"D-Damn you bandits!"
The skinny Asakaedo clan head lay on the ground, his left arm and leg completely gone, blood flowing endlessly from the severed areas.
In the center of the hall, corpses with various death wounds lay everywhere. The overpowering smell of rust and blood filled the air, making one's chest feel tight.
He struggled to raise his head, looking at the excessively young figure before him, his eyes nearly popping out as he screamed hoarsely: "Soul Society will definitely av-avenge me..."
"Thud."
Kuriyashiki Ryūma turned his blade and stabbed it into the old man's back, pinning his last breath to the ground.
The skinny body trembled for a while, then went still.
"So talkative," the small boy muttered.
Beside him, other Yuan Liu Soul Reapers who had completed their missions were running back and forth inside and outside the hall, carrying materials needed by the Yuan Zishu.
One by one, huge wooden boxes were piled in the courtyard outside the hall, forming a rather impressive small mountain.
This was merely the inventory of a single upper-level noble family.
"Whoosh—"
While Fujimiya's squad members were busy, a figure appeared in the courtyard using flash step.
Kuriyashiki Ryūma was initially wary, but after detecting the familiar spiritual pressure, he immediately relaxed.
"Instructor Fujimiya!"
"Why so slow today?"
This kid had no idea what politeness meant.
Fujimori casually raised his hand, throwing the person he'd been carrying on his shoulder to the ground, saying: "Met someone tough."
"Ryūma, have Ando treat his wounds."
"Are we taking this one back?" Kuriyashiki Ryūma looked at him strangely.
Previously, Instructor Fujimori had never shown mercy to these nobles.
Today this one... he thought, glancing down.
Severely wounded, but still breathing.
"Yes."
Fujimori nodded, "This is the new head of the Shiba family. His head should contain plenty of intelligence. We need to have Shudora's people extract it."
"Don't let him die."
"Understood."
As Fujimori spoke, he strode into the hall, where a middle-aged Soul Reaper immediately flash-stepped to his side:
"Instructor Fujimiya."
"The remaining Asakaedo family members have escaped toward the western exit."
"According to the predetermined plan, they should meet the target forces in a day."
"Good."
Fujimori nodded upon hearing this, turning to look at the squad members busy transporting materials: "Then continue resting here for the night. Remember to take shifts on watch."
"Yes," the middle-aged Soul Reaper immediately acknowledged.
Fujimori looked toward the deep night outside the window, still feeling somewhat uneasy.
In the Soul Society, a world of supernatural abilities, "finding" enemy forces wasn't difficult.
Whether using Bakudō #58: Kakushitsuijaku or #77: Tenteikūra, both could serve "search" and "communication" purposes to a large extent.
The real difficulty was how to capture the enemy.
Therefore, as the advance elite reconnaissance squad for the main Yuan Liu forces, Fujimiya's squad's highest priority wasn't sweeping through nobles or raiding their territories, but luring Soul Society's main forces.
In other words—being "bait."
Extremely dangerous.
Deliberately letting some noble family members escape to lure the real combat units was a common tactic.
But whether because today's operation went too smoothly, or because they hadn't detected any trace of enemy elite units moving along the way, Fujimori couldn't help but feel uneasy.
"Cough cough... huff... huff..."
Suddenly, Shiba Yataka, who had been thrown to the ground, began breathing with difficulty, his chest rising and falling like a broken bellows, his face visibly pale.
With a dark expression, he looked at Fujimori and said:
"You should escape quickly."
"According to the original plan, the reassigned front-line commander should arrive tomorrow... huff... By then, you won't be able to escape."
"As for the Asakaedo family's crimes..." at this point, Shiba Yataka's gaze seemed to dim, "the Shiba family will have Central 46 handle it."
"Hmph."
Fujimori laughed dismissively: "What good will that do?"
Shiba Yataka was stunned, unable to respond for a moment.
During this silence, a childish voice with barely suppressed excitement suddenly sounded from Fujimiya's waist, rapidly chanting:
[Thief haha! Thief hahahaha!]
