Chapter 489: The Shaking of the Soul Society
In the Samsara Game space,
there were originally only two small beginner islands: the Shinobi World and the Pirate World, like two tiny landmasses adrift.
Then came the continent-sized Arad World.
As more players joined, the Demon Slayer and Claymore worlds were also fused in, like additional floating islands.
Now, the entire game space resembled a vast void ocean dotted with a chain of massive archipelagos.
On this day,
the game space experienced an earthquake.
This was extremely rare—such tremors only happened when a new world fused into the game.
But this time, the shaking was violent, drawing countless hunting players to raise their heads and look toward the disturbance.
The world being fused in wasn't particularly large,
roughly the size of the Demon Slayer island, but it had a unique multi-layered structure:
The human world,
the Soul Society where spirits dwelled after death,
and the barren Hueco Mundo.
"So this is it, Aizen?"
A plain-looking man stood in the sky above the center of the new island in the game space, looking around curiously.
"I won't bother answering a question you already know the answer to."
Aizen's expression darkened as he turned away, refusing to respond to the man.
If he could, the thing he wanted most was to kill this man.
But he couldn't.
"Don't look so sour, Aizen. Haven't we reconciled?"
The man tried to smile, but it was awkward—like a newborn learning to use facial muscles for the first time, resulting in a warped and unnatural expression.
He was the origin of the Shinigami world.
The progenitor of Quincy, Shinigami, Fullbringers, and all supernatural power systems. Born at the dawn of the world, he was a primordial entity evolved from the will of the world.
According to the Shinigami,
he was the Soul King.
The Soul King was the cornerstone of the Shinigami world's existence. It was because he was made into a sacrifice that the chaotic early world was stabilized.
That's when the Soul Society, Hueco Mundo, and the human realm came to be.
"It's hard to imagine—someone as omniscient and omnipotent as you being manipulated by those foolish nobles. Someone like you…"
The ever-composed and gentle Aizen couldn't maintain his calm in front of the Soul King.
Half a month ago,
he led the Hollow army—born from Konoha's destruction—to attack the Soul Society, ascending all the way to the Soul King's Palace.
Yamamoto Genryūsai was overpowered by Hōgyoku-enhanced Hollows,
the Zero Squad was crushed under Aizen's spiritual pressure,
and even Zanpakutō with rule-based powers were nullified by his [Spirit] stat buffed by the Samsara Game.
Just like he had always said:
A Shinigami's battle is a battle of reiatsu.
It was a rampage with no opposition.
Nothing could stop Aizen—until he tried to spend ten million reward points to seize control of the Soul King's Palace.
At that moment,
the Soul King—who had always existed in a state of neither life nor death—suddenly intervened.
Golden-tier Aizen, with all his power and means, was instantly nullified. Even his reiatsu was sealed.
When he realized that everything he had accomplished was nothing more than an illusion under Kyōka Suigetsu,
his heart nearly stopped.
"The Five Great Noble Families dismembered you, and you didn't resist at all."
Aizen's voice rose in anger. "But when I try to create a new world—you interfere?!"
It was a conversation heard throughout the entire Soul Society.
"Aizen, what is your view of the world?"
The Soul King's voice echoed like ocean waves in every ear.
Aizen took a deep breath and replied coldly:
"The new world I envision must be cleansed of sin. It must cast away lies."
"It cannot be ruled by the authority of nobles. It cannot fall into the same silence as the old world!"
This was his truth.
He had never told anyone—because in his eyes, no one was worthy of hearing it.
No one,
except the Soul King, who had just crushed his plans.
Aizen had intended to free the Soul King from his million-year prison—and then replace him, becoming the new cornerstone of the world.
He didn't want power.
He didn't want fame.
He didn't care for riches.
To Aizen, those were all laughable things. Even Yamamoto Genryūsai misunderstood him—thinking Aizen wanted to rule the world.
How laughable. How shallow.
What Aizen wanted to become was a god who could create an entirely new world—a god who wrote the rules.
"A noble ambition. And so… I responded to you."
The Soul King turned, trying to show a look of praise—but all he could manage was a strange, crooked smile.
"You are not my fragment, yet you are a very special being in the world of Shinigami—blessed with intelligence, talent, and a power that aligns perfectly with your vision."
"I've long understood the world you desire."
Aizen didn't refute that.
The Soul King's omniscience truly could see all things.
"But the future you seek does not exist—or at least, not in my eyes."
In the original timeline,
Aizen would have been defeated and imprisoned.
Even Yhwach, the Quincy King, couldn't create a new world.
Because of that,
the Soul King had remained passive, never interfering.
Until…
Gin Ichimaru suddenly vanished.
And brought with him the power of the Samsara Game. It was like a fish swimming into a dead lake.
"The Samsara Game has shown me hope—a hope that the structure of the Shinigami world might finally change."
"And just as you dreamed of a new world—it too can be found in this space."
"Aizen, you were simply too impatient."
From the moment he arrived in the Samsara Game space, the Soul King lost his omniscient abilities.
Like a frog who had mastered every inch of a well—suddenly leaping beyond its rim.
He rather liked that feeling.
The Soul King looked up and suddenly asked,
"May I meet him? Mr. Fang Yi?"
He waited for a while.
No response.
The Soul King gave a bitter smile and muttered, "As I thought, I overestimated my own importance. It seems he's not interested in me."
Even the creator of the Shinigami world couldn't get special treatment?
Of course, he wasn't seeking favoritism. He was simply curious—curious about the master of this Samsara space.
As the foundation of the Shinigami world, he deeply wondered about the one who stood above even this.
