Death: Starting as the Guardian of Avici Hell

In a sense, the two are like-minded.

"Actually, I didn't think about it too much."

Naraku Sora placed his hands behind his head and said in a calm tone:

"Establishing a perfect system is too unrealistic; I can only say that I can't stand those behaviors."

"Some people sacrifice the lives of others for their own selfish gain; the incompetent sit high on the throne; the foolish act recklessly and arrogantly..."

"It's less about upholding justice and more about being disgusted by those people and their actions."

"If I had to say what I wanted to do, it would probably be to kill all those guys I don't like."

Aizen paused for a moment, and after a brief silence, a barely perceptible smile appeared on his lips.

Chapter 61 Use that on him.

Two days earlier, in Seireitei, on the streets...

Even after barely escaping, Takeda Satoru was still shaken, glancing back every now and then.

It was as if some monster was chasing him.

Even now, Takeda Satoru doesn't understand what the other party did. His Zanpakuto, which was originally inseparable from his life, suddenly went out of control, and the pain of his Bankai being abruptly released still lingers in his body.

After several heavy breaths, he looked at the Ninth Division members behind him with complex expressions and let out a hoarse voice caused by fear:

"You all return to the barracks first. I will go and report what happened at the manor to Captain-Commander Yamamoto."

The Death Squad members responded in hushed tones, and then collectively headed towards the barracks.

Watching the departing figures of the group, Takeda Satoru knew very well that his standing among the members had been severely affected.

Once word gets out about what happened today, their standing in the Gotei 13 will likely decline.

At that time, the respect and admiration that should have been enjoyed may vanish, leaving only endless accusations and contempt behind the scenes.

The only solution is to defeat that woman named Shutara Senjumaru head-on.

But whenever he had such thoughts, a phantom pain would faintly emanate from his soul, as if reminding him of the terrible experience he had just had.

Takeda Satoki waited until the figures of the squad members had completely disappeared from sight before leaving his original position, but he did not go to the First Squad's barracks.

Instead, it changed direction midway.

Noble Street.

Unlike the other streets in this area, when Takeda Satoru stepped onto this road, there was no one else around.

Only Takeda Satoki was moving forward alone.

Despite the lack of guards and checks, he still felt as if he were being watched by countless eyes.

The roadside on both sides is piled with magnificent gardens and landscapes that ordinary souls can hardly see in their entire lives. Even though Takeda Satoru has been here many times, he is still attracted by the scenery here.

At the break of dawn, the gardeners serving the nobility would begin their hard work, dedicating all their skills to the entire road, maintaining the work in its most perfect condition, daring not to slacken in the slightest.

When Takeda Satoru reached the end of the road, the majestic mansion lay coiled like a sleeping behemoth, and a heavy sense of oppression washed over him.

The more you observe, the more you realize your own insignificance.

This is the true essence of nobility!

Servants were already waiting at the door and led Takeda Satoru into the reception room, where they served him tea and refreshments.

"The Lord will arrive shortly. Please be patient and wait."

After saying this, the servant respectfully took his leave, his every move seemingly carried out in accordance with established rules and regulations, without the slightest error.

Takeda Satoru let out a long breath and calmed down.

Before long, an undisguised surge of spiritual pressure swept in, and even from a great distance, one could still sense the heavy and terrifying aura that enveloped the entire reception room.

"Unexpected factors must have arisen, Lord Takeda."

Although the newcomer looked old, he was full of energy, and a flash of lightning seemed to pass through his sharp eyes.

"Otherwise, you wouldn't have come to see me."

Takeda Satoshi's aura was completely overwhelmed by the other party, and he nodded respectfully, giving a detailed account of what had happened at the Yokota family manor.

"Another deal has run into trouble."

The old man's expression was calm, and there was no fluctuation in his eyes, as if he had long anticipated this event.

"But it doesn't matter, the loss is just some insignificant things."

"Shutara Senjumaru will soon be heading to the Soul King Palace and promoted to a member of the Zero Division. At that time, I will seize control of the Shinigami Prison through the Shinigami 46 Chambers."

"Those noble members will only have to endure a few more days of punishment; consider it a chance to calm their minds."

"Let the Moriyama family handle the contact with Hueco Mundo."

"Lord Takeda, I hope you will keep running around during this time. This is Moriyama's first time dealing with this kind of thing, and there is a possibility of oversights. I will be relying on you then."

Despite the significant difference in their social standing, and despite Takeda Satoki's consistent treatment of him as a subordinate, the old man's attitude never changed for any reason.

Even if he did not complete the task assigned to him.

