Chapter 216-220

Chapter 216: There Must Not Be a Next Time

Division 3, Squad Barracks.

This was a structure built beside the water.

Next to the building was a grove of trees, and in front of the gate, a wooden path was laid down. Though its location lacked the idyllic environment of Division 4’s barracks and did not possess the grandeur and majesty of Division 1’s barracks, it still gave off a refreshing and serene feeling.

Under Chikane Iba’s lead, Kaiser arrived at this barracks and met the Shinigami belonging to Division 3.

They were all gathered in front of Division 3’s barracks gate, uniformly dressed in black Shihakushō, Zanpakutōs hanging from their waists, arrayed like a military formation—disciplined and orderly.

“Oh?”

Seeing this, Kaiser stopped walking.

“Is this a welcome party?”

Sensing the Reiatsu diffused in the air, Kaiser cast a half-smile toward Chikane Iba.

“Of course,” Chikane Iba replied without changing expression. “This is a necessary ceremony.”

“Is that so?” Kaiser replied with a calm expression. “Then why are they all blocking the entrance like this, and releasing their Reiatsu without restraint?”

Rather than a welcoming ceremony, this looked more like a gathering of yakuza preparing to start a turf war.

“I ask for your understanding, Captain,” Chikane Iba looked at Kaiser solemnly and said. “The position of Division 3’s Captain has been vacant for decades now.”

“In other words, we’ve had no Captain for decades.”

“Though I’ve done my best to maintain Division 3’s operations and prevent it from falling apart, the absence of a Captain ultimately left Division 3 inferior among the Gotei 13, bringing us considerable hardship.”

“Now that we’ve finally welcomed a Captain who can lead us—if that person proves to be incompetent, wouldn’t it make things even more unbearable for us?”

Chikane Iba spoke these words with exceptional frankness, fully displaying the fearlessness and domineering aura of a yakuza matron.

“So, this is a necessary ceremony.”

“Captain, I ask that you prove yourself to them.”

“Prove that you have the power to lead them.”

This was a bold act.

To dare challenge a Captain—such a thing was no small matter in the hierarchy-obsessed Soul Society.

But Chikane Iba had done it without hesitation, fully proving how desperately Division 3 wanted a truly strong Captain, and demonstrating their doubt toward Kaiser.

They must have known about Kaiser’s background, right?

Not yet eighteen even combining life and afterlife, graduated from the Shin’ō Academy after just half a year—such a figure may indeed be a prodigy who shook the history of the Soul Society, but he was still far too young—so young it cast doubt on whether he truly had what it took to be a Captain.

Such doubt—if it were in a combat squad like Division 11—wouldn’t end with mere posturing like this. In Division 11, without a real fight to prove yourself, you’d never be accepted by those battle-crazed maniacs.

Though Division 3 wasn’t quite like that, under Chikane Iba’s command it had taken on some similar yakuza-like qualities. Unless you proved yourself to them, there was no way they would acknowledge you as their boss.

Kaiser could tell that this wasn’t spontaneous—it was a test someone had deliberately arranged.

That person was undoubtedly Chikane Iba.

“As expected of someone whom Lieutenant Sasakibe praises highly, Lieutenant Iba,” Kaiser said with a smile. “I heard that you often used forceful methods to keep the previous Division 3 Captain in line. Looks like your spirit hasn’t changed one bit.”

“…That man was too wishy-washy, always timid and spineless. If I hadn’t put pressure on him, he’d have never gotten anything done.” Chikane Iba was silent for a moment, then said expressionlessly, “It’s because of that that idiot met such an end. What a fool.”

To speak of her own Captain like this—clearly, this Lieutenant was no pushover.

Too bad, this time, she picked the wrong person to pressure.

“I’m not like Zaraki—I won’t draw my blade and cut you down.”

Kaiser spoke as he slowly walked forward.

“If, by the time I reach the gate, there’s still anyone standing—then let’s say I’m unfit to be this squad’s Captain.”

As he spoke, golden Reiatsu surged from his body.

That Reiatsu wasn’t unleashed in a sudden burst like when facing Kenpachi Zaraki, but rather rose slowly like a rising tide, gradually filling the heavens and the earth.

Thus, while Division 3’s members remained at the ready, they suddenly found their vision starting to tremble.

The sky was trembling.

The earth was trembling.

Space itself was trembling.

Even the Reishi in the air trembled, as if scorched by blazing heat, fluctuating violently.

“————!”

In that moment, every single Division 3 Shinigami—including Chikane Iba—changed expression.

They instinctively activated their Reiatsu, attempting to resist the golden Reiatsu that filled the entire realm. But the moment their Reiatsu began to rise, the golden wave crushed them like an avalanche, utterly overwhelming their spiritual pressure in an instant.

“Thud!”

“Thud!”

“Thud!”

One by one, the Division 3 Shinigami collapsed to the ground as though struck by lightning.

The first to fall were, naturally, the ordinary squad members—unable to muster even a sliver of resistance, they instantly dropped to the ground, their faces frozen in terror.

Next came the Seated Officers—from the lowest rank upward, all the way to Third Seat—they fell or knelt in succession, faces pale, foreheads drenched in sweat.

And last, of course, was Chikane Iba—standing closest to Kaiser and therefore suffering the brunt of it. Yet she was also the last to collapse. Her gaze upon Kaiser’s back brimmed with astonishment.

“What an unbelievable Reiatsu…”

Chikane Iba’s entire body trembled.

As the Lieutenant of Division 3, she had seen Captain-class Reiatsu before. But to her, this Reiatsu surpassed that of other Captains by a wide margin.

At the very least, the Reiatsu of the previous Captain didn’t come close to this.

They weren’t even on the same level—leaving Chikane Iba utterly shocked, utterly stunned.

