Bleach: The Strongest Shinigami

"I'm not guessing. Say it or don't." Aizen's face remained expressionless, showing no interest in playing word games.

Although Akira hadn't answered directly, based on his understanding of this guy, he was probably capable of doing it.

Gathering the Reishi of the deceased, making them reappear in this world, and then engaging in conversation — was this the power of Mimihagi? Or was it related to this priest?

Countless thoughts swirled in Aizen's mind until his attention was once again drawn by someone.

"Heh, you don't think dying settles the score, do you?"

Under his astonished gaze, Akira moved the red offering table directly in front of the Shinigami's corpse.

Incense was lit, a bell gently rung, and a teacup filled with clear water.

"In the name of Shrine Priest, Akira, I offer this tribute to the One-Eyed Great God, Mimihagi..." His fingers fluttered like butterflies, forming one strange yet sacred hand seal after another. As he chanted, he visualized the object of worship in his mind.

Aizen calmly observed, trying to understand this unique method of worship in his own way.

He released his Reiatsu, covering the entire area. At this moment, his Reikaku (Spiritual Sense) was amplified to the extreme, capturing any possible changes in the air.

Reishi flowed like water, like a gentle breeze, like moonlight...

Wait! His eyes widened slightly as he noticed something unusual.

As the ritual progressed, it seemed as if an invisible force was freezing the decomposed Reishi of the deceased in its current state, finally gathering it in the clear water of the teacup.

He tried to trace the source of this power. As he followed the faint fluctuations to their origin, he was shocked to discover that with his current Reikaku, he couldn't trace it to its end. The power was like a silk thread, continuous and unending, stretching far to the east.

Aizen narrowed his eyes slightly, looking in the direction where the power disappeared, and had a rough idea in his mind: Sakahone District, Mimihagi Shrine.

While he was trying to trace the source, Akira had already dealt with the Reishi of the rogue Shinigami.

A face filled with terror and disbelief appeared on the surface of the teacup, frantically moving about like a headless fly, trying to escape this cage-like constraint. However, no matter how it tried, it couldn't escape.

"I'm curious, what was your motive for committing such a serious crime?" Akira dipped his finger into the teacup.

In no time at all, his brow furrowed, then furrowed deeper, until his eyebrows almost joined together.

"It's utterly heartless." He casually shattered the cup, dispersing the gathered Reishi within and completely ending the Scarred Face's life force, "He killed an entire family over a verbal argument."

Aizen's eyebrows raised slightly, but he showed no surprise. In his understanding, this world was rife with evil deeds.

Such actions weren't uncommon in Soul Society's records. When people possess power that doesn't match their mental fortitude, their mentality often undergoes subtle changes.

Good or evil — it's just a matter of a single thought.

"Well, we've clarified the motive and brought the culprit to justice." Akira clapped his hands and began tidying up his tools.

From the incense to the bell, these were all rewards from Daily Check-ins. Though not particularly useful, they were high-quality compared to similar market products. Notably, these rewards could be stored in the system's exclusive space.

Of course, this was limited to inanimate objects. The wild rabbit he'd drawn a few days ago couldn't be stored, so he had to slaughter it and tearfully eat several large bowls of rice with it.

Aizen was accustomed to Akira's actions by now.

Putting incense and bells into his pocket without any visible bulge was child's play. He'd even seen Akira pull out a brand-new bed from his crotch before.

Though he couldn't fathom how he managed it, Aizen had resolved never to casually touch his things. Who knew where this lunatic might have put them before?

After retrieving the Scarred Face's Zanpakutō, they cleaned up the scene and prepared to retrace their steps.

This mission wasn't particularly challenging. Even other elite academy students could have completed it, albeit with more difficulty. The gap between ordinary Shinigami Division Members and elite academy students wasn't vast.

Of course, compared to Akira and Aizen, the difference was quite stark. Ordinary Shinigami couldn't withstand even a burst of their Reiatsu.

"Sōsuke, let's go." Akira urged, glancing at Aizen, who was still observing the surroundings, "Time waits for no one. If we hurry back, we can still catch dinner at the Academy cafeteria. Tonight, they're serving special tofu dishes!"

Aizen glanced sideways at him, said nothing, and turned to follow.

This guy couldn't remember his class schedule or theoretical knowledge, but he had the Academy cafeteria's weekly menu memorized crystal clear.

Perhaps this was the true meaning of talent.

"I'm not sure if it's just my imagination." Aizen mused as they walked side by side down the empty street, "But this mission doesn't seem as straightforward as it appears."

Akira waved his hand, slapping his shoulder.

"The Rukongai isn't full of intrigue. Commoner deaths are commonplace here. Only the first ten districts offer any semblance of stability." At this, his lips curled into a slight smile, "And that's what the commoners aspire to most..."

Aizen nodded, understanding. Like Akira, he had grown up in the Rukongai and knew its "rules" well. Compared to the nobles' quarters, the outer districts of Rukongai were practically hell.

As the two figures vanished at the street's end, a faint glow materialized on the empty ground. Where there should have been nothing, a blurry, hazy scene appeared.

It was as if a layer of white mosaic had been painted over the scene...

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The pair moved at a brisk pace — even faster than when they had arrived.

Aizen was puzzled but assumed his companion was simply eager to return for a meal.

Upon leaving the 32nd District, Akira suddenly slowed. He clenched his fists, glancing apprehensively at Aizen.

"You must have noticed it too, right?"

"The abnormality in the Reishi?" Aizen furrowed his brow, perplexed by his unfamiliar expression.

Akira shook his head, looking back toward the 32nd District. He muttered:

"No. It's the scent of death..."

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