He actually chose to kill himself?!
The blade instantly pierced through Black Fang's emaciated body.
The cold tip of the blade emerged from his back, bringing with it a long string of shocking blood beads.
Blood gushed from Black Fang's chest and back like a fountain, instantly dyeing Asuka's right hand red and splashing onto the filthy straw mat of the tent.
"Are you fucking crazy!!!"
Asuka's eyes widened to the point of tearing, staring at the scene before him in disbelief.
He cursed aloud, his voice filled with uncontrollable anger, "You old ghost! Why would you rather die than speak clearly!!"
"Just what kind of magic does that name possess to make you throw your life away!!"
Asuka never expected that his attempt to force a confession would not only fail to pry open Black Fang's mouth but instead become the tool for the man's suicide.
The clue had been abruptly severed right when he was on the verge of touching the truth.
Severed so suddenly, so completely.
Black Fang's body slid weakly down Kakudatsu's blade, eventually collapsing at Asuka's feet.
Massive amounts of blood poured from his mouth and nose, the fire of his life extinguishing at an irreversible, frantic pace.
But he paid no mind to Asuka's fury.
In his dying moments, Black Fang's eyeless sockets miraculously stretched wide, staring fixedly at the empty darkness of the tent's ceiling.
He reached out his blood-stained, withered hands, clawing weakly at the empty air.
It was as if he were making a final plea and vow to some unseen, intangible, yet omnipresent and terrifying entity.
"I... I didn't say anything..."
A gurgling sound of blood bubbles emerged from Black Fang's throat. His voice was so faint it was almost inaudible, yet he still struggled to utter words of ultimate, lowly, and terrified pleading.
"My Lords... Honorable Lords... I kept the rules until my death..."
"I swear... that secret... has gone to hell with me..."
"..."
His voice grew lower and lower, ultimately fading into a heavy sigh.
Black Fang's raised hands fell weakly into the pool of blood.
That aged face bore a complex expression, a mixture of extreme terror and the final relief of death.
Just like that, this old ghost suddenly turned into a gradually dissipating, cold corpse.
Inside the tent, Asuka stood stiffly in place.
Crimson blood dripped down Kakudatsu's blade, falling onto the ground drop by drop with a chilling, soft sound.
He had lost.
He had lost to a blind old man who didn't even have the ability to resist, lost to his own impatience.
If he had been a little more patient, if he had anticipated this possibility, this could have been avoided...
...
Kenpachi, who had intended to use the conclusion of this matter as an opportunity to have a satisfying fight with Asuka, now stood silently at the entrance.
He stared at Asuka's back, his expression quite serious.
Although ordinary people called him a madman who only knew how to fight and kill, completely lacking intelligence, Kenpachi's mind was actually very sharp; it was just entirely focused on combat.
At this very moment, he could clearly see it.
Radiating from the youth before him was a malice and tyranny that wanted to destroy this world...
He was a starving wolf that wanted to devour heaven and earth...
"...Let's go, Yachiru," he said, turning to leave.
Yachiru, resting on Kenpachi's shoulder, tilted her head in slight confusion.
Knowing what she wanted to ask, Kenpachi stated directly, "His mind isn't on fighting right now."
"Even if we fought, he'd just be a madman venting his anger. It's boring..."
A few hours later.
Seireitei, Inner Ring.
This was the most core and prestigious place in the entire Soul Society.
Only those high-ranking great nobles with a millennium of heritage could reside here.
Deep within the Inner Ring stood a massive, imposing estate covering a vast area.
Unlike ordinary noble mansions, this estate lacked the deliberately carved luxury meant to flaunt wealth. Instead, it exuded an ancient, strict, and even somewhat oppressive deathly stillness.
Ancient defensive bounded fields were carved into the towering white walls, and the dark glazed tiles reflected a cold gleam under the sunlight.
Deep inside the estate was a breathtakingly large karesansui courtyard.
The white gravel was raked into neat ripples, and several strangely shaped boulders stood within it like isolated islands, exuding a suffocating sense of Zen.
Beside the courtyard, an extremely precious incense permeated a spacious and quiet traditional Japanese room.
In the very center of the room lay a massive sheet of rice paper.
A young man dressed in a luxurious dark purple kimono stood with his back to the door, holding a wolf-hair calligraphy brush, splashing ink across the giant paper.
The man's figure was tall and straight, his long black hair casually tied back with a jade hairpin.
His movements were elegant and unhurried, every turn of his wrist carrying a unique charm of someone who had long held a position of high authority.
He was writing.
The strokes were vigorous and powerful, revealing a hidden, piercing sharpness.
*Swish—*
Just then, the heavy paper sliding door of the room was pulled open from the outside with extreme caution, yet carrying a hint of urgency.
A figure slipped into the room like a ghost.