“To think… both are Captains… but his Reiatsu is this much stronger?”

“How… how could this be?”

“Didn’t he just graduate from the Academy?”

Could this be the true might of Second-Class Spiritual Power?

Normally, Third-Class Spiritual Power was already enough to be considered Captain-level. Second-Class was only one step above that—but the gap between the two was this vast?

While Chikane Iba was still reeling, Kaiser had already strolled calmly past the Division 3 gate, walking through the rows of collapsed Shinigami.

Along the way, not a single person remained standing. Not a single one could stop him.

“I’m not someone who puts on airs, but if anyone thinks that makes me easy to push around—then I don’t mind showing them what temper really looks like.”

Without turning around, Kaiser spoke to them with his back facing the crowd.

“So I’ll only say this once. All of you, listen carefully.”

As he stepped into the barracks, he left them with a single sentence.

“There must not be a next time.”

Leaving those words behind, Kaiser vanished into the squad barracks.

And with his departure, the overwhelming Reiatsu that had filled heaven and earth dispersed—allowing the Division 3 members to gasp for breath, looking as if they had just survived a great calamity.

Seeing this, Chikane Iba trembled once more.

But this time, it was not from shock.

It was from comfort and exhilaration.

“Looks like Division 3 finally has an incredible Captain.”

Thinking back on her hardships over the past decades, Chikane Iba felt like her suffering had finally borne fruit.

“You have ten minutes to pull yourselves together!”

Chikane Iba stood, glaring at the still-collapsed Division 3 Shinigami and bellowed with fury.

“In ten minutes, I want everyone back at their posts!”

“If our Captain sees you in even the slightest disheveled state again—you’d best prepare to commit seppuku on the spot!”

“Is that clear!?”

At her words, the entire Division 3 jolted to attention and rose swiftly to their feet.

“““““Yes!”””””

Leaving their resounding response behind her, Chikane Iba strode quickly into the barracks, chasing after Kaiser.

As Lieutenant, she would not allow herself to fail in her duties.

…………

Each Gotei 13 squad’s barracks was equipped with an office and a private rest area for the Captain. Division 3’s barracks was no exception.

Now that he was officially on duty and back on his home turf, Kaiser went straight to the office, where he received a report from the newly-arrived Chikane Iba.

“Because the Captain’s position has been vacant for decades, our Division 3 has lost much of its competitiveness compared to the other squads.”

“During those years, some Shinigami originally assigned to Division 3 transferred to other squads, and due to the lack of a Captain, Division 3 became an unpopular choice for new recruits—leading to very few volunteers.”

“As a result, we currently have only 147 squad members and officers, with several seated officer positions vacant. We are now the squad with the fewest personnel in the entire Gotei 13.”

Chikane Iba reported all of this to Kaiser—not just internal personnel matters, but also operational ones.

“Over the years, I’ve done my best to keep things running, solving most of the tasks assigned to Division 3, but some matters can only be handled by the Captain. Those items have piled up. Except for expired requests, everything else is here.”

Chikane Iba placed a large stack of documents on Kaiser’s desk.

“…This really is…”

Looking at the thick stack, Kaiser’s eye twitched.

He had anticipated some internal issues within Division 3—but not this many.

There was no helping it. After all, no one had filled the Captain’s seat for decades. Even though Chikane Iba was highly capable and had kept everything in order, as she said—some things could only be resolved by a Captain, and otherwise would remain piled up, waiting to be addressed.

Kaiser rubbed his temples and picked up one of the documents to read.

Division 3 was a support squad—their duty was to provide assistance to the operations of the other squads.

No matter which squad encountered difficulties beyond their capabilities, Division 3 was obligated to assist them in resolving the issue.

Because of this, Division 3’s responsibilities were the broadest in the Gotei 13.

If Division 11 lacked manpower and needed help in combat, Division 3 had to provide fighters.

If Division 8 needed help gathering intelligence, Division 3 had to provide personnel.

Even if Division 4 was short-staffed and needed help tending to the wounded or patients, Division 3 had to send support.

In such a situation, Division 3 had the most extensive range of duties in the Gotei 13.

Unfortunately, due to the absence of a Captain, Division 3 had suffered a drop in numbers—resulting in all kinds of tasks being delayed.

And that was only the primary tasks. Division 3 also had to deal with secondary operations.

Building maintenance, inventory of supplies, logistics and back-end coordination—all of these also fell under Division 3’s responsibilities.

These secondary responsibilities were not unique to Division 3.

For instance, Division 4, in addition to medical duties, was responsible for cleaning all of Seireitei.

Or Division 9, which had an editorial department tasked with reporting duties—and other functions.

Division 6 handled disputes among noble families. Division 5 dealt with educational matters. Division 12 handled communications and similar tasks. Division 2’s duties included assassination, surveillance of Shinigami activity, guarding the surveillance towers, searching for missing Shinigamis, and rapidly conveying orders across squads.

Each squad had side jobs like this.

These matters, stacked up over decades—how could there not be a mountain of them?

Had Chikane Iba not been so competent, solving most matters despite the vacancy at the top, Kaiser’s desk would have surely been buried beneath paperwork today.

“In other words, the two most urgent issues I need to solve after taking office are the shortage of squad members and the backlog of old administrative tasks?”

Kaiser put down the file and looked at Chikane Iba.

“Yes,” Chikane Iba nodded firmly and said. “Especially the latter—it must be addressed no matter what.”

Hearing that, Kaiser knew it.

His days ahead were going to be busy indeed.

Chapter 217: The Affairs of Division 3

The day after Kaiser’s inauguration, Division 3 began mobilizing on a large scale.

The Shinigami of Division 3, as if reinvigorated with new life, were dispatched in high spirits to various squads, resolving the backlog of affairs that had accumulated over decades.

