Chapter 57: My Teammates Are Here, I'm Back in the Game

Zenjōji Arihime’s face twisted into a grimace, her massive frame trembling with rage. These Shinigami had blocked her crushing punch—a rare feat. They’ve got skill, she thought grudgingly, her eyes narrowing.

“Numbers mean nothing before me!” Arihime roared, lunging toward Kano Chiharu, her meaty hand outstretched to seize the noblewoman.

Chiharu, head of the Kano family and soon-to-be Captain of Squad 8, dodged with fluid grace, her noble training evident. She delivered a punishing kick to Arihime’s bloated midsection, her spiritual pressure amplifying the blow. The impact pierced Arihime’s boasted “steel muscles,” striking her insides. Arihime staggered, clutching her gut, cold sweat on her forehead. This woman’s ruthless!

Arihime had misjudged them, assuming their strength was like Yamabuki Haruto’s. But Chiharu’s kick had shaken her, and now Yanagi Junrei stepped forward, his Zanpakutō flashing silver. Arihime raised an arm to block, but Junrei’s blade sliced cleanly, peeling a strip of skin from her forearm. She howled, clutching the wound.

Junrei wiped his blade calmly. “Your muscles may be tough, but your skin’s weak. My sword is made for skinning.”

Arihime’s pulse quickened. Who are these Shinigami? Fear crept in.

Chiharu struck again, her Zanpakutō slashing toward Arihime’s ankle. The rogue stomped the ground, her massive body spinning mid-air, landing heavily. But Junrei was faster. His blade darted like a needle, piercing Arihime’s muscles and twisting. She roared, the pain overwhelming.

Chiharu’s blade descended from above, targeting Arihime’s shoulder. The rogue, desperate, thought, Her strength can’t surpass mine! She grabbed the blade with one hand, but Chiharu’s reiryoku bent her hand backward, the blade sinking into her shoulder. Blood gushed.

Gritting her teeth, Arihime seized the blade with her other hand and hurled Chiharu back. But Junrei’s blade pierced her neck’s muscle, stopping short of a fatal strike.

“Don’t move,” Junrei said coldly, his Zanpakutō at Arihime’s throat. “One twitch, and you’re done.”

Arihime reached for a glowing vial—a reishi healing concoction—in her robes. Before she could swallow it, a white lightning bolt from Haruto’s fingertip knocked it away. Haruto smirked, his Zanpakutō humming. “Nice try. That was perfect. I’m just too good.”

Chiharu’s blade joined Junrei’s at Arihime’s neck. “Are you still fighting?” she asked sharply.

Arihime raised her hands, defeated. “No more, no more,” she muttered.

Haruto strode up, flicking Arihime’s forehead twice, grinning. “That’s for thinking you could take us. Confess—why are you capturing souls? Honesty gets leniency; resistance gets pain.”

Arihime snorted, cheeks puffing. “You think I’ll talk because you say so? That’d be humiliating.”

Haruto’s grin turned dark. “Playing tough? Junrei, peel her reiatsu. Don’t worry about killing her—I can keep her alive. If she stays quiet, we’ll strip her spirit and do it again.”

Arihime’s sneer faded, fear taking hold. “Hold on! I didn’t say I wouldn’t talk! Give me a moment, you impatient brats!” She huffed. “I was capturing souls for experiments. My research needs high reishi density. Human souls have the richest reishi, so I used them. That’s all.”

Haruto’s eyes narrowed, gripping his Zanpakutō. “That’s a crime. Harvesting souls disrupts the balance of Soul Society, the Human World, and Hueco Mundo. In the Gotei 13’s name, I’ll end you. But first—did you kill the Shinigami stationed here?” His voice turned menacing. “Lie, and my lightning burns you.”

Arihime shook her head. “I swear, I didn’t! You’re the first Shinigami I’ve seen. The one here was gone when I arrived.”

Chiharu’s gaze was cold. “Why should we believe you?”

Arihime scoffed. “Why lie? That Shinigami wasn’t here to save you. I had you on the ropes.”

Haruto’s temper flared. “Still talking back? I’ll—!”

Junrei’s fist cracked Arihime’s jaw, sending her reeling. Chiharu’s elbow caught Haruto in the ribs, silencing him. “Enough,” she said sharply. Both grunted.

Junrei sheathed his blade. “The culprit’s caught. We’ll take her to Seireitei for Central 46’s judgment. Let’s move.”

Haruto scanned the desolate village, its silence heavy. If Arihime hadn’t killed the Shinigami, where was he? His eyes fell on a trembling boy. “You, kid. Time for Soul Society.”

The boy blinked, confused, as Haruto tapped his forehead with his Zanpakutō’s hilt. A glow enveloped him, sending his soul to Soul Society via Konsō. Haruto muttered, “Hope you land in Zaraki District. Toughen you up.” Jealousy flickered—why did some souls get a fresh start?

“Take her to Seireitei,” Haruto told his comrades. “I’ll search for the missing Shinigami. Something’s wrong here.”

Chiharu raised an eyebrow. “You sure, Haruto? You’re always getting thrashed or picking fights.”

Haruto grinned, reiryoku crackling. “The only ones who can beat me are you captains. Outside the Gotei 13’s elite, who’s my match?”

Junrei shrugged. “If the commander’s set, we’ll head back. Contact Soul Society if there’s trouble.” He pointed his blade at Arihime. “Don’t try anything. You’re facing Muken-level charges. I could cut you down, and Central 46 wouldn’t care.”

Arihime huffed, cheeks puffing, but stayed silent as Junrei and Chiharu escorted her through a Senkaimon to Soul Society.

Alone, Haruto stretched, feeling his reiryoku surge. The fight had pushed him closer to captain-level, his Zanpakutō humming. Not there yet, he thought, but close.

The village was silent, the Senkaimon closed. If the Shinigami wasn’t nearby, he was likely dead—or worse. Haruto’s instincts hinted at a larger threat. Gripping his Zanpakutō, he scanned the shadows.

“Let’s see who’s hiding,” he muttered. “They’re about to face the storm.”