Rewinding time slightly.
After the Sternritter invaded, although most of the captains were immediately caught in bitter battles that dragged on into stalemates...
But...
There were always 'exceptions.'
Among them was the inheritor of the 11th Division, a madman known throughout the world by the name of Kenpachi, who had devoted his entire life to pursuing battle.
Zaraki.
He dispatched the invading Sternritter members in his division with the utmost speed and didn't bother to check on the status of his subordinates...
No, to be more precise, there was no need.
After all, there were no 'normal people' in the literal sense within the 11th Division.
Those who joined this division were either battle maniacs or people who simply wished to follow Zaraki because of his reputation.
Even now, though covered in wounds, they adhered to the belief of 'not hindering' their captain, swallowing and digesting their injuries whole.
"Is everyone alright?"
The sparse responses weren't very impressive, but there had never been any unified coordination or system of regulations anyway.
Doing whatever made him happy had always been Zaraki's fighting style and philosophy.
Heh...
A rather playful smile appeared on his face as the ferocious man lowered his eyes and turned his head toward the distance.
If that was the case, then he didn't need to linger in this place any longer.
Time to find some fun.
Placing his uneven, seemingly incomplete soul-cutting sword on his shoulder, Zaraki grinned savagely and said:
"Yachiru! Come with me for a bit?!"
Although he didn't quite understand why he paid special attention to this pink-haired little girl.
But Zaraki would unconsciously call her name, asking her to follow him to challenge opponents worthy of being cut down.
Perhaps...
Their relationship had been destined to be so peculiar yet close since that encounter during his vagrant days? Zaraki didn't care much about others' gazes, and Yachiru was the same.
Such temperament and disposition were rarely observed in 'children,' but regardless, Zaraki always felt this one suited his taste perfectly.
Usually...
Yachiru would display a happy smile, ride directly on Zaraki's neck, and eagerly urge him forward...
Almost as if she enjoyed cutting down opponents even more than him—that's how exaggerated it seemed.
But today's situation appeared different.
Yachiru didn't immediately respond to Zaraki's call. She simply stood with her back to her captain, at the edge near the division headquarters, gazing far into the distance.
Until Zaraki silently approached behind her and came to a stop.
"What's wrong, Yachiru?"
Unexplained silence made people most anxious and confused. Currently, Zaraki frowned slightly, trying to make assumptions about the situation.
"Are you feeling unwell? Or did you get injured somewhere during the sudden attack?"
Although they weren't a division specializing in medical care, their expertise in cutting people down gave them a sort of 'practice makes perfect' feel about medicine... Though counterintuitive, the 11th Division's medical standards were definitely not low.
Before Yachiru could respond, Zaraki had already stretched his neck, looking around.
"Hey! Find someone who can treat illness, quick, hurry..."
"Ken-chan..."
Yachiru's voice suddenly rang out.
Zaraki raised his eyebrows as if coming back to his senses. He turned his gaze back and looked down.
He saw the familiar pink-haired child squatting on the ground, looking up at him with concerned eyes.
Though she said nothing more.
Her gaze seemed to convey a wealth of information... Zaraki's throat involuntarily rolled once, and a subtle premonition brewed in his heart.
I don't want to hear her speak—the thought had barely emerged.
Yachiru had already spoken softly.
"Can you not go out, Ken-chan? I have a bad feeling..."
This was a request in the purest sense.
In nature, it sounded more like a plea.
Standing in a position of inferiority, Yachiru continued to speak to Zaraki.
"This crisis is different... Ken-chan will be in danger, and if that happens, I..."
"Then I'll just become stronger than that guy, won't I?"
Tilting his head slightly.
Zaraki pondered for a moment, then continued:
"It's normal to be worried, but to say such defeatist things over such trivial matters... Yachiru, this really doesn't seem like something you would do."
He raised his broad right hand, covered in calluses and scars, and gently patted her little head.
"Don't worry, trust me. After all, I am Zaraki."
In a sense, these confident words indeed gave Yachiru some reassurance. Her expression changed slightly, as if something had shifted...
But before she could speak, the person beside her had already stepped forward with a sigh, walking ahead without looking back.
"But even though I say that... this situation isn't so simple. You stay on standby here... I'll go take care of those guys."
Leaving Yachiru behind and choosing to act alone.
This in itself was another kind of statement.
—Although his words didn't show much concern, his actual actions revealed a completely different mindset.
Being insincere might have different meanings for others, but for Zaraki, he simply had genuine 'concern.'
Without waiting for Yachiru to respond, Zaraki's figure flickered and quickly disappeared from within the 11th Division headquarters.
The seated officers who were organizing and gathering the remaining forces congregated.
Led by Ikkaku and Yumichika, everyone surrounded Yachiru and began to comfort her.
"If it's the Captain, there's definitely no problem."
"After all, he's the man who bears the name of Kenpachi... at times like this, you just need to believe in him."
"Lieutenant, please focus your attention back on the division. We have many matters that need your decision."
As a lieutenant and second-in-command of a division, Yachiru should have shouldered the responsibility of directing everyone in such emergencies.
But for Yachiru, these things seemed to have no meaning at all.
It was as if Zaraki was her everything.
After gazing deeply into the distance for a moment, Yachiru decisively stood up and sprinted toward the direction where he had disappeared...
Such an abrupt change truly surprised and amused people. However, afterward, no one in the 11th Division had any intention of blaming her.
The seated officers almost spontaneously allocated their duties among themselves and began their respective actions in the shortest time possible, striving to stabilize the situation within the division.
