The air in Seireitei after the rain was exceptionally crisp, carrying a cold purity that had washed away all impurities, but inside the captains' meeting room deep within the First Division barracks—a room capable of deciding the fate of the Soul Society—the atmosphere was as heavy as lead.
Hiroki paced unhurriedly, his deep purple Sixth Division haori swaying gently with his steps, the newly embroidered gold-threaded Six-petaled Hibiscus Emblem on it flowing with a restrained luster in the dim light.
He pushed open the massive, heavy oak doors.
"Hum—"
The low groan of the door hinges sounded particularly abrupt in the overly quiet room.
In an instant, several gazes—some sharp, some scrutinizing, some obscure, and some filled with complex inquiry—focused like physical probes onto this youngest and most controversial new Captain.
He did not avoid these gazes; instead, with a faint, indiscernible smile on his lips, he walked in composedly, his calm gaze sweeping over those already seated.
The heavy killing aura stone walls absorbed all noise, compressing the space until only the faint hum of clashing spiritual pressures and suppressed breathing remained.
The massive circular conference table, with its indisputable authority, guarded the head seat—Yamamoto-Genryūsai Shigekuni.
The strongest Shinigami of a thousand years sat like a sculpture cast from lava and rock, his eyes slightly closed. Before him lay the preliminary report scroll regarding last night's "Noble Rebellion," a deep scar visible beneath his white, long eyebrows.
That heavy pressure, accumulated over a millennium, spread silently, serving as the very foundation of the meeting room.
At the lower position to his right, the seat closest to Yamamoto, was the Captain of the Second Division, Soi Fon.
She stood ramrod straight, her slender body tense like a needle ready to strike.
Beneath her dark green eyeshadow, those golden cat-like eyes locked onto Hiroki the moment he pushed the door open, her gaze a mixture of tension and a trace of indiscernible worry.
Her presence was the "legal basis" for Hiroki's actions last night—the "rebellion intelligence" personally reported by the supreme commander of the Onmitsukidō.
Beside her was the Fourth Division Captain, Unohana Retsu.
This strongest medical captain, usually wrapped in kind smiles and a gentle appearance, still maintained her mild demeanor. Her hands were folded in front of her, and her lips held that eternal, soft curve.
The several Captain-level spiritual pressure fluctuations that had soared and then abruptly ceased last night, along with the list of near-death casualties sent to the Fourth Division (especially Kurahashi Maki, who had been pierced by the [Golden Arrow]), could not possibly have escaped her perception.
She was like a bystander wearing a soft mask, taking in all the waves.
Further along was the Captain of the 5th Division, Aizen Sōsuke.
He stood straight, his face bearing his usual, refreshing, and gentle smile. His brown eyes, behind his glasses, reflected a perfectly measured amount of curiosity and a hint of gravity.
The sharp glint beneath his lenses was hidden extremely well, but Hiroki knew very well that this master strategist was likely one of the people in the room most "concerned" about last night's details.
Hiroki's gaze lingered briefly on Aizen for a second before naturally moving away to his own spot—the seat of the Sixth Division.
Next, he saw the Captain of the 8th Division, Kyoraku Shunsui.
This most trusted confidant of the Captain Commander stood with a somewhat lazy posture, his straw hat pulled low, obscuring the upper half of his face.
He seemed somewhat exhausted, his breathing carrying a slightly heavier tail than usual. Beneath his wide haori was the wound pierced by Shisui's Kunai last night; though it had been treated, the pain and the internal spiritual pressure disorder still persisted.
The corner of his mouth twitched slightly, and that smile appeared somewhat playful yet bitter under the shadow of his hat.
At the far end of the other side of the conference table was the Eleventh Division Captain, Kenpachi Kiganjō.
This battle maniac appeared extremely impatient, his thick arms crossed over his chest. His spiritual pressure, full of brute force, was like a volcano that could erupt at any moment, squeezing the surrounding air without restraint.
He was here to find amusement, or more accurately, hoping to catch a spark in this turmoil that would ignite a new round of slaughter.
Hiroki's gaze finally swept slowly across the empty seats—the Third, Seventh, Ninth, Tenth, and Twelfth Divisions.
Five empty spots silently spoke of the current awkward situation of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads' lack of successors.
Empty seats... counting myself, there are only seven people.
He chuckled inwardly.
Seeing this scene, I wonder if Old Man Yama feels a headache? If not for me, this "accident," wouldn't only six people be attending today's meeting? Tsk, the grand Captains of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads, and half the seats are empty... These hollow positions also reminded him of those "potential candidates" who had yet to take the stage:
That dangerous little fox Ichimaru Gin was still lurking by Aizen's side as a Vice-Captain.
Tōsen Kaname was currently still just an ordinary Seat Officer.
I don't know if the Doggy Captain (Komamura Sajin) has arrived in Seireitei yet... Shiba Isshin is currently unemployed at home, waiting for Old Man Yama to personally send someone to invite him.
As for that lunatic Mayuri Kurotsuchi... Thinking of him, the corner of Hiroki's mouth twitched imperceptibly.
(Flashback fragment from Mayuri Kurotsuchi's perspective: Deep inside a massive laboratory filled with precision instruments, soaking eerie specimens, and flickering with dangerous fluorescence.)
(A tall, thin figure wearing a researcher's white lab coat, his face obscured by a gas mask and strange hair ornaments—Mayuri Kurotsuchi—was spitting words rapidly at an extremely advanced communication terminal. On the screen was a faint image of Shihōin Hiroki.)
"Lord Hiroki! You make me so excited! No! It's the resources you've provided! Look at the energy matrix structure of this Biological Phase Separator!
"It is simply a work of art!"
"Using reishi flow of this intensity to analyze the decay parameters of Dangai Particles... this data leap is simply an elegant dance of death!"
"How can the trivialities of being a Captain compare to observing the chain disintegration of the Soul Substrate?"
"Those old fogies don't understand at all!"
"Only here... yes! Only under your 'sponsorship' can I reach the shore of truth!"
"My microscope doesn't care if its material is gold or rotten wood! As long as the research funds and rare samples you promised... arrive on time!"
(Flashback ends)
Right, Hiroki had thrown money at him again!
That scientific madman didn't care about the affairs of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads at all.
The future Mayuri Kurotsuchi would only become a Captain to obtain more resources!
Hiroki withdrew his thoughts, his gaze falling back on the Captain Commander.
Jūshirō Ukitake's absence was expected; at this moment, he was likely being tormented by violent coughing and physical weakness.