Chapter 363: The Final Fragment
Just as he was about to slay his master to prove his path, Satoru suddenly shook his head.
He slowly sat up, releasing the blade pressed against Yamamoto's neck.
"Eh heh, sorry, I got mixed up."
"?"
Mixed up with what?
Looking at this troublesome disciple before him, Yamamoto felt a surge of irritation.
He had let his guard down for a moment and ended up being countered.
Though it was partly due to his own carelessness, it was still infuriating.
Kicking Satoru away, he stood up and swung his Zanpakutō with a whoosh, flames tracing a brilliant arc through the air.
"Brat, again!"
"Okay!"
Satoru nodded.
Nearby, Kyōraku finally breathed a sigh of relief.
For a moment, he had truly thought Satoru was going to kill Yamamoto.
That undisguised killing intent was definitely not feigned.
But then, his junior brother snapped out of it, and the murderous aura vanished instantly.
It was baffling.
Could it be that he'd gone mad from handling too many official duties?
Thinking about it, that seemed entirely possible.
Usually a fool, yet when dealing with paperwork, he transformed—efficient and reliable.
As a trade-off...
Yamamoto narrowed his eyes, focusing intently on Satoru.
This time, he wouldn't let this brat have the upper hand again.
Today was the day to restore the dignity of the master's way!
Under his watchful gaze, Satoru suddenly moved.
An attack from the left?
Yamamoto smirked.
He had faced this opening move countless times—it was nothing special!
Meeting Satoru's assault, he swung his blade fiercely.
Clang!!
The moment he raised his arm, Yamamoto was shocked to find that Satoru was even faster, having already swung his sword to the exact spot where he was lifting his blade, forcing his own strike back!
Indeed, that inexplicable pressure Satoru had exerted on him in the previous fight wasn't an illusion.
This kid had a problem!
Yamamoto exerted more force, launching an even fiercer offensive than before.
This time, he deliberately used some moves he rarely employed and made slight adjustments to his techniques.
Yet, Satoru showed no sign of panic.
Gripping his Zanpakutō, he struck several times, each blow landing precisely where Yamamoto was most vulnerable.
Many techniques Yamamoto hadn't even realized had such flaws were instantly identified and countered by Satoru!
The more they fought, the more bewildered Yamamoto became.
What in the world was going on...? Had this kid gained some kind of foresight ability?
But even if he could predict Yamamoto's moves, how could an ordinary person instantly figure out how to counter them in such a fast-paced battle?
Just like in rhythm games, even if you're told in advance what shape the buttons will be, when the game speed reaches a certain point, there's no time to think anymore.
Yet Satoru not only instantly devised countermeasures but even identified the weakest points of every move and action he made.
Facing this damned disciple before him, Yamamoto couldn't help but feel an eerie sensation.
He had been completely seen through!
Although they had sparred numerous times over the past century or two, for the kid to understand him to this extent was somewhat uncanny.
Under Kyōraku's astonished gaze, Yamamoto took a step back.
Then a second, and a third step.
The old man's wrinkled face glowed red, whether from anger or being roasted by Ryūjin Jakka's flames.
He continuously unleashed various techniques, all effortlessly neutralized by Satoru.
With no more room to retreat, Yamamoto roared, his Reiatsu erupting violently.
"HRAAAGH!!!"
With this explosive shout, he gripped his sword with both hands and, concealed by the flames, swung at Satoru's shoulder from an extremely bizarre angle.
Amid the flames, Yamamoto resembled a wrathful Vidyaraja.
The blade's gleam seemed to drain all color from the dojo, transforming the world into monochrome!
But halfway through the swing, Yamamoto's expression suddenly froze.
Unnoticed by anyone, Satoru had already extended his Zanpakutō.
The tip was precisely pressed against Ryūjin Jakka's side.
Yamamoto's god-like strike was thus intercepted as if predicted.
The moment he interrupted Yamamoto's attack, Satoru didn't hesitate. He immediately dropped low and dashed forward, closing into Yamamoto's embrace, reversing his grip on the Zanpakutō to rest it horizontally against Yamamoto's throat once more.
This time, not only Kyōraku, but even Yamamoto was astonished.
Earlier, he could still claim he hadn't been fully serious.
But this time, he had been determined to teach this unruly disciple a harsh lesson, holding nothing back.
