Once Szayelaporro pieced together the whole puzzle, he returned to Las Noches.
Only then did Baraggan learn the true name of these Shinigami invaders."
Perched on his high throne, Baraggan's skeletal face betrayed no human emotion, only a faintly hoarse voice hinting at his mood.
"So… the ones slaughtering Hollows across Hueco Mundo lately are this new Soul Society group called the Gotei 13?"
"Precisely, Lord Baraggan," Szayelaporro replied, his voice carrying its usual theatrical flair, a smile playing on his lips. "But, judging by their words, this isn't just about a new or old organization."
"If what they say is true… this Gotei 13 has likely unified all of Soul Society."
"And it boasts at least thirteen fighters on par with Vasto Lordes."
"Maybe… even stronger."
Even a madman like Szayelaporro couldn't hide a flicker of wariness in his eyes when broaching the topic of unifying Soul Society.
Even thinking with the mask on his glans, he knew the sheer might required to dominate a strength-driven world like this.
He'd clashed with those self-proclaimed captains himself and knew they weren't just talk; each wielded real, undeniable power. The few who'd shown up in Hueco Mundo had already thrown everything into chaos.
Imagine if Soul Society unleashed its full force; what a devastating blow that'd be to Las Noches.
Or even…
Szayelaporro stole a glance at Baraggan, deep in thought on his throne.
How would the one who unified Soul Society stack up against Baraggan?
The thought alone curled his lips into a crazed grin.
What a fascinating world.
"Unified… huh?"
As a king, Baraggan harbored ambitions of ruling all of Hueco Mundo.
But Hollows were beasts.
Hearing that Soul Society, Hueco Mundo's counterpart, had a true ruler stirred complex emotions in Baraggan's heart.
Still, he wasn't so far gone as to miss the schemes of his underlings.
He fixed Szayelaporro with a calm stare. "So, that's your excuse for failing?"
"Not at all, Lord Baraggan."
"On the contrary, I've devised a strategy to kill them all."
"Even for Soul Society, losing four Vasto Lorde-level fighters would be a crippling blow, no?"
Szayelaporro's smile widened, like a puppeteer watching prey step into a trap, a feeling he adored, this intellectual superiority, no matter how many times he experienced it.
"But this plan requires your involvement."
"Oh?" Baraggan's interest piqued, a deep glint flickering in his skeletal sockets. "Let's hear it, then."
"Yes."
…
Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!
At almost the same moment, Makoto and Saitō's Automated Task Processors blared, their mirror-like screens flashing multiple red dots, grating on their nerves.
Harribel, coiled on the nearby sand, perked up like a cat hearing a dinner bell, her gaze turning expectantly to the pair.
These past few dozen days were likely the most peaceful and fulfilling of her existence as a Hollow.
But Makoto and Saitō looked annoyed, frowning at the screens.
"More Adjuchas?"
"Strange."
"Haven't the alerts been a bit too frequent lately?"
Saitō wasn't just whining, it wasn't laziness. The sheer number of alerts these past few days was absurd, three to four daily, almost unnatural.
Hueco Mundo's vast emptiness dwarfed even Soul Society.
Their journey offered only monotonous desert and withered branches, each trip spanning dozens or hundreds of kilometers, eating up most of their day.
Killing Hollows, though? That was easy, one slash per arrival.
After so long, even Saitō, a battle junkie, was starting to feel sick of it.
It was just… so boring!
"Be careful."
"Something's off."
Makoto studied the red and green dots on the screen, his brow creasing.
He'd noticed not only were the Hollows appearing far off, but the expedition's forces were spread dangerously thin.
If something went wrong, reinforcements might not arrive in time, leaving squads to be wiped out by ambushing Hollows.
Still…
Makoto pictured Kinroku's usual cold, stern face and shook his head slowly.
This was probably part of Kinroku's strategy.
Rather than sacrifice the mission's efficiency, he'd have the Shinigami take risks.
The founding captains from that era, every one of them, had a ruthless, decisive streak.
Saitō seemed to sense it too, her brow furrowing.
When it came to fighting, this usually dim-witted girl's instincts sharpened uncannily.
But at Makoto's caution, she snorted dismissively. "You're the one who needs to be careful."
"Don't hold me back!"
[How about I lick your feet, then?]
"Huh?" Saitō spun around.
Makoto kept a straight face, deadpan. "What?"
"I didn't say anything."
Saitō sized him up, then huffed lightly.
She'd let him off… for today.
Not because she thought he'd actually stick out a snake tongue to lick!
...
When Makoto and Saitō reached the signal's location at top speed, they found a smaller-than-average Adjuchas chasing a squad of the expedition force with terrifying swiftness.
The squad, mostly regular Shinigami with a leader only at the fifth or sixth seat level, was crumbling before this Adjuchas.
Fighting while fleeing, their standard fifteen-man team had dwindled to just six survivors.
Each bore wounds.
Until Makoto and Saitō's figures appeared abruptly before them.
The lead Shinigami's eyes widened, his face breaking into uncontainable joy as he roared, "It's Captain Saitō and Vice-Captain Makoto!"
"Counterattack!"
"Don't let that bastard escape!"
In an instant, the Shinigami, who moments ago fled like beaten dogs, surged with newfound vigor.
The deaths of their teammates and the terror of the chase fueled an unprecedented ferocity. Driven by raw hatred and fury, they turned and charged the Adjuchas with near-suicidal resolve.
Just as higher-tier Hollows in Hueco Mundo naturally commanded lesser ones, Soul Society had its own unspoken hierarchy.