To resolve the manpower shortage, Kaiser, after inquiring with Chikane Iba, personally visited the squads that were relatively idle at the time and borrowed some manpower. He also rejected certain excessively cumbersome tasks, sending them back to the squads that had handed them off to Division 3 in the first place.

Kaiser discovered that perhaps due to the absence of a Captain in Division 3 previously, other squads’ Shinigami had come to regard Division 3 as “easy to bully.” Some matters that they could clearly have handled themselves were instead falsely labeled as needing support and dumped onto Division 3.

As for this kind of work, Kaiser naturally would not allow his subordinates to obediently solve others’ messes. He bluntly rejected them all and temporarily blacklisted those squads. He told Chikane Iba that, for any squad that had engaged in such behavior, unless the issue was particularly urgent, Division 3 would no longer offer them any support.

This naturally caused quite a stir among the various squads, escalating to the point where their Captains had to personally come to negotiate with Kaiser before the matter was put to rest.

Once this issue was resolved, Division 3’s work efficiency suddenly increased by several multiples, and they rapidly dealt with the affairs that had long remained unresolved.

After that, Kaiser began tackling the secondary affairs.

He boldly employed non-Shinigami personnel, recruiting a batch of temporary workers from outside the squad. These individuals were tasked with building maintenance, repairs, logistics, and other miscellaneous duties throughout Seireitei. The stockpiling of supplies for the Gotei 13 was supervised by a few Shinigami, who guided these non-Shinigami workers to ensure no problems occurred.

As for the funds required to hire these workers, Kaiser submitted an application to Division 1, which was swiftly approved. Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto seemed quite willing to support him, encouraging him to proceed boldly. As long as it didn’t violate the rules, he would offer full backing.

With this bold employment of non-Shinigami personnel, the progress in miscellaneous tasks sped up dramatically, and the long-festering backlog of chores in Division 3 was resolved one by one.

As for the internal manpower shortage, that couldn’t be solved overnight. Kaiser could only instruct Chikane Iba to keep an eye on underutilized individuals in other squads and try to recruit them. He also planned to visit Shin’ō Academy and evaluate some of the upper-year students, hoping to bring promising talents into the squad. When graduation season arrived, they would take in another wave.

Although this couldn’t completely resolve the staffing issue, it alleviated the pressure for the time being. It was no longer as tight as before—no longer did it feel like one person had to be split in half to get the work done.

Only after handling these most pressing matters did Kaiser begin to personally handle the issues that required a Captain’s direct involvement...

…………

West Rukongai, District 79.

On the outskirts of this area, in a remote location, a massacre had just come to an end.

A man wielding a Zanpakutō, yet not wearing a Shihakushō, stood in the middle of a pool of blood. Surrounding him were countless mangled corpses.

“Not enough… totally not enough…”

Dragging his bloodstained Zanpakutō, the man looked around with bloodshot eyes, wearing a crazed expression.

“Is there no one else? No one else for me to kill?”

“Why is there no one?!”

“Come out! All of you, come out! I still want more blood and flesh!”

Roaring like a feral beast, the man emitted a terrifying Reiatsu—one that faintly surpassed Lieutenant level, almost reaching Captain-class.

“I see. No wonder this requires a Captain’s personal involvement. With this level of Reiatsu, it would indeed be dangerous for Iba to face him.”

A voice suddenly rang out, entering the man’s ears. The calm and composed tone stood in stark contrast to the bloody slaughter site.

“Who?!”

The man immediately turned his bloodshot eyes toward the source of the voice, growling lowly.

Then, he saw someone slowly walking toward him.

“You’re Ishino Ginji, right?”

Kaiser looked at the disheveled, ferocious man. Bathed in the wild Reiatsu emanating from him, Kaiser smiled calmly.

“Former Third Seat of Division 11, a devoted supporter of former Captain Kenpachi Kiganjō. After he was killed by the current Captain Kenpachi Zaraki, you fled Division 11, stole forbidden medicine from a noble clan, drastically boosting your strength—but in doing so, lost most of your sanity, becoming an extremely violent criminal.”

“But then again, being violent probably makes no difference to you, right?”

“I’ve heard stories—Kenpachi Kiganjō was already a violent man, abusing his Captain status to bully the weak. As his die-hard supporter, I’m sure you weren’t innocent either. Whether you’re violent or not, it’s all the same to you.”

Upon hearing this, Ishino Ginji’s bloodshot eyes narrowed sharply.

“A white Haori… y-you’re a Captain?”

As a former Shinigami of the Gotei 13, Ishino Ginji certainly knew what it meant to wear a white Haori.

“Division 3 Captain, Kaiser.”

Kaiser stated calmly.

“You’re listed as a dangerous individual marked for execution by Division 2. Unfortunately, Captain Suì-Fēng didn’t have time to come all the way out to the far edge of Rukongai to deal with you. So I’m here to send you off instead.”

Upon hearing this, Ishino Ginji first trembled in fear—then suddenly burst into maniacal laughter.

“Kill me? Just a wet-behind-the-ears brat like you?!”

“Don’t make me laugh!”

“I’ve become stronger using those hidden noble clan drugs! So what if you’re a Captain?!”

Ishino Ginji grinned savagely.

“The me right now is completely different from before!”

As he spoke, Ishino Ginji released his full Reiatsu and charged toward Kaiser.

However—

“Bakudō #61: Rikujōkōrō.”

With a calm chant, Kaiser extended his hand and pointed at Ishino Ginji.

In the next moment, spiritual energy rippled around Ishino Ginji. Six flat rods of light appeared out of thin air, shooting from all directions and stabbing into his waist, pinning him in place.

“Slaughter…!”

Ishino Ginji’s expression changed, and he roared as his Zanpakutō began to transform.

