Bleach: The Invincible Slacker from Rukongai

Uehara Shiroha had anticipated that he might trigger a special mission upon arriving in Hueco Mundo.

After all, this realm was a crucial part of the world of Bleach—a place filled with powerful Hollows and secrets waiting to be uncovered.

However, what he hadn't expected was that the mission would be triggered through Ise Nanao.

Glancing at her with a subtle expression, Uehara Shiroha raised an eyebrow.

'Could this literary girl really be a walking luck magnet?'

Though the thought was amusing, he quickly dismissed it.

Regardless of how it happened, a special mission was always a welcome opportunity.

Noticing his gaze, Ise Nanao tilted her head in confusion.

"Why did you say this is a branch?" she asked, looking at the strange stone-like tree in front of them.

Uehara Shiroha, still in a good mood, patiently explained.

"Hueco Mundo is actually divided into two layers—the surface and the underground," he began.

"The surface is the vast desert we're standing in, populated mainly by small Hollows. But beneath this sand lies an immense underground forest—a place known as The Forest of Menos."

Ise Nanao's expression shifted as she processed this information.

"In this Forest of Menos, there are countless Gillians—as well as massive stone trees that stretch endlessly. Their branches and roots grow upwards, breaking through the surface of the desert to form these structures."

She swallowed, a sense of unease creeping over her. "Forest of Menos? Teacher Uehara… is this the same Great Hollow I'm thinking of?"

She had only seen illustrations of Gillian-class Menos in her textbooks at the Shin'ō Academy of Spiritual Arts.

Those books stated that only captains or the Royal Special Forces could handle such monsters.

If that was true…

Then weren't they in extreme danger?

Uehara Shiroha shook his head, a small smirk forming on his lips.

"Those books are ancient relics," he scoffed. "Outdated—just like Captain Yamamoto."

Ise Nanao's eyes widened in shock at the casual insult toward the Captain-Commander. But before she could speak, Uehara continued.

"'It's better to have no books than to blindly believe in them.' You'll understand when you experience it for yourself."

She frowned, sensing the underlying message.

The academy's textbooks were designed to instill fear—likely to prevent students from underestimating Hollows and charging into battle recklessly.

However, the claim that only captains could fight Gillians was an exaggeration.

"The truth is," Uehara continued, "a Vice-Captain-class Shinigami can take down a Gillian. If you count Vice-Captains as captains, then the academy's statement isn't completely wrong."

Ise Nanao hesitated, but before she could respond, a third voice joined the conversation.

"Well, you're about to experience it firsthand."

The voice was calm yet sharp.

Both Uehara and Nanao turned to see Kyoraku Shunsui, standing beside them silently.

His usual laid-back demeanor was gone, replaced by seriousness.

"The Intelligence Team just sent an emergency message," Kyoraku said in a low tone. "They were attacked by Hollows and are requesting support."

His eyes darkened slightly.

"Looks like we aren't welcome here."

Uehara Shiroha let out a small chuckle, completely unfazed.

"In that case," he said, stretching lazily, "I guess I'll go greet them properly."

Without waiting for further orders, he turned and began walking toward the source of the disturbance—toward the abnormal Reiatsu fluctuations in the distance.

"Nanao, let's go."

Ise Nanao followed without hesitation.

But as they drew closer, the oppressive spiritual pressure in the air grew heavier.

It was chaotic, overwhelming, suffocating.

The dense malicious aura surrounding them felt like a predator's hunger—an insatiable craving for flesh and souls.

Ise Nanao's breathing grew uneven.

Her steps faltered.

Her mind filled with terrifying images—the horrors she had read about in books.

Hollows devouring Shinigami alive.

Shinigami being absorbed into a collective mass of monsters, never to be seen again.

Her body felt heavy—her limbs sluggish.

She was paralyzed.

Uehara Shiroha's voice snapped her out of it.

"If you're scared, you can go back," he said, his voice completely unemotional.

There was no mockery.

No reassurance.

No kindness.

It was a simple statement of fact.

The only way to overcome fear was to face it.

For a moment, Ise Nanao hesitated.

Then, she clenched her fists and took a deep breath.

"I will always follow your footsteps, Mr. Uehara. I will not fall behind—not even a step."

Uehara Shiroha nodded slightly.

"Good," he said. "But it's not enough to ignore fear."

He glanced at her with sharp eyes.

"I want you to face it head-on."

Before Ise Nanao could process his words, they arrived at the edge of a battlefield.

The sight before them was chaos.

In the valley beyond the rolling sand dunes, a fierce battle was raging.

A squad of 11th Division Shinigami fought desperately against three towering monsters.

Each of the creatures stood over a hundred meters tall, their cloaked bodies draped in shadows.

Their clown-like white masks—grotesque and unnatural—marked them as Gillian-class Menos.

Hundreds of smaller Hollows swarmed around them, further dividing the battlefield into scattered skirmishes.

Madarame Ikkaku and Ayasegawa Yumichika were at the frontlines.

Ikkaku, his Zanpakutō released, fought relentlessly.

Though Hōzukimaru lacked raw power, Ikkaku's combat expertise compensated for its shortcomings.

Against smaller Hollows, he cut them down like weeds.

But against the towering Gillians?

Even he struggled.

His expression tightened.

"Damn it…" he muttered. "Captain Zaraki already took out their leader, so what the hell are we wasting time here for?!"

He turned toward his comrades, shouting:

"Stop holding back! We don't have time for this crap—fight harder! If any of you slack off, I'll kill you myself!"

Ayasegawa Yumichika, while fighting beside him, commented dryly:

"I understand your frustration, but why are these things so ugly?" He scowled at the massive masks. "These clowns are ruining my sense of aesthetic balance."

Despite his lighthearted words, his gaze remained sharp.

He had already noticed something off.

'Their Hierro (iron skin) is stronger than usual.'

'And their regeneration speed… it's too fast.'

The battle was dragging out, turning into a war of attrition.

In the distance, the Noble Intelligence Team—the ones who had sent the distress signal—were already dead.

They had been wiped out entirely.

But their sacrifice wasn't in vain.

At the very least, they had bought time for the expeditionary force.

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