Chapter 40: Chapter 40: An Ominous Beginning
Chapter 40: An Ominous Beginning
"Eat up, Yato."
The valiant young man handed over an exquisitely crafted food box.
"Don’t hold back."
"Thank you, Senior Kaien." Yato Uchiha offered a respectful bow and opened the lid.
Crystal-clear, meticulously arranged raw fish and shrimp, perfectly seared Wagyu beef radiating a savory aroma, and verdant green vegetables that looked as if they had just been plucked from the garden...
"This is far too lavish, Senior Kaien," the boy said with a bitter smile.
"Honestly, I’d be perfectly fine just munching on some onigiri."
"How could I allow that? I even specifically instructed the chef to make today’s dishes a bit saltier, to better suit your taste."
"Then I won’t hold back."
Yato Uchiha sat side-by-side with Kaien Shiba and began enjoying the meal, occasionally looking up at the sparse, low-slung buildings in the distance.
This was Yato’s second month stationed at Mount Ketsuto in the Zaraki District, and also his second month working alongside Kaien.
Kaien Shiba was incredibly friendly and took great care of Yato Uchiha in every aspect. He even went so far as to instruct his family’s stewards to meticulously cater to Yato’s culinary preferences, ensuring no corners were cut.
Yato knew that although Kaien Shiba was renowned for his passionate and generous nature, treating him this well carried a hint of extending his love for his brother.
After all, the Zanpakuto Yato wielded was essentially half a memento of Kaien’s younger brother, Moritora Shiba. It was only natural that seeing the blade would evoke thoughts of its previous owner.
And so, in this desolate, godforsaken corner of the Rukongai, the two got along famously. Their lives here were arguably more comfortable than before; at the very least, they didn’t have to deal with mountains of Division paperwork.
After finishing lunch, they set aside the food box bearing the Shiba Clan crest and began stretching their limbs.
"Where are we starting today, Senior Kaien?"
"You head from south to north; I’ll go in the opposite direction. If you encounter any Ryoka, flare your Spiritual Pressure, and I’ll be there to support you immediately."
"Understood," Yato replied softly.
This arrangement subtly reflected Kaien’s continuous care for Yato. Given that this was the 80th District of the North Rukongai, heading from south to north—away from the absolute edge and toward the Seireitei—was inherently slightly safer.
"Move out. We’ll rendezvous in the center of the Zaraki District in four hours!"
The moment the words left his mouth, the figures of Yato and Kaien vanished from the mountaintop.
After living here for a month, the boy had become quite familiar with the Zaraki District. It didn’t take him long to reach the southernmost edge.
His eyes turned crimson, and a single tomoe materialized in each eye.
To avoid alerting the enemy, Yato wasn’t wearing a Shihakusho. Instead, he wore a loose-fitting blue kosode and hakama, resembling the typical ronin commonly seen in the Zaraki District.
As for the Zanpakuto in his hand? There was absolutely no need to hide it. In Zaraki, carrying a weapon was mandatory when leaving the house; even old ladies lugged around massive broadswords when they went grocery shopping!
Chewing on a blade of grass, Yato carried Akame over his shoulder and strolled lazily, blending in perfectly with the local residents.
In less than an hour, he encountered five separate brawls, all of which escalated to drawn blades and drawn blood. One unfortunate fellow had his femoral artery slashed and lay twitching on the ground; it was clear he wasn’t going to make it.
No one cared, and no one intervened.
As the governing body of the Soul Society, the Seireitei rarely dispatched Soul Reapers to any Rukongai district numbered above seventy, instead leaving them to fend for themselves.
As for the reason?
A few years ago, when Yato was in the 61st District preparing for the Shin’o Academy entrance exam, he had learned the standard textbook answer to this question:
"Due to the arduous nature of cultivating Soul Reapers and a mortality rate as high as five percent annually, we cannot spare the manpower to deploy personnel to chaotic regions. However, the nobility will fulfill their managerial responsibilities in these areas..."
But now, having been a Soul Reaper for over half a year, Yato knew this standard answer was utter bullshit.
