Just when Kirinji Tenjirō was planning to get off work early—his eyelids twitching uncomfortably, a condition no treatment seemed to ease—he had hoped to return to his bathhouse for a good soak and an early night.

But his path in front of the Fourth Division barracks was blocked by three figures: two adults and a child.

"Huh? You guys here to visit patients in the Fourth Division? They're usually on the second floor."

Kirinji frowned slightly as he looked over the trio.

Although mildly surprised to see Araki, Unohana, and a dark-skinned child who clearly bore the features of the Shihoin family, Kirinji didn't think much of it. He nodded and made to leave—he prioritized rest above all. As for Araki's new position as captain of the 11th Division, he paid it no mind. A man of his skill didn't need to bow to titles or status.

"We're not here to visit a patient..."

Before Kirinji could walk past, Araki's Zanpakutō sheath blocked his way.

"Huh? So what are you doing here?"

Kirinji's frown deepened. A bad feeling began to grow.

"Actually, we came to the Fourth Division specifically to find you—Kirinji 'Thunderbolt' Tenjirō..."

Araki spoke with a sly smile, looking like a fox who'd found its prey.

"...Huh?"

Kirinji tensed.

"Looking for me? What for?"

"I hope you can teach this little girl from the Shihoin family your formidable Shunpo, and teach Rei your renowned healing arts."

"...Huh?! Are you serious?! Why the hell should I listen to you?"

Kirinji's expression turned sharp.

"Do you know what my Shunpo and Kaido are worth? They're priceless! Treasures you don't just give away! Not for sale!"

"So… how much are they worth exactly?"

Yoruichi tilted her head, genuinely curious.

"I said they're priceless," Kirinji rolled his eyes. Was this girl thick?

"One hundred million? Two hundred million? Or maybe a billion?"

"..."

Kirinji was stunned.

A billion? That was more money than his bathhouse could earn in a thousand years.

"If you don't like rings—the official currency of Soul Society—I can convert it to gold or silver. Taels, if you prefer. It's up to you~"

Yoruichi beamed like a genie offering wishes.

Sorry… the Shihoin family lacked everything except money.

Anything within the Three Realms that could be bought—they could handle it.

Did this Thunderbolt guy really understand what a million-year-old noble family meant?

"I..."

Kirinji nearly gave in. The offer was ridiculous. But no—he wasn't that cheap!

"So, what's your answer?"

Yoruichi pressed.

"You see," Kirinji said righteously, "whether it's Shunpo or Kaido, those are my secrets!"

Then—he added under his breath, "...so it'll just cost you a bit more."

"Any price. Whatever you want!"

Yoruichi spread her arms wide, a picture of confidence and overflowing wealth.

"One billion—no!"

Kirinji clapped his hand over his mouth too late.

"Deal!"

Yoruichi agreed instantly, grinning.

Honestly, she hadn't expected Kirinji to go so cheap.

"N-no, that's not what I meant..."

"Forget the money for now! I'm not some greedy old man!"

Kirinji puffed up his chest. "But if you want to learn my Shunpo, you'll have to pass a test first!"

"My advanced flash step technique is not something just anyone can learn. I need to test your qualifications."

"If I don't pass, you won't teach me?"

"If you're unqualified, you can't tell anyone you learned Shunpo from me!"

Kirinji looked dead serious.

"Don't worry!"

Yoruichi stood proudly. "I'm the most talented Shihoin in my generation! Even my grandfather says I'm the next head of the clan!"

"Heh..."

Kirinji smiled quietly.

If she was the next Shihoin head, talent was guaranteed.

The Five Great Noble Houses were absurd in that way—their heirs always inherited tremendous power.

Not just descendants—even side branches often birthed genius children. This was why the Five Great Houses ruled Soul Society's aristocracy. Their ancestors were strong, yes—but even their successors were monstrous!

Kirinji's talk of money had been a joke.

The real reason? He wanted to extend a favor to the Shihoin family.

After all, they also had secret arts that rivaled—or even surpassed—his own.

And being remembered kindly by the future Shihoin head was worth far more than gold.

"In that case, come with me into the squad barracks."

Kirinji turned and began walking, Yoruichi following close behind.

Naturally, Araki and Unohana Retsu followed as well—

"Wait!"

Kirinji spun around, blocking their path with an arm.

"You two aren't welcome in the Fourth Division barracks..."

"I said I'd teach Yoruichi Shunpo. I didn't say anything about teaching Unohana Retsu Kaido!"

"Kirinji! I'll pay for Unohana's training too!"

Yoruichi stepped in without hesitation.

Money? That was nothing to the Shihoin. Even if they didn't pay, their vassal clans would.

"This isn't about money..."

Kirinji shook his head, shooting a cold glance at Unohana and Araki.

"Wanna fight?"

Unohana's eyes gleamed murderously. Her pale fingers brushed the hilt of her Zanpakutō.

"Hey! Fine! You want me to teach Unohana Kaido? Then let's make it interesting..."

Kirinji squared up with Araki, his crew cut shaking as he declared:

"If you can outrun me, I'll teach you everything I know!"

"You're looking for death."

Before Araki could speak, Unohana had already drawn her Zanpakutō.

"Okay."

But before she could strike—

A massive hand caught her wrist, pinning the blade in place.

"...Araki?!"

