Bleach: The Invincible Slacker from Rukongai

Amidst the sand dunes, Uehara Shiroha stood unmoving as the massive Hollow ice sculptures shattered into countless fragments.

The impact sent shimmering blue Reiatsu cascading through the air like a celestial snowfall, filling the battlefield with an eerie glow. The purified spirits, freed from their monstrous existence, began their journey back to Soul Society.

As a Shinigami, his duty was not just to slay but to purify—to cleanse the sins of lost souls. Even Hollows deserved that release.

His spiritual power surged as he absorbed the residual energy.

"This should be enough to increase my overall strength…"

Before, he had withstood the Cero of a low-tier Gillian. But now? Perhaps even the Cero of an Adjuchas—the mid-tier Menos Grande—wouldn't be enough to harm him.

Just as he was contemplating this, a familiar voice broke through the silence.

"Mr. Uehara…!"

Ise Nanao rushed toward him, tears still brimming in her eyes.

Her emotions were in turmoil—not just from shock at his overwhelming power, but from the sheer relief of seeing him alive. Moments ago, she had truly believed she would lose him forever.

Uehara Shiroha turned to her, his voice calm as ever.

"Now, now, Nanao, why are you crying? Everything's taken care of, isn't it?" His gaze drifted over the assembled Shinigami. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Or… did someone bully you?"

The Shinigami of the 11th Division, including Madarame Ikkaku, instinctively took a step back.

As if on cue, the group shifted just enough to leave Ayasegawa Yumichika standing out in the open.

"You absolute bastards," Yumichika thought, his expression blank.

He sighed heavily, then forced a smile. "Haha… You misunderstand, Mr. Uehara. We were just, um… appreciating your strength?"

If looks could kill, he was certain he'd already be ascending to Soul Society as Reiatsu, much like the Hollows before him.

Thankfully, Nanao stepped in to diffuse the moment.

"Teacher Uehara… I wasn't being bullied. I was just too worried about you…" She wiped her eyes, her voice trembling slightly.

Uehara Shiroha gave her a small nod. "There was no need to worry. No matter how many come… it's all the same to me."

Just as he said that—

A booming, wild voice cut through the desert wind.

"Hah! Now this is interesting. Very, very interesting!"

The air itself seemed to tighten.

A feral, untamed spiritual pressure crashed over them like a tidal wave, thick with murderous intent.

Everyone turned their heads toward the source.

A towering, beast-like figure stood bathed in moonlight, resting a jagged blade on his shoulder.

His wild golden eyes gleamed with excitement beneath the black eyepatch covering his right eye.

His hair—spiked like jagged blades—clinked softly with the sound of small bells attached to the ends.

As he took a step forward, the pressure intensified.

A sensation like cold steel pressing against their throats sent shivers through the gathered Shinigami.

Only one man in all of Soul Society exuded such an aura.

A man of battle.

A man who lived for the thrill of the fight.

"Boss Zaraki!"

"Captain Zaraki!"

The Shinigami of the 11th Division erupted in recognition, their voices filled with both reverence and unease.

Kenpachi Zaraki, Captain of the 11th Division, had arrived.

The tension was suffocating.

One by one, the 11th Division members hurriedly recounted Uehara Shiroha's unbelievable feat—how he had single-handedly frozen fifty Gillians with a single strike.

For the first time since arriving, Kenpachi's wild grin faltered just slightly.

His golden eye narrowed.

Then, his expression twisted into pure exhilaration.

He vanished—

—and in an instant, reappeared directly in front of Uehara Shiroha.

His breath was heavy with excitement, his towering frame looming over the silver-haired Shinigami.

"You," Zaraki growled, his grin widening.

"So it was you who took down fifty Hollows with one sword strike?"

A mad glint flickered in his eyes.

His fingers tightened around the hilt of his massive blade.

"Damn…! First you get dessert, and now you get a feast?!"

His voice boomed across the battlefield, a mixture of admiration and sheer bloodlust.

"Man, you're so damn lucky!"

The air itself trembled.

In the next second—

An explosion of spiritual pressure erupted from Zaraki's body, painting the entire landscape blood red.

The sky darkened.

The moon above seemed to bleed, bathed in the overwhelming aura of his fighting spirit.

His laughter echoed through the night.

"Come on! Fight me!"

Ise Nanao gasped.

A chilling sensation pierced her chest, as if a cold blade had stabbed straight through her heart.

Her breath hitched. Her vision blurred.

Her knees buckled.

The sheer weight of Zaraki's bloodlust was too much.

Already weakened from exhaustion, her body gave out.

She began to fall—

—but before she could hit the ground, a strong arm caught her.

A gentle warmth enveloped her as Uehara Shiroha held her steady.

With a quiet sigh, he lightly patted her head. A soft white light pulsed from his palm.

In an instant—

Her mind cleared.

Her breath steadied.

The overwhelming fatigue that had consumed her moments ago vanished.

Nanao looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude.

Then—without hesitation—she quickly moved behind him, using him as a shield.

Because against Kenpachi Zaraki, there was no way in hell she was stepping forward.

"Before we begin, allow me to ask you a question."

Facing the bloodthirsty and battle-hungry Kenpachi Zaraki, Uehara Shiroha remained calm, his expression betraying neither fear nor excitement.

