No Cheat in Bleach ? Watch me help Aizen then.-Chapter 76: Awakening of Thought

On that nameless island adrift atop the ocean of the Human World, only four remained in the clearing—blades drawn, killing intent thick as blood.

When Higashi Shuuichi lifted the spiritual pressure seals on his own soul, battle became inevitable. From his perspective, there had never truly been any room for compromise. He could not allow agents from the Western Branch of Soul Society to simply appear and leave at their leisure, as if the East were theirs to stroll through unchecked.

"Heh... now we're getting somewhere."

Cap Holmes—smoking pipe gripped in his teeth, eyes no longer smiling—watched Shuuichi's unleashed reiatsu ripple through the air like thunder.

"Hadō #63—Fire Formation: Raikōhō!"

Shuuichi no longer wasted breath. Once battle began, the only dialogue left was death.

The flaming thunder cannon roared forward, augmented by the ability of his Zanpakutō.

"Spell No. 51—Argent Mirror Shield!"

Cap calmly raised his left hand. Silvery fluid shimmered into existence, forming a sleek medieval-style buckler. The explosive blast slammed into it, lighting the field in a burst of sparks and noise—but left not even a scratch on its mirrored surface.

This mirror shield... far sturdier than the one made earlier by Trombo Takné, which Soifon had nearly shattered.

Clearly, Cap's technique surpassed his subordinate's.

But Shuuichi noticed something strange.

Cap leaned forward, grabbing hold of the mirrored shield with his right hand—his stance shifting.

"Spell No. 24—Lance of Purity!"

From his left hand, a pure white spear formed, then hurled forward like a railgun.

Shuuichi's mind calculated instantly.

Western Branch "spells" equated to Eastern Branch Kidō. The lower the number, the weaker the technique. Given their relatively close reiatsu levels, Shuuichi judged that a No. 24 couldn't possibly overwhelm him.

Intercept. Counter. Close the gap. Bind and blast.

"Fuzan!"

His Zanpakutō struck the incoming spear. He moved with precision—Shunpo into strike posture, ready to drive forward—

"Still too young."

Cap smiled faintly. Smoke coiled from his pipe once more.

"Spell No. 109—Link: Lance & Mirror!"

Black smoke morphed midair into a chain, forging a bridge between the spear and the shield still gripped in Cap's hand.

The spear, once light and flickering, suddenly gained mass. Immovable. Implacable.

Shuuichi's expression froze.

The "weak" spear pierced straight through his right shoulder.

"You should scurry back while you still—"

Cap's smug dismissal died mid-sentence.

Because what happened next should not have been possible.

"You're regenerating...?"

The gaping wound on Shuuichi's body was healing—rapidly, unnaturally. Like a Hollow. Like a Vizard. But he was no such thing.

Shuuichi, of course, offered no answer.

The probing phase was over.

"Tactical Doctrine: Bankai—Blade Hidden in Laughter!"

He charged.

Abandoning defense for pure aggression, a technique forged under Unohana Retsu's relentless blade.

Any attack that struck him, no matter how minor, triggered an equal counterstrike. He became a hedgehog—no, a battlefield porcupine. Everything that harmed him would pay in full.

But with regeneration as his failsafe, the exchange of injuries meant nothing to him.

Cap gritted his teeth.

This wasn't sustainable.

Even the mighty could bleed. And soon enough, he noticed it—Shuuichi's stamina, waning. Every step slower than the last.

"There it is," Cap murmured, smiling again. "No power is flawless. You've got a weakness—and I've found it!"

Blocking another slash with his mirror shield, Cap raised his injured right arm to the sky.

"Code 1647—Domain Release: Valley of Dread!"

The heavens darkened.

A black curtain unfurled over the island, transforming the terrain itself.

A mournful howling filled the void. Trees, rocks, wind, even the rain—all pulsed with crushing spiritual pressure, aimed solely at one soul:

Higashi Shuuichi.

"Consider it an honor," Cap declared, standing at the valley's edge. "To fall inside my Valley of Dread."

No dragon had ever survived it. And despite Shuuichi's abnormal regenerative powers, his stamina was still finite.

Meanwhile, Trombo Takné danced with Soifon in deadly rhythm. The two blurred and clashed, evenly matched.

"You Easterners are all so cold," Trombo chuckled. "Even as your ally suffers, you won't shed a tear."

"Shuuichi-sama will not lose."

Soifon's voice rang with faith, eyes unwavering.

Trombo only shook his head—pitying, almost.

She didn't know who her partner faced.

Cap Holmes was no ordinary man. He could've led the Blade Corps, but chose to lead the Development Division instead—for the love of experimentation.

Yet fate moves with irony.

Just then—from the depths of that dreadful valley—

Five thunderous dragon roars shook the heavens.

The clouds split. Light rained down.

Higashi Shuuichi stood, bloodied, leaning on his Zanpakutō—but upright.

"Hadō #99—Goryūtenmetsu."

Panting, he lifted one eye toward the shocked Cap Holmes.

He had nearly lost.

Cap stared back, then chuckled, lowering his guard.

"Impressive. Do all Vice-Captains in the East fight like you?"

He sensed something new.

A titanic reiatsu approached fast—someone even he dared not provoke lightly.

A figure dropped from the sky, landing between Shuuichi and Cap.

Calm. Steady.

A glance of apology to Shuuichi, then a turn to Cap.

"This pointless battle is over."

Soft words. Absolute authority.

Cap paused... then sighed.

"Alright, alright. Trombo, grab the dragon. We're leaving."

He knew the number stitched on that haori: 13. And he knew what it meant.

But just before they could vanish—

"No," Ukitake Jūshirō said quietly, raising his blade.

One stroke.

The dragon, torn and writhing, dissolved into spirit particles and vanished into the wind.

"You may leave," Ukitake said evenly. "But that thing stays here."

"Captain Holmes!"

Trombo howled in protest, but Cap stopped him with a gesture.

"...Hah. Well played."

He looked back at the Eastern Shinigami.

"I'll remember this, all of you."

His gaze lingered on Shuuichi.

"I like you, kid. If the East doesn't work out... come visit the West. I think you'd shine there."

He'd seen it—ambition.

Too strong to remain a Vice-Captain forever.

As they vanished into the skies, Cap's voice echoed behind him.

Shuuichi dropped to one knee, panting.

Twice in one year, he'd faced life-threatening battles.

And now, reality struck him like a hammer.

He had doubled his spiritual pressure, true. He'd even found ways to grow further.

But his Zanpakutō? Its techniques were cunning, but lacked power. No brute force. No edge in a head-on battle.

If an enemy figured out his tricks, his combat effectiveness plummeted.

Even his regenerative "gift" from the Soul King's fingernail meant nothing without stamina to back it up.

Unohana taught him that once. Now Cap Holmes had reminded him again.

Zanjutsu? Hakuda? Too slow to improve.

Kidō? Powerful, but too inflexible under pressure.

"...I didn't want to take the risk so soon."

Shuuichi lifted his eyes skyward.

A few months ago, he'd looked that same direction and told himself: never covet that place.

But things had changed.

Cap Holmes had shown him the truth.

In this world, death never sends a postcard.

Even a simple picnic could become your last stand.

Fortune might save you once—but never twice.

Waiting forever for the "perfect" opportunity was a beautiful lie.

A fragile bubble, one touch away from bursting.