After an entire night of hunting, Sombravida returned with a plentiful harvest.
Pheasants, hares, squirrels — all had fallen within his detection range. He had even speared two river fish near the forest's edge before dawn. For a civilian soul in Rukongai, such a yield was extraordinary.
But the true gain was not the meat.
It was the soil.
The reishi-dense soil he had excavated from the forest retained its spiritual concentration even after being removed from its original environment. That confirmed his suspicion: certain regions outside Rukongai accumulated natural spiritual flow strong enough to sustain cultivation.
However, if the soil proved to be a consumable resource that gradually lost reishi density, then repeated transport would be inefficient. In that case, direct cultivation within the forest might be more viable.
For now, experimentation came first.
He returned before sunrise and began digging a square pit in the sunlit section of the yard. After lining it with stones, he poured in the transported soil.
Watermelon would be the initial crop.
Seeds were easily obtainable from Hitsugaya's household.
"Good morning, Big Brother… haaah…"
Hinamori Momo opened the door sleepily, then froze.
Neatly arranged beside Sombravida were two pheasants, three squirrels, two hares, and two river fish — along with a bundle of forest berries.
"…Big Brother?"
"I went to the forest last night," Sombravida answered calmly. "My spiritual perception improved after yesterday's battle. I can sense small fluctuations in living reishi more clearly now."
This explanation was partially true.
His perception had sharpened.
But the refinement was the result of deliberate compression and control, not natural growth.
"B-But…" Momo was stunned.
Yesterday they had nearly died.
Today her brother had returned with enough provisions for days.
"Peach," Sombravida said without turning around, "after death, the reishi signature fades quickly. Please help process the game before it deteriorates."
"Ah! Yes!"
Her shock turned to delight.
Food meant growth.
Growth meant hope.
"And send a portion to Tōshirō and Grandma," Sombravida added. "Also, borrow watermelon seeds. We'll test this soil."
Momo nodded vigorously.
Only then did she notice the dirt caked onto his clothes.
"Big Brother… you didn't sleep?"
"I'll rest soon."
The fatigue wasn't from labor.
It was from internal conflict — the spiritual backlash from experimenting with incompatible circulation patterns.
He changed clothes inside and kept the damaged garments aside.
After Momo left for the market to exchange part of the game for clothing, Sombravida lay down.
His gaze shifted toward the half-dissipated Hollow mask fragment hidden in the room.
Because the Hollow had been destroyed through structural collapse rather than purified by a Zanpakutō, the mask's reishi cohesion persisted longer than usual in the dense spiritual environment of Soul Society.
Enough remained for experimentation.
He broke off another fragment.
Swallowed.
Immediately wrapped it in his own reiryoku.
Boom.
The internal collision erupted again — but this time he was prepared. He suppressed the chaotic Hollow reishi before it could destabilize his spiritual core.
When the turbulence subsided, he carefully examined the flow.
There it was.
A minute trace of stabilized Hollow reishi integrated into his system.
Sombravida's eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
Hollows devour Shinigami because their reiryoku circulation is structured and predictable. The chaotic nature of Hollow reishi disrupts that structure and forcibly assimilates it.
Shinigami, however, require overwhelming suppression to stabilize Hollow reishi before integration.
The Hōgyoku functions precisely because it erases the boundary between Shinigami and Hollow, smoothing that incompatibility.
Which meant—
Controlled accumulation was theoretically possible.
But dangerous.
He decided on a limit.
Hollow reishi must never exceed thirty percent of his total spiritual composition.
Beyond that threshold, instability risked partial Hollowfication.
And discovery.
The Twelfth Division, under Kurotsuchi Mayuri in the future, would certainly detect irregular spiritual composition.
He would not risk exposure prematurely.
He crushed and absorbed another fragment, then finally allowed himself to rest.
When he awoke in the late afternoon, the fatigue had fully dissipated.
His reiryoku compression trait made recovery slower but denser.
He stepped outside.
The processed meat was gone.
Momo was not home.
He changed clothes and went to Hitsugaya's house.
"I'm here."
"Call me Tōshirō," the boy muttered automatically, though politely.
"Where is Momo?"
"She went back a while ago."
Sombravida paused.
She had gone to exchange meat for clothing.
A faint unease stirred.
He excused himself and headed toward the market.
Soon, he spotted a gathering crowd.
Raised voices.
One of them unmistakably Momo's.
"…You said two sets!"
"Market price changed," a man replied mockingly. "And you only gave half a squirrel."
Sombravida's eyes darkened.
The merchant displayed a partial piece of jerky.
Momo's eyes were red with frustration.
"You ate half while I was trying on clothes!"
Laughter rippled from bystanders who dared not intervene.
The merchant possessed moderate spiritual pressure — enough to intimidate ordinary souls. Likely affiliated loosely with a minor noble household to secure trade privileges.
He released his reiryoku deliberately.
The surrounding civilians stiffened under the pressure.
Momo staggered backward, her unrefined spiritual control unable to resist.
The merchant raised his foot.
Bell.
A black blur intercepted.
A cracking sound followed.
The merchant collapsed, screaming, his lower leg twisted unnaturally.
The oppressive reiryoku vanished instantly.
Momo blinked through tears.
"…Big Brother?"
Sombravida stood in front of her.
Calm.
Cold.
"I don't care what arrangements you have with nobles," Sombravida said evenly, looking down at the writhing man. "But if you take my goods and refuse proper exchange…"
His voice dropped slightly.
"Then don't blame me for being rude."
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