Unohana looked up at the owner of the massive hand, her eyes filled with confusion.

In that moment, her gaze seemed to ask Araki, "That disgusting fool standing in front of you—why don't you just chop him down first?"

"No hurry."

Araki gave Unohana a small nod, signaling her to relax and leave everything to him.

"Okay."

Unohana exchanged a glance with Araki, then calmly sheathed her zanpakutō.

"Huh..."

"Don't think your sword will touch me again!"

Kirinji, who had been ready to bolt the moment Unohana touched her sword, breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Araki stop her. He still remembered how terrifying her attacks had been when he was a bosozoku brat. But even now, he remained as stubborn as ever...

"So what are the rules?"

Araki asked, his tone flat as he looked at Kirinji.

"No matter the method, as long as you can land a hit on me, you win!"

Kirinji smiled confidently.

Swish!

The moment Kirinji finished speaking, a flash of cold steel slashed toward him—Araki's blade cleaving him in two.

"Good, that was a close call..."

However, instead of collapsing, the Kirinji struck by Araki's sword shattered into fragments and vanished—just an afterimage.

In the next instant, Kirinji reappeared on the rooftop of the 4th Division barracks, patting his chest in relief.

"Hey, hey, hey! Attacking without a word? That's totally unsportsmanlike!"

he shouted, snarling at Araki from above.

"Oh?"

Araki's brow arched slightly. So Kirinji was incredibly fast—his earlier slash had only caught an afterimage. But no matter how fast Kirinji moved, it meant nothing.

Araki raised his hand again and slashed forward.

"Huh?"

Kirinji frowned, not understanding why Araki would swing at empty air.

Swish!

In the very next moment, the scenery flipped.

Kirinji, who had just been relaxing on the rooftop, suddenly found himself on the ground in front of Araki—his blade descending without warning.

"What?!"

Kirinji's face turned pale. He had no idea how Araki had transported him.

Swish!

Another cold gleam arced down.

Kirinji barely crouched in time to avoid the slash and immediately dashed behind Araki at top speed.

But Araki didn't move. He simply continued swinging his zanpakutō, completely at ease. He wasn't even using a tenth of the strength he'd used against Unohana—it was obvious he was toying with Kirinji.

Buzz!

The space vibrated slightly...

Suddenly, Kirinji, who had sprinted nearly a spirit mile, reappeared right in front of Araki once again!

This time, the blade came down vertically—no room to duck or leap.

"Fuck..."

Kirinji swore under his breath. No matter how far he ran, Araki kept warping him back!

Was this the power of his zanpakutō?

If so... it was terrifying.

Still, Kirinji twisted his body at the last second, holding his breath and bracing his core—barely dodging the strike again.

"Ha! I dodged it!"

Kirinji let out a triumphant laugh.

Crash!

But before he could celebrate—his iconic airplane hairstyle, nearly a meter long, fell to the ground in clumps.

"Finally cut it off."

Araki's frown relaxed as he stared at the fallen hair. That damned thing had annoyed him for far too long.

"My hair..."

Kirinji dropped to his knees, staring at the scattered strands with teary eyes.

"Why'd you stop running?"

Araki asked, half-disappointed. Cutting someone down without a chase just wasn't satisfying.

"No more running. You win..."

Kirinji shook his head solemnly. There was no point—the strange ability would just pull him back anyway.

"Can I ask a few questions?"

Kirinji raised his head. His voice was calm, but behind his words was the weight of years of pride.

"Speak."

Araki's tone was flat, though a rare trace of pity flickered in his eyes.

"When did you unleash your zanpakutō?"

Clearly, Kirinji had mistaken Araki's ability for his Shikai or Bankai.

"When," Araki replied coldly, "did you think I hadn't released it?"

"I see..."

Kirinji's expression shifted.

He understood. Araki didn't need to say more. An intelligent person didn't need the whole explanation—half a sentence was enough.

"As expected of the one who defeated Unohana... I'm impressed."

Then, with a trace of boldness, Kirinji continued,

"My next question... It's about the secrets of your ability. Consider it payment for me teaching Unohana the path of rebirth. Fair enough?"

"Ask."

Araki's reply was as sharp as his sword.

"The range of your ability! Its conditions!"

Kirinji asked directly, intent on uncovering a weakness.

"Range? Anywhere within the reach of my spiritual pressure.

Conditions? I can transfer anything whose Reiatsu is weaker than mine."

Araki didn't hesitate—he said it plainly for all to hear.

Ever since the Soul King helped Araki unify the fragmented powers in his body, his Opera Fruit ability no longer relied on Haki, but on Reiatsu.

Wherever his Reiatsu reached, so too could his ability.

As for its activation, any being with spiritual pressure below Araki's could be effortlessly transferred...

And now that Araki's spiritual power had reached the First Level, in the entirety of the Soul Society—excluding the dormant Yhwach and the Soul King sealed in crystal—there were very few beings who surpassed him in Reiatsu.

Kirinji was certainly not one of them.

"Ha ha ha..."

Kirinji laughed, but it was a laugh tinged with helplessness.

"I've spent my life mastering Shunpo...

But after facing you, all that effort feels meaningless."

For Kirinji, a man who'd taken pride in his speed for centuries, this defeat wasn't just physical—it was spiritual.

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