"Araki, you did well. It seems you haven't wasted all these years! You truly are worthy of being my most valued disciple…"

"Ahem…"

"Anyway, since you've defeated Unohana, from this moment on, you are the new Kenpachi of the Soul Society."

"As for the position of captain of the 11th Division, it now belongs to you."

After Unohana was struck down by Araki's glass light and collapsed into his arms, Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni, who had been silently observing the duel from atop a stubborn stone, finally broke his silence.

He began with rare praise for Araki, then coughed lightly. After a brief pause, he—Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13—proceeded to perform a simple yet solemn captain's handover ceremony between Unohana and Araki.

"Got it, Old Man Yamamoto~"

"Remember, once you're old, keep wolfberries in your thermos."

Araki merely nodded to his master, casual and unfazed as ever.

After tossing a cheeky remark to Yamamoto, Araki picked up the unconscious Unohana in his arms and vanished in a flash step.

Whether it was an illusion or not, Araki couldn't help but feel that his master seemed even more elated about Unohana's defeat than he was.

"I will never forget your teachings…"

Yamamoto watched Araki depart, the corners of his mouth slightly lifting—until he suddenly snapped out of his reverie and shouted after him:

"Damn brat, who are you calling Old Man Yamamoto? You should call me Master!"

"Yeah, yeah, got it, Old Man Yamamoto…"

Just as Yamamoto finished shouting, a spiritual particle—carrying Araki's playful voice—floated back to his ears.

"Hmph! Disrespectful punk."

Yamamoto frowned and muttered, but as he looked around and saw no one nearby, he let out a long, relieved breath.

"…Finally. We've won."

Yes, Yamamoto's calm exterior belied the storm of emotion within. As he looked down at his trembling, sweat-drenched palms, he shook his head in disbelief. Throughout the entire duel between Araki and Unohana, he had barely been able to keep his composure. More than once, when Araki was on the brink of collapse, he had been tempted to intervene himself. But he knew that wasn't an option.

"Heh…"

"That kid Araki has finally grown."

With Araki's victory, Yamamoto's long-held worries dissipated. On his normally stern face, a rare smile appeared.

"At last… one of my wishes has been fulfilled."

For as long as he could remember, Genryūsai had seen Araki as a son. When Araki once rejected his offer and chose instead to run a ramen shop in the slums of Rukongai, he was furious—not because of the rejection itself, but because Araki had turned his back on battle.

He had despised seeing such talent squandered in a place where hope went to die. But now, with Araki's defeat of Unohana, all of that seemed like humble restraint in hindsight.

The years of frustration buried in Yamamoto's heart finally melted away with this victory.

"Master Genryūsai! Araki won! He actually won!"

Just as Yamamoto was quietly reflecting on his memories with Araki, and everything the young man had become, an excited voice suddenly called out behind him.

"…Chōjirō. So you've arrived."

Yamamoto turned to see the silver-haired youth standing breathlessly behind him, eyes alight with emotion. The old man's smile vanished, replaced once more by his usual stern dignity.

"Master Genryūsai, Araki truly defeated Captain Unohana… I knew he hadn't been wasting his time! He's still your greatest disciple. At last… you can rest easy."

The person who arrived was naturally Chōjirō Sasakibe. At this moment, he could barely contain his inner excitement. Looking at the Yamamoto Genryūsai he so deeply admired, he—uncharacteristically—began speaking non-stop.

"Hmph! That guy merely won a fight—a fight he should have won! Why are you getting so worked up? Enough talk. Return with me to the First Division's barracks."

Genryūsai snorted, face stern, his voice carrying the heavy weight of command.

"As you command, Genryūsai-sama,"

Chōjirō immediately lowered his head, but deep down, he knew Yamamoto was in an unusually good mood today.

Meanwhile, in the 11th Division barracks—

"As you can see, whether you like it or not, from today onward I am the new Kenpachi—and also your new captain."

"I don't care what rules Unohana had while she was in charge. From now on, you'll follow my rules. And I only have three."

Standing with his Zanpakutō at his waist and the unconscious Unohana slung over his shoulder, Araki faced the group of 11th Division members—most of them still wrapped in bandages from the earlier confrontation. His voice was steady, sharp.

"First rule: follow orders."

"Second rule: follow orders."

"Third rule: follow orders again."

"No one is allowed to disturb me in the captain's room without permission. Train on your own until you can't move."

Without waiting for their response, Araki carried Unohana straight into the captain's quarters.

"Hah…"

As soon as he stepped inside, he carefully set Unohana down and exhaled deeply.

It had been a long, exhausting day. Even with a Level 10 physique that could push limits day and night, Araki still felt weariness creeping into his bones. Pressing his fingers against his sore temples, he wasn't sure whether the 11th Division members had heard or understood what he just said—or what impression he'd left on them.

Not that it mattered.

Because right now, he had only one thing on his mind—

"System, open."

Sitting in the captain's chair, Araki activated the system in his mind to check his gains.

Outside, the 11th Division was in chaos.

A new Kenpachi had arrived—and carried the former Kenpachi over his shoulder like luggage.

Who had ever seen a new captain take over by literally dragging the previous one in with him?

This… This would go down in history.

Unprecedented. Possibly unrepeatable.