Shinigami: Medicine Can't Save The Soul Reaper Society

As Yachiru launched herself at Kisuke Urahara, she delivered a swift kick square to his face—a decisive, if unorthodox, aerial attack.

In an instant, Zaraki observed, with surprising clarity, that Urahara's face seemed to cave in slightly under the impact.

Yachiru, light as a feather, bounced upward like she was springing off a trampoline. Twisting gracefully in midair, she spread her arms wide before landing deftly on the ground.

"Hey-choo~!"

"Ahhh!!!"

Her playful chirp synchronized perfectly with Urahara's anguished scream.

Turning to look, Yachiru saw Urahara clutching his face, writhing on the ground in visible pain.

"ouch, ouch! ,ouch~!!"

"Hey, Ken-chan! Look! Little Cushion is awake!" Yachiru chirped, her voice as carefree as ever, while casually assigning Urahara a brand-new nickname.

"Little… Cushion?"

Urahara paused, his hands instinctively dropping away from his face, revealing two distinct, bright red footprints imprinted on his skin. Only then did he fully register what Yachiru had just called him.

Wait…

Memories flooded back into his mind, and his pupils contracted in shock.

"Yoruichi!!!"

A rush of recollections overwhelmed him.

He remembered that due to his frequent preoccupation with research, Yoruichi had taken it upon herself to arrange their attendance at an important event. She entrusted Captain Ginrei Kuchiki with delivering gifts to Unohana, then headed to the Twelfth Division to meet up with Urahara before proceeding together to the Feng Clan's inheritance ceremony.

The ambush came without warning.

A zanpakutō pierced Yoruichi from behind, its blade running her through completely. Before Urahara could react, he too was struck and rendered unconscious.

Before his consciousness slip away, he caught sight of a shocking scene: a figure in a Shinigami's uniform clutching a Hōgyoku. Simultaneously, Yoruichi's body began to show the ominous signs of Hollowfication.

Back in the present, Urahara shot to his feet, his gaze darting around the decimated Twelfth Division barracks. The sight of crumbled structures, bloodstains, and fallen corpses stirred a deep sorrow and anger within him.

Despite his relatively short tenure as captain of the Twelfth Division and his admittedly lax approach to administrative duties, Urahara harbored genuine affection for his division, his efforts often directed toward his research and the fledgeling Shinigami Research and Development Institute

But then, his eyes fell upon Hiyori Sarugaki, who lingered in Zaraki's shadow. She appeared hesitant, her actions constrained by a deep-seated fear.

Her once-familiar figure now bore all the hallmarks of a Hollow: the eyes, the aura, the spiritual pressure, and even a forming Hollow hole.

"Damn it!"

In a flash of extraordinary speed, Urahara unleashed a burst of shunpo and hakuda that even caught Zaraki's attention. Within moments, he subdued Hiyori, whose spiritual pressure was now nearing captain-class strength.

Zaraki's eyes glimmered with intrigue. He hadn't expected the seemingly unimpressive and unassuming Urahara to demonstrate such skill.

"Urahara Kisuke, fight me!" Zaraki declared instinctively, his voice tinged with excitement.

"Sorry, Captain Zaraki, I have more pressing matters to attend to."

Carrying the restrained Hiyori, Urahara turned his gaze towards the Fourth Division barracks.

Four—no, five sources of chaotic, captain-level Hollowfied spiritual pressure emanated from there, along with numerous vice-captain and seated-officer-level traces.

A grim expression overtook his face.

Someone else had managed to create a Hōgyoku. Not only that—they had used it recklessly to conduct Hollowfication experiments on Shinigami.

Ignoring Zaraki's growing irritation, Urahara carried Hiyori towards the ruins of the captain's office. With a series of intricate Kidō spells, he entered a hidden chamber.

---

Elsewhere, Aizen calmly nullified the barriers around the Fourth Division barracks with his Reverse Demon Strike—a technique that neutralized any Kidō by matching its composition and magnitude. With Tōsen at his side, he ascended to a nearby tower overlooking Unohana's courtyard.

Tōsen produced a small device, studying it before reporting.

"Lord Aizen, Kenpachi Zaraki has reached the Twelfth Division barracks, Kisuke Urahara has regained consciousness."

Aizen's lips curled into a faint smile.

"The timing is perfect. Urahara should be making his move soon. Then we'll finally see the true potential of his Hōgyoku."

"Pardon me, Lord Aizen, but why not simply seize Urahara Kisuke's Hōgyoku and verify its effects yourself?" Tōsen inquired cautiously.

"Why would I?" Aizen replied, adjusting his glasses.

"To harbor arrogance in one's heart is a mistake. Even as Shinigami, our energy and time are finite. Perfecting this Hōgyoku, born from Shinigami souls, requires immense effort.

"Urahara Kisuke's Hōgyoku, crafted from Hollow souls, was a rare achievement. Yet his reverence for its power hindered his curiosity, leading him to consider sealing or destroying it instead of advancing its development.

"But after this incident, whether to heal the Hollowfied Shinigami or to counter a shadowy adversary like me, Urahara Kisuke will have no choice but to continue refining his creation."

Tōsen shivered, overwhelmed by Aizen's commanding presence. His admiration deepened, but a lingering concern prompted him to ask, "Lord Aizen, if Urahara Kisuke perfects his Hōgyoku and transcends the limits of a Shinigami, could that interfere with your plans?"

Aizen chuckled softly.

"Tōsen, why speak of such trivialities? The more comrades who transcend Shinigami boundaries, the better. If Urahara achieves such a feat, this dull world will merely become more entertaining."

"I see. My apologies, Lord Aizen, for my shortsightedness," Tōsen replied humbly.

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