"No—I warmly welcome the Soul King to become a player of the Samsara Game."
A voice suddenly rang out.
Fang Yi's figure gradually solidified from illusion to clarity, appearing before the Soul King.
The Soul King revealed a look of delight, but then doubt followed: "You look... very ordinary."
"Ordinary?"
Fang Yi looked at the Soul King and asked, "What, should I be like you? Devoid of all emotion, where even smiles and surprise are just disguises? Where everything is governed by rigid rules, like the changing of seasons?"
He had agreed to meet the Soul King
because the Soul King was powerful—his first Tier 3 (pseudo) player.
And with the entire Bleach world as his backing, there was no doubt about his talent and potential.
Just... incomplete.
"You mean I shouldn't be?"
After his disguise was exposed, the Soul King reverted to his emotionless state.
If he could recover his fragmented body, he could become a complete Tier 3 player, just as Fang Yi envisioned.
Fang Yi shook his head and smiled. "There's no 'should' or 'shouldn't'. You and I are just different."
"Looks like you have no intention of recovering your body. In that case, you'll easily be surpassed by other players and miss your chance to be the first Tier 3."
Fang Yi displayed the reward for the first player to ascend to Tier 3:
A World Seed.
If the Soul King could obtain it, he could stabilize the entire Bleach world.
A transparent, mirror-like screen appeared.
It showed Konoha's remaining forces—not demoralized by their destruction, but reforged in the fire, their will stronger than ever.
It showed Orochimaru, now the new head of the Konoha Clan, reforming and expanding rapidly.
It showed the Navy Alliance patrolling across worlds.
It showed the Adventurer Guild—now gathering players from other worlds like a wildfire—and their efforts to explore uncharted lands.
It showed the magic guilds of the Fairy Tail world, and the royal factions, all eager to seize the Samsara Game as a trigger for a magical renaissance.
...
Elsewhere,
new players were being recruited through multiverse game invitations, pulling in fresh worlds.
In a filthy bug-ridden house, in the basement—
a purple-haired girl lay lifeless on the cold floor. Countless squirming insects crawled over her, threatening to consume her whole.
Suddenly, a pitch-black invitation floated in the air.
A pale, slender hand emerged from the mound of insects and seized the invitation.
Her figure vanished from the bug house.
"Her presence disappeared—who dares invade the Matou family? Seeking death?!"
...
On a pedestrian bridge.
"No… Kotonoha, stop it! Damn it, have you lost your mind?!"
The sound of flesh being hacked apart.
Blood splattered.
A curvy, sweet-faced schoolgirl in a uniform wielded a hacksaw,
her eyes vacant as she repeatedly hacked at a bloodied boy.
Finally, she collapsed in the puddle of blood, laughing in ecstasy.
A game invitation fluttered down like a cherry blossom petal, landing on her snowy thigh.
...
The islands of the Samsara Game world continued to expand and grow.
The number of players increased by the day.
Even in ordinary urban worlds, players hunted polluted monsters, forming clans and alliances.
Some players, through sheer will and talent, upon encountering the Samsara Game, were no longer bound by their world's limitations.
In the lowest-tier zombie world—
A purple-haired girl gripped a katana, her face flushed, swinging wildly and decapitating zombies.
Sticky blood stained her pristine school uniform.
Any ordinary girl would have screamed.
But she licked her lips, murmuring to herself, laughing wildly: "This is bliss. What I once thought was my dark side—violence—is actually the very thing that will help me survive the apocalypse."
[Killed low-level zombie, reward points +5, EXP +5]
Prompt: Submit 200 reward points to activate the player panel.
"What's this…?"
Saeko Busujima squeezed her thighs together. The ecstasy born from killing and earning points nearly made her collapse with pleasure.
In the ruined zombie world,
Fang Yi hadn't specifically recruited anyone.
He had simply planted a Samsara Game Seed, allowing it to take root and grow in that world—naturally attracting players with potential.
He continued roaming the void, piercing world barriers, arriving in an ancient war-torn world.
A delicately crafted Game Seed fell from the sky, burying itself in parched soil.
The ground quaked. The heavens trembled.
Cracked farmland came to life. Nourishing rain fell from the sky.
Koi leapt from the rivers, large as calves. White tigers in the wild howled, sending shockwaves through the hills.
"Immortal master! Immortal master!"
In a village abandoned by the royal court—where famine and plague reigned—desperate peasants lay waiting for death.
A tall man in a Daoist robe charged into the village against the flow of fleeing people,
ignoring protests.
He boiled a cartful of rice into thin porridge, mixed it with talisman water, and fed it to everyone.
"Save whoever can be saved. Even if they can't be saved, at least they'll die with full bellies."
Looking at the tragedy before him, the man sighed silently.
Then, strange phenomena began.
The entire world began to change. Peasants who drank the "fake" talisman water rose, full of vigor.
Countless refugees spontaneously knelt before the tall man.
His body was bathed in golden light from their sincere worship.
Even the lotus crown on his head glowed brilliantly.
Like he wore a golden scarf.
[You have accepted the will of the people. Become the first player. Reward: Game Item "Thunder Law"!]
Looking at the starving masses now kneeling in devotion,
the tall man let out a deep sigh, raised his hand to the heavens, and shouted:
"Heaven is dead. Come, let us ask the lords and ministers of the court—are our lives truly as worthless as weeds?!"
...
Countless players kept growing, marching toward the Continent of Corruption.
"If this momentum continues, no matter how strong the pollution is—it will be purified."
Fang Yi smiled with anticipation.
He muttered to himself, "Turns out, rather than being the savior myself, it's better to let all life… save itself."
(End)