In this world where one could be an army, a single powerhouse could lend a group unimaginable morale.
Like Yamamoto to the Gotei 13.
Or Makoto to these routing Shinigami.
The wolf-like Adjuchas, toying with its prey from behind, shuddered the moment it sensed two massive Reiatsu signatures, turning to flee in the opposite direction.
But Makoto's speed far exceeded its limits.
Boom!
Air churned in the sky.
A straight vacuum tunnel ripped open.
The pale desert shattered with a thunderous roar, gouged into a deep trench, kicking up a near-instant sandstorm.
"Ikkotsu!"
Striking first despite moving last.
Makoto's foot slammed into the wolf Adjuchas's midsection.
Its massive body, huge compared to a Shinigami, cartwheeled through the air, a deep footprint seared into its Hierro, the sharp crack of breaking bones echoing as it folded in half.
Giving it no chance to react, Makoto's Ikkotsu smashed its mask, caving the wolf's skull inward.
The surrounding Shinigami gaped at the scene.
They knew Makoto's strength teetered on captain-level, but seeing this Adjuchas, which had hunted them and killed over half their squad fall in a single exchange left them speechless with awe.
This was the gap between strong and weak.
It struck a somber chord.
But Makoto didn't notice their reactions, casually hefting the massive corpse and tossing it aside.
Harribel leaped from the sand, her claws seizing the wolf Adjuchas and tearing it in two with ease.
Ending its brief life.
As Harribel began to feed, Makoto turned, cracking his neck.
Since forcibly using Kotsukudaki last time, he'd noticed his ability to cloak his body in "will" had grown stronger.
Fists, elbows, knees, feet, it all felt effortless now.
In a way, he'd made it his own.
Meanwhile, Saitō was questioning the surviving Shinigami about their squad number, mission area, and names.
"…What? More than one?"
"Yes, Captain Saitō!" The lead Shinigami said hurriedly. "We were three squads on a joint mission to take down a Gillian."
"But after killing it, a dozen Adjuchas appeared out of nowhere."
"And… and they clearly had a plan, splitting us up and herding us toward Areas 2, 19, and 30."
"By the end, only this one chased us. The others… we don't know where they went."
At this, both Saitō and Makoto's pupils constricted.
Those three areas were the farthest from the base, each in a different direction.
They knew what this meant, the battle lines were being stretched.
Worse, multiple mission zones would be left defenseless to handle these sudden Adjuchas raids.
And with so many Adjuchas moving at once, how could there not be a Vasto Lorde pulling the strings?
Coupled with the recent spike in Adjuchas alerts, the pieces Makoto couldn't connect before clicked into place.
These past days, they'd been using Adjuchas to probe the expedition's range and combat zones!
Was this Las Noches's doing again?
What were they planning?
Normally, those survival-obsessed Hollows would avoid reckless moves after sensing the expedition's strength…
"Makoto!"
As he mulled it over, Saitō's shout snapped him back.
His Automated Task Processor flickered, its signals shifting.
The once-empty screen now bloomed with a dozen scattered red alert dots.
One in Area 19 glowed especially large and vivid.
A Vasto Lorde's mark.
These bastards had somehow masked their Reiatsu before!
Worse, that area was crawling with low-ranking expedition soldiers.
A blatant trap?
Seeing the screen's subtle changes, Makoto's mind raced.
But glancing at Saitō, who was watching him, he changed his words.
"Split up!"
He decided instantly. "Saitō, can you handle the Vasto Lorde?"
"Talk about stating the obvious," Saitō grinned, unfazed. "You better not die to some Adjuchas."
"Right, right."
Saitō, used to following his calls by now, nodded and bolted straight for Area 19's Vasto Lorde.
Once she was gone, Makoto turned the other way.
His expression darkened noticeably.
Was this side the trap?
Or both?
Harribel glanced between them, then followed Makoto without hesitation.
After so long together, she could tell who was genuinely good to her.
Even if his tastes were a bit odd.
…
But when they reached the signal's location, no Adjuchas awaited.
Only a pale desert expanse.
At its center stood a dozen white bone pillars.
Harribel's pupils narrowed, sensing the Reiatsu pulsing from the bones.
Makoto's eyes gleamed with understanding, and he oddly relaxed.
He turned to the side.
Whoosh!
Szayelaporro's form rose slowly from the sand, standing by a bone pillar, his signature warped grin plastered on.
"As expected."
"That gadget in your hands tracks us via Reiatsu, doesn't it?"
"How careless."
He spread his arms toward Makoto, oozing arrogance, as if he'd already won, each word deliberate, "You…"
"Have been hooked by me!"
But when he looked up, Makoto wore a slightly troubled expression.
Szayelaporro's smile faltered.
"True..." Makoto nodded gravely, as if facing a dilemma. "You're a guy, though… this is a tricky situation. First time dealing with this."
"Bad compatibility."
"Hm?"
Szayelaporro's face froze, a puzzled sound escaping him.
But soon, Makoto raised his head.
In Szayelaporro's pupils reflected a clear, slightly manic grin.
What was with this guy's expression?
Did he have some hidden card?
What did that line even mean?
Before Szayelaporro could puzzle it out, Makoto's voice rang clear, tone leisurely, smile radiant, "But… whatever!"
"The meaning of life lies in constant experimentation."
"Right, Szayelaporro?"
Seeing that subtle grin, Szayelaporro felt a chill down his spine.
Something bad was coming.
***
If you want to read up to 50 chapters ahead, don't hesitate to visit our patron: pat reon . com / XElenea (removespace)