The true reason was that the Seireitei considered the deaths of Rukongai residents to be an essential part of the soul cycle.
Otherwise, given the incredibly long lifespan of souls, the population in the Soul Society would inevitably bloat to unsustainable levels. This would easily shatter the balance between the three realms, leading to the sequential collapse of Hueco Mundo, the World of the Living, and the Soul Society.
Although cruel, it was undeniably an effective method for maintaining the balance of souls across the three realms.
Consequently, under intentional or unintentional negligence, the Rukongai districts numbered above seventy became lawless lands where violent criminals ran rampant, even breeding underground organizations like black markets.
Of course, the current state of affairs here had nothing to do with Yato. He and Kaien Shiba’s sole purpose in coming to Zaraki was to root out the Ryoka, or wait for the rendezvous signal to execute a coordinated annihilation of the group.
Walking along the uneven streets of the Zaraki District with his sword over his shoulder, Yato’s pace wasn’t particularly fast, but thanks to his Sharingan, he could still perceive any unusual Spiritual Pressures.
Yato had done this every single day for the past month. Although he was patient, he had yet to find a single lead.
However, he understood that for this group of Ryoka to dare infiltrate the Seireitei, they had to be highly capable. Impatience would yield nothing.
As he conducted his leisurely patrol, time slowly slipped away.
By the time the sky began to darken, Yato had approached the center of the Zaraki District. He could already faintly see the designated meeting spot he had agreed upon with Kaien Shiba in the distance.
Right at that moment, however, Yato’s pupils constricted imperceptibly.
A hundred meters diagonally ahead, a young man was drinking water at a small tea stall.
He was quite tall and had an ordinary face, looking no different from any other idler on the street.
Yet, through Yato’s Sharingan, the young man’s skin appeared to be wreathed in a layer of flames, flickering in tandem with his movements.
His Spiritual Pressure level wasn’t low.
Class 9 Rei-i? Or perhaps Class 8?
Yato’s hand locked onto Akame’s tsuba. Without a moment’s hesitation, he closed the hundred-meter gap in a single bound, drawing his blade and slashing downward!
In a godforsaken place like the Zaraki District, there was no tradition of "identifying oneself to request cooperation." Vagabonds and warriors refused to be governed; if you wanted to interrogate someone, you had to beat them into submission first!
Vrrr—
The blade tore through the air, emitting a low hum. It was as if the young man drinking water had eyes in the back of his head; he tossed aside his tea bowl, spun around, and delivered a horizontal slash, his blade colliding perfectly with Akame.
The instant the blades clashed, the corners of Yato Uchiha’s mouth curled upward.
This sensation... it’s a Zanpakuto? He really is a Ryoka!
It matches the intel! After killing members of the Gotei 13, they’re actually stealing and using their Zanpakuto!
As his thoughts raced, Yato abruptly dropped his shoulder, increasing his force by thirty percent, intending to completely overpower his opponent.
Unfortunately, the young Ryoka’s response was also flawless. His body suddenly went limp like a willow branch, slipping past the edge of Yato’s blade while simultaneously executing a lightning-fast counter-slash.
The entire evasion and counterattack formed a sharp, seamless maneuver—a textbook response.
No, that’s not just "textbook"...
A specific memory flashed through Yato Uchiha’s mind.
"Your body must be like duckweed on water, yet your blade must borrow the momentum to counterattack. Remember, this Zanjutsu technique is called ’Willow Hairpin’!"
This was exactly what the Zanjutsu instructor had said during a secret technique class for the sixth-year graduating class a year ago.
—This is a literal technique from the Shin’o Academy textbooks!
Yato’s heart abruptly sank, realizing that this group of Ryoka was likely not just a simple band of intruders.
"Ryoka," the boy said, enunciating every word.
"Who taught you that move?"
The young man didn’t utter a word, merely glaring fiercely at Yato.
"Very well. It seems you truly are part of the Ryoka gang the Captain-Commander branded as ’Villains’."
Yato Uchiha chuckled lightly, his voice suddenly turning freezing cold:
"Then I’ll just break your arms and legs and let you explain yourself to the 1st Division."
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