The newcomer wore a pure black Shihakusho, but he bore no squad insignia of the Gotei 13.
The black-clad swordsman walked briskly until he was ten paces away from the young man, then dropped heavily to one knee on the tatami mat, bowing his head deeply.
"My Lord."
The young man did not turn around, nor did the movements of his hands pause for even a fraction of a second.
"Speak."
The man's voice was like a river flowing beneath the ice in winter.
Though clear, it could freeze one to the bone.
"This subordinate has just received a missive from the black market in the Kusajishi District," the black-clad swordsman reported at a rapid pace, lowering his head even further. "The informant of District 79, Black Fang, is dead."
"The cause?" The young man's voice remained devoid of any ripples, his brush still moving steadily across the rice paper.
"To answer my Lord," the black-clad swordsman swallowed hard, seemingly weighing his words. "According to the hidden operative's report, it was because someone went to his tent looking for him."
"In extreme terror... Black Fang chose to throw himself onto a blade and commit suicide."
"Oh?"
Hearing the word suicide, the young man's movements finally paused.
The brush hovered above the rice paper, a drop of thick ink trembling precariously at the tip.
There were not many people who could terrify that old fox Black Fang to the point where he didn't even dare to resist and directly chose to seek death...
"It seems someone asked him some... questions he didn't want to hear, nor wanted to answer." A hint of interest finally seeped into the young man's voice.
He slowly straightened his posture, placing his left hand behind his back while his right hand still held the brush, his gaze falling upon the character for [Quiet] that he had just written.
"Do you know what the visitor asked?"
The swordsman's body trembled.
He knew that the next sentence would be an absolute taboo for this Lord who never showed his emotions.
But he dared not hide anything.
"The visitor asked... about the woman who appeared in the Inuzuri District over a century ago, holding a baby... the woman wanted by Central 46."
"...In other words, matters concerning that Madam."
*Snap!*
A crisp breaking sound abruptly echoed in the room.
The priceless wolf-hair brush, crafted from premium purple bamboo, was forcefully snapped into two pieces by the young man's thumb!
The thick ink soaking the brush tip lost its control, dropping heavily onto the snow-white rice paper.
The originally vigorous and powerful character was instantly and mercilessly smudged by the pitch-black ink, turning into a shocking stain.
The black-clad swordsman felt as if his heart was about to leap out of his chest, cursing inwardly as to why he had to be the one to report this...
He pressed his head firmly against the floor, cold sweat instantly soaking his Shihakusho.
The young man slowly turned his head, coldly observing the swordsman's lowly posture.
"What did Black Fang say?" he asked icily.
"T-To answer my Lord!" the black-clad swordsman replied with difficulty. "Black Fang said nothing. He directly threw himself onto the person's blade and killed himself!"
"Not a single word?"
"Yes! Not a single word mentioned!"
The young man's eyes flickered slightly, and he casually tossed the broken brush onto the ruined rice paper.
"Who is it?"
The man's tone carried an undisguised killing intent.
"Who is investigating this matter?"
The black-clad swordsman immediately spoke, presenting a sketched portrait, "The hidden operative recorded the person's appearance and Spiritual Pressure signature. The one who asked this question..."
"Is exactly the mysterious Ryoka swordsman who attempted to fight the rebel Sosuke Aizen at Sokyoku Hill yesterday!"
The Ryoka who shattered the Negacion?
The young man knew of this incident, but confusion appeared in his gaze.
What connection did a Ryoka have with this matter?
The man narrowed his eyes, holding the sketch as he paced back and forth in the room...
He slowly walked to the tightly shut wooden window, looking out at the dead silent karesansui courtyard. "Considering that he has done his best for our family for so many years and never spoke out of turn..."
"Find his crippled son who runs a grocery store in East District 50 of the Rukongai."
"And that... little granddaughter of his who seems quite talented and just enrolled in the Shin'o Academy this year."
There was not a trace of warmth in his eyes, only the indifference of one who viewed all living beings as worthless grass.
"Black Fang must be very lonely down there by himself."
"Grant him a merciful boon."
"Send his whole family to reunite with him, neat and tidy. Be quick about it, don't let them feel any pain."
The black-clad swordsman's body jolted violently.
This order sounded cruel, but it was actually slightly better than he had anticipated...
After all, Black Fang was a special case, having always acted as an informant to do shady work for the family...
The most normal course of action would have been to severely torture the family to see if any other information had leaked.
Just a clean and swift send-off... was indeed a merciful boon.
Thus, without any hesitation, he once again knocked his head deeply against the tatami mat, his response cold and resolute:
"Understood, my Lord! This subordinate will handle it immediately!"
With that said, the black-clad swordsman quickly retreated, disappearing from the room.
Inside the room, the young man was once again left alone.
He stood quietly by the window, looking at the karesansui outside.
"Older sister... you really know how to cause trouble for me..."