Takeda Satoki was somewhat flattered and bowed his head to accept the order, memorizing all the details the old man had given him, so as to ensure that a similar incident would not happen again.

"Lord Takeda, never forget our pursuit."

"The Soul Society is merely a confining cage; a far more expansive and boundless world awaits us. The unfulfilled aspirations of our ancestors will ultimately be realized in our generation."

"At that time, you will see a whole new world!"

Takeda Satoshi took a deep breath, suppressing his inner turmoil, bowed respectfully, and turned to leave the mansion.

Over the next two days, Takeda Satoki compiled the events at the manor into a dossier, handed it over to the First Division, and sincerely expressed that he had realized his mistake.

They shouldn't have attacked Naraku's sixth seat before they understood the whole story.

The First Division also gave the corresponding punishment, which Takeda Satoki gladly accepted, and the matter seemed to have come to an end.

However, when he left the Ninth Division to go to Rukongai to negotiate with the Moriyama family, he happened to pass by a relatively secluded alley.

A strong sense of crisis rose in his heart, and without any hesitation, Takeda Satoru instinctively unleashed his strongest spiritual pressure.

A surging, dazzling beam of light shot straight into the sky, and the unrestrained torrent of spiritual pressure instantly crushed the surrounding buildings, even causing the clouds drifting across the sky to dissipate completely.

Even so, the intense sense of crisis in my heart did not subside, but instead intensified.

A simple, unadorned sword pressure appeared out of nowhere, cutting off the torrent of spiritual pressure like a hot blade of butter.

scoff-

With a sound like tearing silk, scalding blood gushed out.

The gruesome wound stretched from the shoulder blade all the way down to the abdomen, a truly terrifying sight.

The intense pain triggered an unprecedented instinct in Takeda Satoki, and before the attacker could inflict even more serious damage—

He suddenly drew his sword.

The spiritual pressure, carrying the blade, swept through the alleyways with a fierce impact, causing countless buildings to collapse in an instant, while also giving Takeda Satoru a chance to catch his breath.

From the empty shadows, a figure shrouded in ghostly light slowly emerged. He stood with his sword in hand and unleashed a slash without warning.

Who are you?!

Takeda Satoki retaliated angrily, unleashing a torrent of intense spiritual pressure that crashed down on the figure like a burst dam, causing the surrounding earth to groan in agony under its immense weight.

Countless cracks spread out from the center of the battle.

After a few brief clashes, Takeda Satoshi realized that his opponent was not as strong as he had imagined.

Despite his superb swordsmanship and masterful Shunpo technique, there is still a flaw that cannot be considered a weakness.

The spiritual pressure is slightly weaker.

Under the cover of the demonic spiritual pressure, Aizen frowned. No wonder Naraku, with his extraordinary abilities, still suffered a setback at Takeda Satoru's hands.

This veteran captain seems to be very strong.

Try that one.

Aizen's gaze deepened.

Chapter 62 My life has been like walking on thin ice

Takeda Satoki frowned, enduring the excruciating pain coursing through his body.

If he hadn't dodged in time during the sneak attack, he would have been cut in two instantly.

Countless years of combat experience have made dodging danger an instinct.

Although he is seriously injured, he still has the advantage of timing and location. He only needs to stall for a few more breaths before the other Grim Reapers arrive.

That's enough, damn it.

Takeda Goki forcibly sealed the wound with his spiritual pressure, temporarily stopping the bleeding. The moment he swung his arm and slashed, the spiritual pressure he carried suddenly increased, and the heavy sense of oppression crushed Aizen like a mountain.

This is the true strength of a veteran captain!

Although I don't know who you are or why you attacked me, it's obvious you chose the wrong opponent.

Aside from a few monsters in the Gotei 13 and that dangerous Shutara Senjumaru, I, Takeda Satoru, have never feared anyone.

So, go to hell.

Faced with that suffocating sense of oppression, Aizen lowered his gaze slightly, maintaining his composure and calmness from beginning to end, as if the battle before him was nothing more than an ordinary practice session.

The dormant spiritual pressure flowed over like water, gurgling and wrapping around the blade.

Straight black streaks emerged from all around, instantly weaving together mottled patterns, and the air suddenly became heavy, like surging mercury.

He raised his eyes and swung his arm in a slashing motion.

A jet-black sword pressure erupted from the blade, and in an instant, only deathly silence remained on the street, as if even sound had been severed.

At this moment, a hint of panic finally flashed in Takeda Satoshi's eyes.

His prized sword pressure technique was as fragile as paper, and was effortlessly severed. Moreover, the strange sword pressure continued its relentless attack on him.