"Kenpachi, do you know the difference between a king and a mount?"

Zaraki's wild grin remained unchanged as his lone, uncovered eye narrowed with amusement.

"I don't know. Does it matter?" he asked indifferently. "Are you stalling for time? Or have you run out of energy already? If that's the case, I don't mind waiting. Take a breather."

Uehara Shiroha chuckled. Of course, Zaraki wouldn't care. He wasn't the type to think about abstract things like that. He was a pure Shinigami—his only joy in life came from the thrill of combat, the rush of a blade meeting resistance, the sensation of narrowly escaping death.

Unfortunately, Uehara had no interest in entertaining a lunatic like him.

Fighting someone like Kenpachi Zaraki, who thrived on battle and constantly grew stronger the longer a fight dragged on, was simply pointless. His absurd durability, monstrous reiatsu, and his unyielding will to fight made him an annoying opponent. Even if Uehara went all out and managed to kill him in one blow, there would be no true gain from such a victory.

And if he won?

He would have to bear the consequences—because, by the traditions of the 11th Division, the one who defeats Kenpachi must take his place as captain.

Looking at the wild bunch of rough men behind Zaraki, with their fierce faces, scarred bodies, and bizarre hairstyles, Uehara felt his stomach churn.

Like hell I'm taking that position.

"I see. You really don't understand," Uehara finally said, shaking his head. "You're not even qualified to make me draw my sword."

Kenpachi's grin widened, his fingers twitching around the hilt of his jagged blade.

"You sure talk big."

There was no mockery in his tone—only pure disappointment. He truly didn't understand why someone strong would reject the opportunity to fight.

"What a shame," he sighed. "You're strong, yet you don't enjoy battle. What a waste!"

Then, as if granting a rare favor, he smirked and added, "Whenever you change your mind, come find me. I'll be waiting. And to make it fair, I'll even let you take the first swing."

At that moment, a high-pitched, playful voice suddenly chimed in from behind Kenpachi.

"Kenchan is really generous!"

A small figure appeared, clinging to Kenpachi's shoulder—a pink-haired girl with large, mischievous eyes and rosy cheeks.

"Vice-Captain!"

Madarame Ikkaku and the other squad members were visibly startled.

"You were here the whole time?!"

The pink-haired girl giggled and gave a playful wave.

Ise Nanao, who had been observing the exchange in silence, looked at the child in astonishment.

A little girl? The vice-captain of the 11th Division?

She adjusted her glasses, trying to process the absurdity.

"I was taking a nap on Kenchan's back just now," the little girl explained casually before turning to Uehara and Nanao with a wide grin. "Hello, Pretty boy! Hello, Flat glasses!"

Uehara blinked. "Flat glasses?"

"You!" Ise Nanao's expression twitched, clearly disliking the nickname.

The little girl ignored their reactions and cheerfully continued, "My name is Kusajishi Yachiru! Don't be fooled by my appearance—I'm the vice-captain of the 11th Division!"

Kusajishi Yachiru…

Uehara studied her for a moment before giving a small nod.

"Yachiru, huh? That's a great name."

But he had no intention of lingering here any longer.

He turned to the gathered Shinigami and spoke decisively.

"Well, that's enough excitement for today. Everyone's worked hard. Let's return to our territory and rest. Once we're back in the Soul Society, Captain Yamamoto will distribute the rewards based on merit. Expect a generous payout."

The moment money was mentioned, several squad members perked up, their exhaustion suddenly less apparent.

Kenpachi, however, looked almost insulted by the idea of rest. His eyes gleamed with battlelust as he watched Uehara leave.

"You can run for now, but sooner or later, you'll fight me seriously. That's a promise."

Uehara, without looking back, simply waved a hand dismissively before vanishing with a Shunpo.

Nanao gave a polite bow to Kenpachi before following suit.

As their figures disappeared, Kenpachi snorted.

"There are so many prey waiting for me. Who has time to rest?"

He ran a hand through his wild hair, already thinking about the next battle.

Meanwhile, in the Sand Dunes…

Beneath the eerie glow of the desert moon, two figures stood cloaked in invisibility, their robes barely shifting in the desert breeze.

Aizen Sosuke and Ichimaru Gin observed the battlefield from afar, watching the lingering traces of blue spirit energy dissipate into the wind.

Gin, for once, had his eyes slightly open, his expression betraying genuine curiosity.

"Well, well… He sure has some terrifying power."

Before today, Gin had suspected that Uehara Shiroha was hiding something.

Now, it was obvious.

This wasn't just hiding power—this was hiding an entire iceberg, with only the tip showing.

Aizen, ever composed, simply smiled. His deep brown eyes glowed with intrigue as he followed the fading remnants of battle.

"It doesn't matter," he said smoothly. "The stronger the Shinigami become, the faster they'll clear Hueco Mundo of its current inhabitants. In the end, it will only help us."

Gin's sly grin returned, his sharp gaze flickering with amusement.

"When Aizen-sama finally conquers Hueco Mundo and perfects the Hollowfication Experiment, you'll surpass all Shinigami… No one will be able to oppose you."

Aizen chuckled softly, his voice carrying an unmistakable sense of certainty.

"In that case… Let's accelerate our plans."

His gaze darkened, a glint of ambition flashing in his eyes.

"It's time to invite our guests from the Los Noches to join us."

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