But before he could complete his release, Kaiser cast his Hadō.

“Hadō #4: Byakurai.”

A bolt of lightning shot forth like a beam of light, illuminating the surroundings with its brilliance as it struck Ishino Ginji’s sword arm and pierced straight through it.

“AAAAAHHHHHHHHH…!”

Ishino Ginji screamed in agony, reflexively letting go of his Zanpakutō, which fell to the ground.

“Unfortunately, I have other duties. I don’t have time to stand here and watch your performance.”

Lightning flickered at Kaiser’s fingertip. He shifted his hand from the pierced arm and aimed it at Ishino Ginji’s head.

“You’ve cut down enough people with that blade. Let’s not swing it anymore.”

Kaiser said coldly, “So, goodbye.”

As the words fell, before Ishino Ginji could beg for his life, another bolt of Byakurai burst from Kaiser’s fingertip—piercing the air and blasting straight through Ishino Ginji’s head.

“Thud…”

Blood gushed from Ishino Ginji’s forehead. His eyes bulged wide, and then he collapsed to the ground, completely lifeless.

“Shunpo.”

Without even glancing at the body, Kaiser vanished from the scene.

…………

South Rukongai, the border between Districts 72 and 73.

On a certain street here, two people were fleeing for their lives.

“Run! If we don’t run now, it’ll be too late!”

“Damn it! Why is there a Captain here…?!”

Both were covered in blood, cursing as they fled. Dressed in white coats, it was obvious they were researchers.

“Shunpo.”

Kaiser, wearing a sleeveless white Haori, suddenly appeared in front of the two, casting Kidō without a word.

“Bakudō #63: Sajō Sabaku.”

Several thick spiritual chains surged like dragons from the surroundings, wrapping around the two and binding them tightly.

“You’re the former members of the Shinigami Research and Development Institute wanted by Division 9, aren’t you?” Kaiser stood before them, looking down. “You’re suspected of participating in forbidden research and using its results to secretly murder several high-seated officers. Off to prison with you. Await judgment.”

Kaiser seized the two, ignoring their struggles and curses, and vanished with a Shunpo.

…………

North Rukongai, District 80, outskirts.

This was the northernmost edge of the Soul Society—closest to Zaraki District in North Rukongai’s District 80.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH…!”

A Hollow clad in beastlike armor had appeared at some point, letting out a hollow roar that shook the air.

“Shunpo.”

Kaiser suddenly appeared, looking at the Hollow, whose Reiatsu was extraordinary, and clicked his tongue in amusement.

“Didn’t think there’d really be an Adjuchas-class Hollow hiding out in the Soul Society.”

“If I’d known I had a neighbor like you, I would’ve come to visit before I left Zaraki.”

“Of course, it’s not too late now. The Division 13 Captain responsible for Hollow purification has fallen ill again, so it’s up to me to deal with you.”

Kaiser slowly drew his sword.

“Try to last longer than the last one, alright? Adjuchas.”

As Kaiser spoke mockingly, the Adjuchas let out a furious roar and lunged at him…

Chapter 218: In the Name of Captain

And just like that, Kaiser began to act with great fervor throughout the Soul Society as the Captain of Division 3.

No matter which squad’s duties were handed over to Division 3, if they were designated as tasks requiring the Captain’s personal involvement, Kaiser would complete them with the fastest speed possible—even if they weren’t combat-related.

Whether it was assassinating a dangerous individual, capturing highly wanted fugitives, purifying Hollows, gathering intelligence, or rescuing personnel in critical condition—Kaiser always resolved the matter swiftly.

Sometimes he handled several cases in a single day; sometimes it was one a day. But even when slow, he never delayed more than three days. Kaiser always solved missions that most Shinigami deemed extremely difficult, and he even took on investigations of prohibited industries run by noble clans—an act that would offend many—without the slightest hesitation.

This earned him a few troubles, but each time, Kaiser relied on his own strength to overcome them. None posed a real problem.

Furthermore, with his bold reforms advancing Division 3’s work, Kaiser gradually made a name for himself.

Originally, Kaiser was already quite well-known—as someone praised as the most exceptional genius in a thousand years.

People still talked about how he scored a Second-Class Spiritual Rank on the entrance exam for Shin'ō Academy. It was not something easily forgotten.

But in the eyes of the public, Kaiser’s fame stemmed from being a “genius,” not a “powerhouse.”

Within Seireitei, many still harbored doubts about whether someone like Kaiser—who had only studied at Shin'ō Academy for half a year and lived less than eighteen years in total across life and afterlife—was truly qualified to be a Captain.

Even if not everyone dared speak ill of a Captain behind their backs, Seireitei was full of noble clan scions—fearless and arrogant. They already looked down on a Rukongai-born genius like Kaiser. Now that he’d skyrocketed to the position of Captain? There was no way they could accept that calmly.

Especially those noble families who initially had ideas about recruiting or using Kaiser—now that he had so quickly risen to Captain, they were both shocked and disgruntled.

We haven’t even made our move yet, and he’s already climbed this high? This is ridiculous!

Thus, in the early days of Kaiser’s Captaincy, Seireitei was rife with gossip.

But now, Kaiser had proven himself through actions and shut those people up with his own strength.

Much of his deeds weren’t classified, so they spread easily.

When confronting a dangerous individual who had used forbidden noble medicine to gain power at the cost of sanity—his Reiatsu surpassing even Lieutenants—Kaiser ended the fight in mere seconds, utterly crushing him.

When facing a group of most-wanted criminals involved in illegal research that killed several Shinigami, he captured them cleanly and handed them over to Division 9’s prison unit.

When facing an Adjuchas-class Hollow, he ended it in a few strikes. Even when the Hollow used Cero, it failed to scratch him. Not even the hem of his Haori was damaged.