[That's right!]
[Losers eat dust! You think mere confession is enough?]
[Hah! My master Fujimori exhausted his strength to beat you to your knees, so of course he's taking you back as redemption for his star-rage power!]
Fujimori nodded slightly at the beginning.
Until the last sentence, when his face immediately crumbled, nearly spitting out blood.
"Shut up!"
The voice immediately quieted.
Not just the little broken sword's.
The Yuan Liu Soul Reapers transporting materials around them also turned to look, instinctively stopping. Those subtle gazes seemed to have weight, making Fujimori feel like daggers were stabbing his back.
Shiba Yataka's eyes widened even more, nearly popping out.
His already poor complexion instantly turned pale.
Originally, he had somewhat resigned himself to his fate.
Now thinking carefully, maybe he should try to escape?
Only Kuriyashiki Ryūma, the little simpleton, pointed outside and kindly reminded: "Instructor Fujimori, I just saw some women on the ground outside."
"They just died, still warm."
Fujimori knocked him on the head with a "thunk":
"You brat, where did you learn such things!"
"Uncle Sato told me that last time," Kuriyashiki Ryūma immediately sold out the mischievous uncle.
Fujimori swept a fierce glare at him, and Squad Member Sato immediately shrank his neck, pretending he heard nothing, and quickly ran outside.
"Go! All of you go back to work!"
"Don't you want to rest anymore?!"
The squad members immediately scattered.
Fujimori himself half-squatted in front of Shiba Yataka, slowly drawing the sword at his waist, smiling and gesturing to him:
"Lord Shiba, you just heard what my sword said."
"Next, I'll ask you a few small questions."
"If you're not truthful..."
"See this sword?"
Fujimori viciously stabbed the sword tip into the ground, hardening his heart, with a fierce expression:
"White blade goes in! Yellow blade comes out!"
"Understand?"
After everything he'd experienced, he no longer cared about his image.
Since the little broken sword wanted to pursue perversion, he'd go all the way!
"..."
Before Shiba Yataka could react, the little broken sword at his waist suddenly trembled, screaming loudly.
[Eh?! Wait wait wait—]
[No! Don't stab me until I'm a yellow blade! ■■■ Don't make me dirty!]
[That kind of thing isn't allowed!]
[Lord Fujimiya! Master! Dog Xiujin! Master!]
[Spare me!]
The originally extremely unrestrained childish voice now carried a pleading, pitiful tone for the first time.
Kuriyashiki Ryūma stood beside them, shaking his head with obvious disappointment.
Lord Fujimiya's taste was worse than a child's.
Fujimori heard the little broken sword's words and was momentarily stunned. Before his face could show any joy, his hand instinctively grabbed the sword hilt, suddenly rolling to the side.
At the same time, Kuriyashiki Ryūma standing to the side tensed his entire body.
"Bang—"
Almost as Fujimori rolled away, a punch full of explosive power struck his previous position like thunder, creating a huge crater in the ground with a violent boom.
Debris flew everywhere as shock waves rippled outward in all directions.
Fujimori half-crouched on the ground, sliding out over ten meters from the momentum of his roll, his sword held across his chest as he looked up.
"Well."
"You actually dodged that attack?"
"Not bad."
As the dust settled, a tall man with dark skin, white hair, wearing a scarf and long earrings stood in front of Shiba Yataka. His voice was flippant.
A confident smile on his face.
Fujimiya's left thumb slowly traced his own face, licking the blood flowing from his fingertip.
He hadn't completely dodged.
But it wasn't surprising, considering who stood before him.
He looked at the dark-skinned man in the crater.
Shihōin Senjitsu.
The fastest man in Soul Society.
The moment the voice sounded inside, a series of shouts and killing cries also erupted outside the hall.
"Hey!"
Shihōin Senjitsu had one hand in his pocket, the other carrying his sword over his shoulder. With a casual expression, he jerked his chin at Fujimori and said arrogantly:
"Your strength isn't bad."
"Tell me your name."