Yet even so, he was defeated so easily?
How could this be?
Had he truly grown so old and feeble?
Under his stunned gaze, Satoru raised his head and flashed him a grin:
"Teacher, without using Bankai, you can't kill me."
"With nearly a thousand rehearsals of this move set, how could you possibly counter it?"
Yamamoto frowned slightly.
He didn't understand a single word of what this foolish disciple was saying.
But one thing was clear—this brat had definitely come up with some new trick again.
With a surge of Reiatsu, he pushed Satoru away.
Then, sheathing his sword, he frowned and asked:
"Brat, what exactly happened just now?"
Under the watchful eyes of Yamamoto and Kyōraku, Satoru chuckled and explained the ability of simulated battles.
After hearing it, even Yamamoto, with all his vast experience, couldn't help but widen his aged eyes.
Judging from how Satoru had blocked all his moves in advance, this simulation was far from mere imagination.
Combined with the "Superhuman Drug" he mentioned earlier, with sufficient data on an opponent, this ability was practically invincible!
However, he quickly thought of a countermeasure:
"Wait, brat. As powerful as this ability is, the opponents you simulate have fixed fighting styles. If an enemy realizes their moves are being predicted and suddenly changes tactics, wouldn't your ability be rendered useless?"
Satoru shook his head:
"The opponents I simulate can pass on their combat experience to the next simulated version after each battle with me."
"Although I can't simulate the changes they might undergo when facing other opponents, I can at least anticipate what adjustments they might make when fighting me."
"The method you just thought of, Teacher, was already put into practice by the simulated version during our fourteenth encounter in the simulation world."
"The Teacher who fought me for the first time, the Teacher who realized I could counter his moves, the Teacher who realized I could counter his altered moves..."
"Three thousand battles—every variation has been engraved into my muscle memory."
At this, Satoru crossed his arms and smirked triumphantly:
"As I am now, you could say I'm a weapon specialized against you, Teacher."
"People in the martial world call me the Yamamoto Killer!"
Kyōraku's eyes lit up.
Brilliant!
He was about to grin when Yamamoto, as if sensing something, turned to look at him.
Kyōraku quickly shut his mouth.
In the end, Satoru passed the test, and Yamamoto assigned him homework: a Bankai battle in the mountains of Rukongai a week later.
Satoru had no objections to this.
After all, what he learned in the simulation world was still just "theoretical knowledge."
It felt incomplete without putting it into practice.
As for Shunsui Kyōraku, he failed the test. Starting today, he was to train under a waterfall for four hours daily, supervised by his vice-captain.
In addition, he must handle all squad duties promptly. Any delays would extend his waterfall training time.
The Kyōraku who had been about to rejoice earlier was now completely unable to find any joy in the situation...
...
…
With the first rays of sunlight, Satoru opened his eyes.
Suì-Fēng, who had shared his bed last night, had already slipped away unnoticed at some point.
After getting dressed and arriving at the training ground, I saw an unexpected guest.
Mayuri Kurotsuchi, wearing a white Captain's Haori with bizarre face paint.
Upon seeing Satoru, Kurotsuchi grinned, revealing his ghastly white teeth that could silence crying children at night.
"Lord Mikami, it's been too long... How has your health been lately?"
Seeing Kurotsuchi's unnervingly respectful attitude, Satoru was momentarily taken aback.
Then, a look of realization dawned on his face.
"Is there a problem with Nemu?"
Kurotsuchi rubbed his hands together like a shrewd merchant, wearing an insincere smile.
Forcing this guy to act respectfully was truly asking too much of him.
Seeing Satoru get straight to the point, he quickly followed along:
"As expected of Lord Mikami, you immediately guessed the situation!"
He showed a somewhat conflicted expression, as if considering his wording.
After a few seconds, he said somewhat awkwardly:
"Lord Mikami, here's the situation."
"During the previous modified souls incident, I took advantage of the chaos to collect some artificial soul pills left behind by deceased Shinigami."
"After repeated research and confirming their danger, I drew some inspiration from them and applied it to Nemu's modifications."
"But... after the modifications, Nemu seems to have developed a minor issue."
"Now, only you personally can possibly resolve this."
Hearing Kurotsuchi's words, Satoru couldn't help but sigh with emotion.