He cleanly resolved numerous tasks that even Lieutenants would struggle with, proving to all that if he wasn’t qualified to be a Captain, then no one was.

Each of these feats testified to his strength, proving that he was a genuine, full-fledged Captain-level Shinigami.

In this way, Kaiser became the second person after Kenpachi Zaraki to become a Captain without using Bankai—a story that quickly spread.

This time, Kaiser’s fame wasn’t as a “genius,” but as a Shinigami standing at the top of the Soul Society.

From then on, no one doubted whether he was fit to be a Captain. Division 3, in turn, rose with pride. They no longer walked on eggshells. Thanks to their Captain, they became the center of attention. Countless people sought them out, asking questions about Kaiser, making them feel immensely proud.

With the strength-related doubts gone, Kaiser became a true legend, revered and worshipped by many.

Especially among Shin'ō Academy students. Anyone in the same year as Kaiser, or who enrolled after him, would hear tales of his incredible deeds and, influenced by the faculty’s praise, regard him as an idol. Many even decided they wanted to join Division 3 after graduation—much to the delight of Chikane Iba.

Everything in Division 3 grew better and better after Kaiser took command. It even began to show signs of standing out among the other squads, becoming a rising star.

This squad, which had lain dormant and dispirited for decades, finally revived—leaving countless onlookers speechless.

Even Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto personally visited Division 3’s barracks several times, each time departing with a satisfied expression—clearly pleased by the transformation.

Thus, the mountain of backlogged tasks that had weighed down Division 3 for years was finally cleared, allowing Kaiser a moment of respite.

But even with free time, Kaiser wasn’t idle.

Taking advantage of the break in duties, he resumed his past routines—training in Shunpo, practicing Kidō, honing his own strength.

Especially with Kidō, Kaiser made significant progress.

Now that he was a Captain—a top-tier Shinigami—he was qualified to access and study truly formidable spells.

For instance, Kidō beyond the 90s. In the past, Kaiser had no means to study them. Even Shin'ō Academy’s Kidō Corps instructors didn’t know Kidō of that level, leaving Kaiser with tremendous spiritual power and control—but no way to properly use it.

Kidō above #90 was not something just anyone could access. Even Lieutenants were generally unqualified to study them. Only Captains and the Kidō Chief could do so.

Now that Kaiser had the qualifications, he frequently visited the Kidō Corps to pore over the tomes stored there.

Thanks to this, Kaiser’s Kidō skills improved rapidly. He even decided to focus on mastering Kidō and Shunpo simultaneously—so he could proficiently cast those fearsome and highly effective spells.

As for Zanjutsu and Hakuda…

As always, the former required no special training. The latter just needed some light study—there was no need to pour time and effort into it.

“My training from now on should focus on Shunpo and Kidō.”

“Shunpo must be faster than anyone.”

“Kidō must be more refined than anyone.”

Kaiser was full of drive—and ambition.

As long as he could meet these two goals, even if he gained nothing else from this life experience, it would be worth it.

And so the days passed, one by one.

Kaiser completely adapted to his current lifestyle—either actively performing duties out in the field with speed and precision, building a heroic reputation, or diligently cultivating strength behind the scenes.

Sometimes, he even used Gravisheath to create high-gravity environments, training his Shunpo and Kidō under intense conditions. Though grueling, this dramatically boosted his efficiency, stimulated his body’s potential, and increased his physical and spiritual strength—a triple benefit.

Living like this, Kaiser eventually lost track of time. Though not quite to the point of forgetting the date altogether, it was close—he nearly forgot how long he had been at it.

Until one day, that relatively peaceful life was slightly disrupted by a visitor…

…………

On this day, Kaiser had finished his duties early and was training in the courtyard behind Division 3’s barracks.

“Swish!” “Swish!” “Swish!” “Swish!” “Swish!”…

All around the training grounds, countless Kaisers suddenly appeared—some charging forward, some retreating, some leaping skyward, some diving downward. It was as if countless clones were rampaging through this small domain. The sight was nothing short of breathtaking.

Unfortunately, no one could witness it.

When Kaiser used the training grounds, all Division 3 Shinigami—except for Lieutenant Chikane Iba—would vacate the area. None dared intrude.

If someone were to walk in and witness this, their jaw would certainly drop.

Because these countless “Kaisers” weren’t clones at all—but mere afterimages left behind by his rapid movements.

In just an instant, Kaiser had moved through over a hundred positions, executing a hundred motions—his speed utterly astounding.

If Suì-Fēng were here to see it, even she wouldn’t be able to maintain her composure like last time.

This level of Shunpo… even she might not be capable of it.

“Swish!”

In the next moment, all the afterimages vanished. Like swallows returning to a nest, they converged instantly at the center of the training ground, forming a single figure.

“Whew…”

Kaiser exhaled and relaxed his leg muscles, rolling his shoulders and neck.

“That’s enough Shunpo for now. Next, I’ll practice incantation-less casting for Hadō #88 and Bakudō #81.”

Kaiser had set his training plan and began preparing for the next phase.

That was when Chikane Iba entered, delivering a message.

“Captain, a student from Shin'ō Academy claiming to be your acquaintance has come to visit.”

Chikane Iba reported with her usual stern authority.

“A student from Shin'ō Academy?”

Kaiser paused, and a faint smile appeared on his face.

Chapter 219: The Adopted Childhood Friend

Division 3, Office.

At the moment, seated upright before the desk was an Academy student in a Shin'ō Academy uniform, appearing somewhat restless and uneasy.

“So this is Kaiser’s office?”

Renji Abarai looked around the spacious and well-lit room, feeling as though his horizons had been broadened.

It was hard for him to imagine that such a wide and stylish place was now the private office of his former “rival.”

