Bleach: The Strongest Shinigami

East Rukongai, 32th District.

Neat, flat houses lined both sides of the road, with occasional undulations.

As one of the front districts of Rukongai, the civilians here boasted ruddy complexions and strong bodies. Though simple, their clothes were clean and proper. Compared to the districts further back, these people lived quite comfortably.

However, fear etched the faces of passersby. They hurried along with hunched shoulders and bent bodies, frequently glancing behind them and into blind spots. The slightest rustle startled them, unconsciously quickening their pace.

An unusual sight graced the civilian residential area of the 32nd District: two young men in blue and white Shin'ō Academy uniforms strolling down the street.

"The Reishi density in the air is normal." Aizen remarked, his gaze calm and hands hanging at his sides. His voice remained nonchalant, as if describing the most ordinary thing, "The lingering smell of blood persists. The death toll should be between twelve and fourteen."

The chaotic scene on the street neither affected his thinking nor caused any misjudgment.

Upon arriving at the location Uruoi provided, he immediately assessed the situation.

"The buildings are intact, with no signs of intense fighting." He observed, his expression impassive as he peered through windows at the murder scenes within, "Analyzing from this point, the culprit's strength — What are you doing?!""

He broke off abruptly.

Aizen, usually as calm as still water, instantly lost his composure when he noticed his companion's behavior.

Akira, who accompanied him, had somehow donned shrine priest attire. Predominantly white, with black accents forming the emblem of the One-Eyed Great God on the collar and hem, it looked both eerie and sacred.

The only flaw was that this outfit hung a bit loose, slightly hindering movement.

Of course, what caused Aizen's emotional fluctuation wasn't the wardrobe change at a murder scene. It was that Akira had somehow procured a wooden table and set up incense and teacups.

"A ritual, of course." Akira glanced sideways at him, bewildered that such an intelligent person could ask such an obvious question.

Wasn't his intention clear?

Aizen felt his temples throb. Of course he knew this was a ritual. After spending so much time with this priest, how could he not understand the process?

What baffled him was the madness of performing a ritual at a murder scene. Could it really communicate with the dead and identify the culprit?

"The Sakahone Shrine is unique." Akira said with a smile, "Unlike other shrines, even those of the Ise family, our deity — the One-Eyed Great God — actually exists. As we say locally, 'Those who dedicate everything but their eyes to Him receive protection'. Just like now."

Under Aizen's astonished gaze, he snapped his fingers.

Instantly, the water in the teacup began to tremble. Ripples spread in slow circles, finally reflecting face after face.

"They've appeared." Akira smiled, "Today's unjustly dead."

Aizen frowned, his confusion deepening.

He'd always believed that beings who died in Soul Society were broken down into basic Reishi. The Shin'ō Academy textbooks even stated that death was merely a cycle.

People from the living world die and are reborn in Soul Society. The same applies to beings in Soul Society — their Reishi transforms into Kishi, reborn in the living world.

{T/N: Kishi is a name that speaks to the natural ebb and flow of life.}

But what was this scene before him? Were the deceased, broken down into Reishi, being reborn?

Countless questions swirled in his mind. As Aizen tried to resolve one with his knowledge, more would surface.

While he pondered, Akira had already dipped his finger into the teacup.

His expression slightly serious, he occasionally muttered, "Hmm", "I see", "Is that so", "What a pity", as if genuinely conversing with the deceased.

Aizen watched in amazement, gaining a new understanding of his troublesome friend.

When Akira withdrew his finger, he looked at Aizen with a grave expression.

"The culprit has been identified. We're probably no match for him. Let's report to Kaoru-sensei first. After he informs the Gotei 13, we'll leave it to the Shinigami to handle."

{T/N: For those who noticed, I am using two different ways to address their teacher. I use the surname 'Kaoru-sensei' when they are talking casually, while I use the first name 'Uruoi-sensei' in conversation with the teacher himself so that there is a greater connection and the MC can get away with his mischief.}

Aizen's pupils showed a barely noticeable fluctuation as he nodded slightly.

As they began cleaning up the altar table, preparing to leave, the Reishi density in the air suddenly shifted. A heavy Reiatsu descended, and a desperate aura erupted from behind the houses.

"Leaving?" A hoarse, overlapping voice echoed in the empty street as a figure slowly emerged from one of the houses.

Black Shihakushō, average build, an ugly face crisscrossed with scars, and a Zanpakutō slung at the waist — these details revealed the person's identity.

A rogue Shinigami.

"Two brats who haven't even graduated from the Shin'ō Academy." The Scarred Face sneered, "Since you've discovered my secret, you might as well die!"

However, what surprised him was that when the two young men saw him, not only did they show no panic, but one of them even wore a playful smile.

Just like a hunter who had caught his prey!

"I once heard a theory that perpetrators of atrocities often return to the scene of the crime to admire their handiwork." Akira said with a smile, "And you've just helped me confirm this theory."

The Scarred Face's expression froze as he immediately realized he had been tricked by the young man before him. The revival of the dead, the identity of the culprit — it was all a lie!

He had been hiding in the house earlier, clearly hearing the conversation between the two, thinking it was some new investigation method. But it turned out to be a complete deception!

In an instant, he became furious with embarrassment and roared, "Hmph! Don't think about escaping — go accompany those fools in death!"

Hearing this, Akira raised an eyebrow, asking in surprise, "Escape? Why should we escape?"

As soon as these words were spoken, the Scarred Face's heart skipped a beat.

Boom!

Violent Reiatsu was unleashed recklessly. Tangible light exploded from Akira's body, resonating with the Reishi in the air and transforming into surging currents.

The Reiatsu, too powerful to comprehend, made the Scarred Face's pupils contract, instantly suffocating him. His face flushed with blood.

"Let's try this." Akira said, a sudden idea striking him as he raised his right hand in a shooting pose.

⤫ Hadō #4: Byakurai ⥤ Pale Lightning! ⤬

As if countless birds were emitting piercing cries, dazzling white light exploded from his fingertip, transforming into a brilliant lightning bolt that traversed the empty street.

The next moment, the black figure in front was pierced through the heart, his skipped heartbeat never to recover.

Aizen wasn't very interested in such an overwhelming battle; the culprit was merely an ordinary Shinigami, after all.

He looked with some curiosity at Akira, who was posing like a gunslinger.

"Earlier, when you obtained information from the deceased, were you just tricking the culprit or could you really do it?"

Hearing this, Akira turned his head, the corners of his mouth slightly raised in a meaningful smile.

"You guess..."

⤫⤬⤫

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