A strange and bizarre ecosystem.
Yet it was also a true reflection of the 11th Division.
So...
Where was Zaraki headed after leaving his division and beginning his sprint?
The answer was naturally only one...
That was the enemy's 'headquarters.'
To catch a thief, first catch the king; if he could capture the enemy leader first, things would surely become much simpler!
The spiritual pressure of the strong was absolutely distinct and eye-catching. At present, in Zaraki's eyes, there were two similar 'suns' existing in the Soul Society.
One was the aura of the former Captain-Commander, Yamamoto, with whom he was extremely familiar.
Then the identity of the other was now self-evident.
To confront an enemy of this magnitude, it would be a lie to say he wasn't nervous... but compared to the anxiety in his heart, Zaraki felt more excited at this moment.
Zaraki never believed he would die peacefully, and even less did he hope to die of old age.
But what of it?
A wild dog needs no tombstone; running wild until it rots is enough.
He was the unsheathed blade of the Soul Society. Once drawn, there were only two outcomes: drinking blood or self-destruction.
His form continuously flashed forward.
A group of Quincy backs entered Zaraki's vision.
These were the low-level Sternritter members invading the Soul Society. Although they were no match for lieutenants or even seated officers...
For ordinary Soul Reapers of mediocre strength, the techniques and abilities displayed by the opponents were extremely troublesome.
The Blut Arterie activated on their body surfaces unleashed speeds far beyond physical limits, almost effortlessly overwhelming Soul Reapers of equal level.
The Blut Vene activated inside their bodies further hardened their bodies, easily gaining the upper hand in close combat and securing advantages in various aspects.
Such brutal battles occurred throughout the Soul Society.
Zaraki tried his best to ignore these individual battlefields, heading straight for his target.
But he ultimately chose to intervene.
Swinging his tattered Zanpakutō, there was no technique to speak of, yet it howled with power that demanded attention.
"Get out of my way!"
The low voice rumbled from his throat, and a crowd of Quincy was completely defeated, fleeing in disarray.
Many Soul Reapers scrambled away at this moment. Some attempted to seek help from Zaraki but were completely ignored by him.
Helping was just a 'small favor,' but it didn't mean he would escort these people to safety.
"Stand up on your own. Can you still fight?"
His gaze calmly swept over these Soul Reapers who were still in shock, as Zaraki slowly walked toward the distant place.
"Then continue fighting, don't stop, just like breathing... continue to struggle on."
Fight continuously, for the name of the Court Guard, for the legitimacy of the Soul Society.
Zaraki kept advancing, slaughtering all the Quincy in his path. Soon... his brave performance gained attention from various sides.
Until a figure slowly walked out from among them, coming to the front of the entire queue, standing firm like a sea-calming divine needle.
The figure entered his sight, forcing Zaraki to slow his pace.
He was a man who had nothing to do with being a 'small fry.'
Slicked-back yellow curly hair, upturned wide-connected eyebrows, tall and robust build, dark skin.
This guy had sharp nails, tiger-like fangs, and a monstrous face, appearing quite troublesome just by looking at him.
Their gazes met.
Zaraki saw the opponent suddenly throw his arms wide open!
The clothes on his body burst inch by inch, black hair grew wildly, covering his surface, and finally, he transformed into a ferocious creature resembling a gorilla.
Hah...
Can a person turn into such a monster?
Before he could even utter these mocking words.
The opponent heavily pounded his chest with both hands, emitting low growls one after another.
Behaviorally, it was like some beast displaying its charm, giving off a strange sense that made people laugh.
It was just like a gorilla seeking a mate—such a bizarre behavior.
Similar absurd thoughts surged in Zaraki's mind, but soon, he realized something was amiss.
This sound wasn't simply 'harassment.'
It seemed to agitate the air, and through similar vibrations, layer upon layer of 'waves' curled up and surged toward him like breakers.
"...!!!"
Zaraki had a very obvious feeling of heaviness in his head and lightness in his feet.
The feeling of body paralysis emerged from his limbs, rushing wildly through his torso, and finally bursting open in his brain.
Not good...
This sound was thorny.
Jerome, seeing Zaraki affected by his technique, couldn't help but reveal a self-satisfied smile in his heart.
The Schrift "R," symbolizing ability as Roar.
It was completely within expectation.
No one would be vigilant against such behavior, as sound-based attack methods were too rare.
And once hit...
Afterward, one could only wait to be slaughtered.
So-called special war powers were just this much. Afterward, he only needed to capture this guy and take him before His Majesty to receive a reward.
Similar thoughts condensed in his mind, and Jerome's mouth couldn't help but curl upward slightly.
As if he could already see the scene after his success, his eyes revealed a bit of anticipation...
However.
Zaraki's figure charged straight over, completely blocking his vision.
He watched as the opponent revealed a ferocious smile, reached out his right hand to grab his face. Meanwhile, his freed left hand gripped the Zanpakutō, aiming the jagged blade edge like shark teeth at his neck...
Pressing down heavily.
Tearing, ripping.
A violent feeling of suffocation surged into Jerome's heart, making his consciousness instantly become blurry.
He couldn't understand... how could someone who was just dizzy from his technique suddenly behave so strangely?
How could he recover so quickly? And in this state... he seemed completely unaffected by his ability.
Why was this?
Similar thoughts condensed in his mind, and in the next moment, Jerome's gaze fell and saw Zaraki's blood-stained cheeks.
He immediately understood.
This guy had already ruptured his own eardrums...
He was willing to use self-mutilation to escape the influence of his ability?
This madman...
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Powerstones?
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