He was still just an Academy student, while the other party already had a personal office like this. Truly, comparing oneself to others only leads to frustration…

As Renji Abarai’s thoughts drifted toward such musings, a set of footsteps echoed from outside.

“How long have you been waiting?”

That familiar teasing voice reached Renji Abarai’s ears, prompting him to quickly look up.

There, Kaiser walked in alongside Chikane Iba, wearing his familiar smile but dressed in a Shihakushō and sleeveless white Haori.

That silhouette, emblematic of standing atop the Soul Society, made Renji Abarai feel slightly dazed—like the person before him was both familiar and unfamiliar, as if he had become the most familiar stranger.

Of course, that was just Renji Abarai’s illusion.

Kaiser was still Kaiser—he had never changed from beginning to end.

“Look at you, still making that dumb expression.” Kaiser sat down in front of Renji Abarai and looked at his dazed face with feigned annoyance. “How long has it been? And you’re still the same as ever?”

“…It hasn’t been that long, right?” Renji Abarai returned to his senses and replied with a wry smile. “I haven’t even graduated yet. This little bit of time shouldn’t count for much for us souls with spiritual power, right?”

The stronger a soul’s Reiryoku, the slower they age—this was a foundational truth of the Soul Society.

“Not bad. You actually used reason to talk back. Seems like you’re not completely unchanged—there’s been some growth.”

Kaiser chuckled as he gestured for Chikane Iba to prepare tea for the two of them.

“Th-thank you.”

Seeing Chikane Iba pour tea for him made Renji Abarai visibly tense up.

He couldn’t help it. The aura of a yakuza matriarch was too strong on her, making Renji feel like he had walked into a gang boss’s lair. He was honestly afraid that if he made one wrong move, he might have a finger chopped off.

Kaiser, of course, understood this feeling. Chikane Iba was known to have used violence to “motivate” the previous Division 3 Captain, and she definitely gave off the vibe of someone who’d seen a lot on the streets.

Unfortunately for her, Kaiser was not the former Captain of Division 3. He didn’t tolerate being pushed around and could be quite forceful when needed. Chikane Iba, knowing this, usually held herself back in front of him—otherwise, conflict would have been inevitable.

“So, what brings you here today?” Kaiser sipped his tea casually, looking at the nervous Renji Abarai with that same teasing smile. “Don’t tell me you just dropped by to chat. I’ve been Captain for a while now, and this is the first time you’ve come to visit.”

…How could an Academy student like me just walk into a Gotei 13 barracks to have tea with a Captain?

Renji Abarai complained in his heart.

“By the way, where are Kira and Hinamori?” Kaiser asked, noticing that Renji came alone. “How are they doing now?”

“They’re doing great,” Renji Abarai answered without hesitation. “After you graduated, Class One finally wasn’t ruled by just you. Everyone started excelling in their own areas.”

“Hinamori is now ranked first in Kidō among students of the same year, with a huge lead over second place.”

“Kira has excellent grades across all subjects—top-tier in every class.”

“As for me, in Kendō, I’m number one across the entire year. Even the sixth-years can’t beat me.”

As he said this, Renji Abarai seemed rather proud.

After Kaiser left, the atmosphere in Class One changed quite a bit—it wasn’t as harmonious anymore.

Those noble brats who used to keep their heads down because of Kaiser’s presence began to reveal their true colors after his departure, resuming their discrimination against Rukongai-born commoners like him.

While no one directly targeted them, Renji still felt the sting of being looked down upon.

That made him quite frustrated. So together with Kira, Hinamori, and others, they took the top spots across the board, thoroughly suppressing the noble students and forcing them to grit their teeth in frustration.

Thinking about that made Renji Abarai feel quite pleased, though he didn’t realize that Chikane Iba was already eyeing him.

To score number one in Zanjutsu across all year levels—even beating sixth-years—this was undoubtedly a promising talent worth focusing on.

“Is that so?” Kaiser remarked, a bit sentimental. “Seems like you’ve all been working hard.”

“Of course.” Renji Abarai finally found his rhythm again. Looking at Kaiser wearing that white Captain’s Haori, he said solemnly, “We didn’t want to be left behind, not even from your shadow. So we had no choice but to push ourselves.”

The things Kaiser said that day had left a deep impression on them.

Because of that, they all worked harder—Renji, Kira, even Momo Hinamori.

Especially Hinamori. Though she was a small girl, she worked even harder than he and Kira. It was like she had found a crucial life goal. She hardly even went home during breaks, often training alone in the Academy.

To be honest, Renji Abarai deeply admired Hinamori—she was even more driven than him.

In terms of Kidō, Hinamori truly had talent. Even the Kidō Corps had started paying attention to her and were considering recruiting her.

Renji Abarai himself had almost zero talent in Kidō. To this day, he was still the worst in his year, and even underclassmen were better than him in that area.

But Renji no longer felt bitter. He had confirmed his own gift lay in Zanjutsu—he was destined to be a swordsman and would walk the path of a blade wielder.

Lately, Renji had even been hearing a voice in his dreams—faint, but seemingly trying to tell him something.

He naturally knew what this phenomenon signified, and it thrilled him.

If Kaiser knew about this, he would surely be amazed again, right?

Among all six years of Shin'ō Academy students, hardly anyone managed to reach Shikai before graduating. Even in the Gotei 13, only Seated Officers typically attained it. Yet Renji Abarai already showed signs of hearing his Zanpakutō’s voice. No wonder he’d go on to master Bankai and become a Captain-level Shinigami.

“That’s good.”

Kaiser smiled and nodded, then returned to the main point.

“So, tell me—why did you come looking for me?”

At those words, Renji Abarai put away his smile, and his expression turned hesitant.

“Hurry up and say it.” Kaiser rolled his eyes. “When did you become such a wishy-washy person?”

