of this spiritual pressure… is it my imagination? Did this kid get a bit stronger…? No, no, even so it shouldn't be this obvious."
The eyepatch girl lifted the sake bottle and gave it a shake, clearly puzzled.
"There's still this much left… did my tolerance get worse?"
———
"Huff~"
After working up a good sweat and using up most of his spiritual pressure, Iori got dressed and walked out of the dojo feeling refreshed in both body and mind. Several sprawled figures flashed past behind him.
It was already past midnight. Iori glanced at the high-hanging moon in the sky. Just as he was about to head back to the dorms for a peaceful night's sleep, a voice suddenly called out to him.
"Hey, kid, want to come up and have a couple of drinks?~"
Following the voice, Iori saw a dim figure silhouetted against the moonlight, sitting boldly on the rooftop opposite him. The person was holding something reflective in their hand, which looked like a wine cup.
'So close… and I didn't notice anything earlier?'
"Hm? Didn't hear me?"
When she didn't get a response, the person stood up with the cup and bottle...
Whoosh!
Iori's shoulder suddenly sank, and then a body reeking of alcohol leaned over, openly slinging an arm around the boy's neck. With a wicked grin, she said to him, "Don't tell me you're not of age yet? But that's fine. This is the Soul Society, souls don't need to follow so many rules. Come on, take a whiff. This is top-quality sake~"
As she spoke, she poured the cup about three-quarters full and held it under Iori's nose.
'So fast!'
A chill ran through Iori's heart. He forcibly restrained himself from making a move. This level of shunpo was already beyond what he could handle. If they actually fought, he would lose miserably.
Even Yuki's shunpo probably couldn't compare to this person's… no, they weren't even on the same level.
Only now did he see the other party clearly, it was a young woman wearing an eyepatch.
She looked like a young girl on the surface, but judging from her words and actions… she was most likely another of the Soul Society's specialty products. After all, a soul's appearance had nothing to do with their real age.
'This hair color, eyepatch, captain's haori… could it be… Saito Furofushi, one of the first-generation captains?'
Recognizing her identity, Iori was extremely shocked, but his mind calmed down instead. At least he didn't have to worry about being assassinated. Given Saito's seniority and status, it was impossible for her to have anything to do with the bunch from the dojo.
One had to know, this was a veteran powerhouse from the same era as Unohana Retsu, someone who had resisted the Quincy invasion a thousand years ago (strictly speaking, eight hundred) and had personally seen Yhwach.
Actually, Iori didn't know that much about Saito Furofushi either. In his previous life, he could count as a Bleach fan, but not a hardcore one. He'd simply watched the anime and the first half of the "Thousand-Year Blood War." He wasn't very clear on many hidden details.
And Saito herself never appeared in the main anime story. She only had a few seconds of screen time as a figure in flashbacks. About her, Iori only knew that she was one of the first-generation captains… and that she seemed to be a lunatic.
Or rather, the entire first-generation Gotei Thirteen were lunatics.
Thinking of this, another doubt arose in Iori's mind.
'Something's off! Saito should've been the first-generation Sixth Division captain, but the current Sixth Division belongs to the Kuchiki family!'
And… Iori had been here for several years already, yet he'd never heard of any captain with the surname Saito. It couldn't be a transfer either.
This woman had a problem.
Still… after all, she'd been a captain for hundreds of years. She probably wouldn't just draw her sword and start chopping people up at random, right?
"Huh? Are you stupid, kid? I'm talking to you here~"
Saito poked Iori's cheek in displeasure. "What, do you dislike drinking with me because you think I'm an old hag?"
"Tch~ you've got no eye for quality. Don't look at me like this, back in the day, I was quite the catch. The people chasing after me could line up from the Hakudo Gate all the way to the Eightieth District of Rukongai!"
"Or is it… seeing this haori scared you so much you can't even speak?"
"No, I'm just too shocked to say anything."
Iori smiled. "I really don't know what virtue I possess to be fortunate enough to drink together with such a beautiful lady."
"Hehehe~ sly~ ha!"
Saito bent over laughing. "But I like it! Keep it up."
"Let me tell you, girls know perfectly well when it's sweet talk. They might protest a bit verbally, but deep down they'll still be happy, you know~"
"Good kid. Follow me!"
Before her laughter had even stopped, Saito let go of Iori. Without any visible movement, she blinked and was already back on the rooftop. Iori couldn't see how she moved at all, and his heart grew even more cautious.
Still, being able to get acquainted with such a powerhouse also made him slightly excited. Not daring to be careless, he immediately used shunpo as well and arrived on the rooftop.
Crack!
A roof tile slid a couple of inches under Iori's foot.
Hearing the sound, Saito curled her lips. Before Iori could say anything, she vanished again, almost simultaneously appearing on another rooftop fifty meters away.
'So fast… what's she trying to do? Whatever!'
Iori's eyes sharpened. Spiritual pressure surged under his feet again, and in a flash, he arrived at the same rooftop. Looking up, he saw that Saito had already left once more.
He was stubborn to a fault. Unable to figure out what game this woman was playing, he simply stopped thinking about it and followed Saito step by step with shunpo. Before long, they left the Shin'o Academy behind.
"Oh? You can actually keep up. I'm suppressing my speed, but this should still count as vice-captain level. Judging by his uniform, he's just a lower-grade student… his future is limitless."
Saito slowly increased her speed, making it harder and harder for Iori to keep up, though he could still barely manage.
Gradually, Iori's shunpo technique began to take on a hint of "smoothness." Even though he was exhausted, it felt more natural and fluid to use.
This surprised Saito even more.
She had seen talented people before, but those with adaptability and growth speed like Iori's were rare. Usually, only those who hovered on the edge of life and death during wartime could burst out with similar potential. But a Shinigami growing up in a time of peace…
"This is bad. If this keeps up, my spiritual pressure won't hold out!"
Iori frowned slightly, feeling his strength waning. But looking at Saito still leading ahead, a sense of competitiveness rose within him. He mobilized the rest of his spiritual pressure and continued using shunpo.
However, in order to conserve spiritual pressure, he became even more meticulous than before, properly reducing consumption, focusing his mind, and no longer thinking about anything else, placing all his attention on how to use spiritual pressure more efficiently.
At that exact moment, a sudden inspiration struck the boy. In a daze, he felt his body become much lighter. When he moved to a new position again, there wasn't the slightest sound beneath his feet, as if a gust of wind had brushed past. Even the fragile roof tiles didn't tremble at all.