Truly a mad scientist... to so readily experiment with the Sleep Project that had only recently yielded results.
If it were him, he would definitely first discuss with Sōsuke and Kisuke—the only ones whose strategic minds approached his own—and only proceed after confirming everything was safe.
Since this concerned Kurotsuchi Nemu, he didn't waste words and directly asked Kurotsuchi to lead the way.
Arriving at the Twelfth Division's Technology Development... no, the Mikami Development Bureau branch, Kurotsuchi brought Satoru to a secret laboratory.
Upon entering the room, Satoru couldn't help but pause in surprise.
On the operating table lay a girl with long braided hair, looking about fifteen or sixteen years old, resting quietly there.
He looked at Kurotsuchi in astonishment.
"This is Nemu?"
"Exactly!"
"How did she suddenly become so grown... It's only been twenty or thirty years since her creation, right?"
Hearing this, Kurotsuchi chuckled:
"Lord Mikami, Nemu is no ordinary life form! Her embryo was personally modified by me into a super-enhanced genetic body!"
"Plus, with your soul power as the driving force... Nemu's growth rate naturally far exceeds that of ordinary Shinigami!"
Satoru narrowed his eyes and looked at Kurotsuchi suspiciously.
He suspected the old scoundrel had used some strange growth accelerant on little Nemu, but he had no evidence.
Approaching Kurotsuchi Nemu, he reached out and placed his hand on the girl's head.
Actually, placing it on the dampener would have worked too, but being an elegant swordsman—and having spent considerable time with Suì-Fēng last night—he refrained from doing so.
Soon, Satoru identified the problem.
Kurotsuchi had taken the modified souls obtained from the battlefield, directly removed their consciousness, and injected them into Nemu's body, attempting to create a super combat machine capable of manifesting different abilities based on implanted modified souls.
The development direction somewhat resembled Team Rocket's modified Eevee, capable of repeated evolution using different evolution stones.
To be fair, while somewhat insane, it was actually a decent concept.
It would have been better if he hadn't experimented on Nemu first but found a reliable test subject instead.
If one could truly create warriors capable of utilizing modified soul pills to freely switch abilities, it would be no different from wielding the Enrakyōten.
Ah, speaking of the Enrakyōten... he had always wanted to take it out for a spin but never found the opportunity.
Hmm, next time Sōsuke goes out, he'll sneak it out for some fun.
Heheh.
While entertaining these idle thoughts, Satoru released the artificial soul power within him, extending it into Nemu's body.
With little effort, he drew out all the soul power within her that did not belong to Nemu.
Having resolved Nemu's issue, he turned to Mayuri Kurotsuchi, intending to warn him not to conduct such dangerous experiments on little Nemu again—otherwise, he wouldn't participate in the upcoming Sleep Plan.
But before he could speak, Satoru froze in surprise.
He was astonished to feel that the modified soul power drawn out by his artificial soul power had merged into his own soul.
Unlike Nemu, who had gained a new plug-in, he had directly devoured it.
For a moment, Satoru wondered if he had truly become a Hollow.
Just as he considered testing whether he could devour a Shinigami's soul using Mayuri, he noticed that the modified soul power he had absorbed was slowly crystallizing and separating from the depths of his soul.
To be precise, only a tiny fraction of power had crystallized out.
Most of the modified soul power had been forcibly "expelled."
This expelled spiritual energy coalesced in Satoru's hand, reforming into the shape of artificial soul pills.
The small, crystallized portion that remained maintained a close connection with him.
Intuition told Satoru that this was not Shinigami power.
He closed his eyes, carefully sensing this energy.
Soon, he uncovered its true nature.
This was... a minuscule amount of Soul King power that Inaba Kagerōza had emitted through the "Breath of the Soul King" while creating the modified souls!
Upon confirming this, Satoru couldn't help but feel surprised.
His body had actually absorbed Soul King power... and, through some means, established a close bond with it?
He attempted to activate this power.
However, it was merely a wisp of Soul King power emitted by Inaba Kagerōza—so minuscule it was almost negligible.
Thus, it failed to unleash any significant power.
Realizing this, he turned to Mayuri Kurotsuchi.
Under the latter's instinctively wary gaze, Satoru grinned:
"Mayuri, how many modified soul pills do you have left? Bring them all out!"