“…I just don’t know how to say it,” Renji sighed, then seemed to steel himself as he looked at Kaiser. “Did you know that Rukia was adopted?”

Those words left Kaiser momentarily stunned.

“Rukia was adopted?”

Kaiser met Renji Abarai’s gaze.

“Yeah.” Renji Abarai nodded firmly. “And she was adopted by the Kuchiki Clan, the head of the Four Great Noble Clans.”

Kaiser turned to look at Chikane Iba.

“I’ve heard about this,” she said immediately, catching on. “The Captain of Division 6 visited Shin'ō Academy and formally adopted a student on behalf of the Kuchiki Clan as his younger sister.”

“I believe the name was Kuchiki Rukia?”

“This happened quite a while ago.”

Upon hearing this, Kaiser nodded and muttered to himself.

“So Rukia was finally adopted by the Kuchiki Clan, huh…”

Kuchiki Rukia—that was the full name of the Rukia Kaiser remembered.

“How is she doing now?” Kaiser asked, turning back to Renji.

“Rukia already graduated from Shin'ō Academy,” Renji said gloomily. “Now that she’s the Kuchiki Clan’s daughter, she didn’t need to waste time in the Academy. The Kuchiki family arranged elite Shinigami instructors for her and secured her placement in the Gotei 13.”

“I see.” Kaiser now understood why Renji had come to see him. “So you came to me because you want to know how your childhood friend is doing now?”

“…Something like that.” Renji Abarai hung his head. “Ever since Rukia was adopted by the Kuchiki Clan, I haven’t been able to get any news about her. I had no choice but to come to you and ask for help.”

It really was a rather pitiful situation.

Even though it was only an adoption, Rukia was now a bona fide member of the Kuchiki Clan—a noble, no longer just a Rukongai-born commoner like Renji.

She was now the daughter of the most prestigious noble house. If Renji tried to approach her, he’d probably be blocked—or worse, treated unfairly.

They were childhood friends who grew up together, but now it had come to this. No wonder Renji had come looking for him.

Still, this was probably Renji’s own fault, wasn’t it?

Kaiser vaguely remembered that in the original story, when Rukia was adopted, she asked Renji what he thought. And this guy not only gave her his blessing but also deliberately distanced himself from her afterward.

So now he was just reaping what he sowed?

Thinking that, Kaiser rolled his eyes at Renji again, making the latter feel both confused and lost in thought.

Chapter 220: Is This Really Okay?

Division 6, Barracks.

This was an elegant and pristine building.

It had three floors in total, with one side facing the street. From the street, one could clearly see the windows of the rooms facing the road, and the interior layout was also plainly visible. Each floor’s rooms were nearly square in structure, the window frames made of wood, and the outer wall facing the street was upright, with no balconies or decorative embellishments.

As the barracks of Division 6, which was associated with nobility, the building was neither flashy nor grand, yet its style was unique—conveying a sense that all who resided within possessed noble rationality, exuding aristocratic taste and refinement.

In fact, Division 6’s guiding principle was precisely noble rationality. Though not every squad member came from noble lineage, entering Division 6—which was exclusive to the nobility—meant they were effectively guards of the nobles in Seireitei. Naturally, they could not lose their composure, and even more so, could not lose their dignity.

Maintaining rationality at all times and exhibiting noble character—this was the requirement for every member who joined Division 6.

And upon learning this, Kaiser’s first thought was...

“Not a single one of these traits describes that guy Renji, right?”

Standing before Division 6’s barracks, Kaiser made this remark.

He simply could not imagine where exactly Renji Abarai was noble, where he was rational, or what noble character he supposedly had.

Yet this same guy would, in the future, join Division 6 and even become its Lieutenant…?

Something had to be wrong!

“If the problem isn’t with Renji, then it must be with Byakuya Kuchiki.”

After all, Lieutenants were usually promoted by the Captain. Squad Captains had the authority to directly appoint their Lieutenants—even if that person didn’t have the power level of a Lieutenant.

In other words, if Renji Abarai would become the Lieutenant of Division 6, it would most likely be because Byakuya Kuchiki personally chose him.

Either Renji’s strength had earned Byakuya’s recognition, or Byakuya had learned about his relationship with Rukia and opened a back door for him.

Regardless, Kaiser couldn’t believe Renji was selected for his noble rationality or refined character.

“All things considered, that guy looks more like an Eleventh Squad Shinigami than a Sixth Squad one.”

While internally complaining, Kaiser walked into Division 6’s barracks.

He had already sent someone in advance with a formal visit notice, so no one stopped him, allowing him to walk through Division 6’s barracks unimpeded.

Soon, Kaiser arrived at Division 6’s reception room.

There, he met the person he had come to see.

“…It’s been a while, Captain Kaiser.”

Byakuya Kuchiki was seated before a low wooden table. Upon seeing Kaiser enter, he spoke indifferently.

Beside him, Rukia sat as well. Her expression became somewhat complicated as she looked at Kaiser, who wore a sleeveless Captain’s Haori.

Kaiser glanced at her and noticed that she was no longer wearing the Shin'ō Academy uniform, but instead wore the Shihakushō of a proper Gotei 13 Shinigami. Beside her was also placed an Asauchi.

Judging by her attire, anyone would assume this was a regular member of the Gotei 13, unaware that this “member” had joined through connections, not by graduating from the Shin'ō Academy on merit.

“Long time no see.”

Just like before, Kaiser didn’t sit formally but crossed his legs and sat down. First, he greeted Byakuya Kuchiki, and then turned to Rukia.

“You too—long time no see, Rukia.”

Kaiser’s smiling greeting only made Rukia’s expression more complicated.

“…I apologize for not reaching out sooner, Captain Kaiser.”

After a moment, Rukia bowed to Kaiser with impeccable decorum.

It was a greeting she would never have used in the past—one used only by nobles.

Clearly, after being adopted by the Kuchiki Clan, whether or not she had been trained to be a proper Shinigami remained unclear, but she had certainly been molded into a proper noble. Otherwise, the elders of the Kuchiki Clan would never have allowed her to meet guests, for fear of disgracing the family.

“That kind of talk doesn’t really work on me, you know?” Kaiser smiled and said, “The one you owe an apology to isn’t me, but a certain idiot who’s worried sick about you.”

Rukia naturally understood who Kaiser was referring to.

But her lips moved a few times, and in the end, she fell silent, saying nothing.

Seeing this, Kaiser gave her a few meaningful glances before turning to Byakuya.

“Looks like the Kuchiki Clan taught her plenty—so much so that she has to carefully weigh her words before speaking.”

Kaiser’s pointed comment made not only Rukia’s face subtly shift but also caused Byakuya Kuchiki to raise his eyes and look at him.

“Is Captain Kaiser dissatisfied with the Kuchiki Clan’s methods of instruction?”

Byakuya spoke expressionlessly.

“Whether I am or not doesn’t matter, does it?” Kaiser shook his head and said, “Even if I had complaints, that’s a matter for someone else’s family. What right do I have to interfere?”

“Besides, even as a Captain, I’m not allowed to meddle too much in noble affairs—especially those of the Great Noble Clans. That’s something even the Captain Commander specifically warned me about.”

“Isn’t that right, Head of the Kuchiki Clan?”

At this, Byakuya said nothing about the implication behind Kaiser’s words, merely replied flatly:

“You are not of Division 6, so naturally you have no authority to question noble affairs, much less the internal matters of the Kuchiki Clan.”

This was not a warning—just a statement of fact.

Noble-related matters were generally under the jurisdiction of Division 6; other squads truly had no right to interfere.

Of course, Division 3 had some exceptions.

“Harsh words to say to someone who’s already exposed a noble clan or two.”

Kaiser chuckled as he said this, causing Byakuya Kuchiki to furrow his brow.

“Is that why you came here today?”

Byakuya was clearly displeased.

“Of course not,” Kaiser replied breezily, as if he hadn’t noticed. “I just came to see how my old friend from Academy days is doing. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have specifically requested in the invitation for your sister to attend, right?”

Byakuya said no more and closed his eyes.

As for Rukia, when Kaiser looked her way, her gaze instinctively avoided his.

“…I’m doing well. Thank you for your concern, Captain Kaiser.”

That’s what she said.

Unfortunately, her melancholic demeanor made it clear she was anything but well.

There was no helping it—Rukia was, after all, a commoner from Rukongai, and not just any district but the extremely impoverished District 78. Entering the Kuchiki Clan with that background—how could she possibly be treated kindly?

While no one would dare openly bully her, behind the scenes, she had undoubtedly been looked down on, shunned, and likely insulted.

The Kuchiki Clan was the foremost of the Four Great Noble Clans. Its members were full of pride. Especially the clan elders—no doubt they had deliberately made things difficult for Rukia, viewing her inclusion as a disgrace to the family.

But the decision to adopt Rukia had come from Byakuya Kuchiki himself. With the most exceptional successor in the history of the clan backing her, no matter how much dissent there was, it was ultimately meaningless.

And it wasn’t just within the clan—Rukia surely faced plenty of gossip from outsiders as well.

After all, she was placed into the Gotei 13 purely through the Kuchiki Clan’s arrangement.

This blatant backdoor entry had surely made countless people look down on her—it didn’t take much imagination to guess.

Poor Rukia. She had only entered the Academy to pursue a better life, aspiring to become a Shinigami. In the end, she was adopted by the most prestigious noble family—something others could only dream of. Though her living conditions now surpassed anyone’s, she still seemed unfulfilled and burdened.

“Is this really okay, Captain Kuchiki?”

Kaiser raised the cup of tea Rukia had personally prepared and sipped as he spoke casually.

“Adopting her like this… doesn’t seem to be entirely in her best interest, does it?”

Kaiser’s pointed comment made Byakuya Kuchiki open his eyes.

“This is the business of the Kuchiki Clan.”

Byakuya coldly emphasized.

However, Kaiser calmly set down his teacup and gave a half-smile.

“Are you sure it’s the business of the Kuchiki Clan… and not your business?”

Kaiser suddenly said, “Or should I say… are you sure this isn’t about your deceased wife?”

The moment those words left his mouth, Byakuya’s Reiatsu instantly turned icy cold.

“Deceased… wife…”

Rukia murmured.

She knew that Byakuya Kuchiki had a wife who had passed away not long ago.

She knew because he had told her that the reason he wanted to adopt her was because she resembled his late wife.

Rukia assumed that’s what Kaiser was referring to.

But she was wrong.

“Seems like you don’t know yet, Rukia.”

Kaiser, as if unconcerned about any taboo, spoke directly to her.

“Captain Kuchiki’s late wife… was actually your—”

Before he could finish, the icy Reiatsu erupting from across him surged to its peak.

“Wha—?!”

The sudden terrifying pressure made Rukia’s mind buzz, causing her to briefly lose consciousness.

Because of that, she didn’t see a figure suddenly reach for Kaiser’s neck at blinding speed.

Kaiser, almost simultaneously, raised his hand and caught the wrist of that hand.

But its owner instantly lashed out with the other hand and grabbed Kaiser by the shoulder.

“Whoosh!”

The next moment, both figures vanished simultaneously, seemingly blasting through to the outside—one of the windows flung open.

“Captain Kaiser? Brother?”

Rukia finally regained her senses, only to find an empty room.

She stood frozen.

(End of Chapter)