CHAPTER 472: CHAPTER 472: TRULY HUNGRY

Half a month later, on a clear, sunny day with a gentle breeze brushing across his face...

At the 1st Division barracks, Masatsuki Aozaki looked up from a pile of corpses and scarlet bloodstains, gazing out at the beautiful scene before him.

The morning mist was lighter than usual. Through the dojo gates, he could clearly see the world outside.

Grass and cherry blossoms swayed gently in the wind, as if joyfully dancing. In the distance, rows of elegant houses stood freshly renovated—clean, orderly, waiting for new hands to care for them again.

Petals drifted through the air like pink snowflakes. Through their scattered gaps, Masatsuki caught sight of his Lieutenant weaving busily through the blossoms, occasionally stopping to greet the squad members with cheerful enthusiasm.

His white haori stood out strikingly in the sea of color.

At the entrance, Senna and Nozomi Kujō stood quietly on either side, like ceremonial guards, patiently awaiting something.

Masatsuki stretched lazily, let out a long yawn, and began putting on his Shihakushō and Captain-Commander uniform.

As he adjusted his attire, a devilish grin spread across his face.

He waved at the "corpses" sprawled around him and called out loudly,

"Hey hey, enough playing dead, you old ghosts! Get up! So—have you had enough, or not? If not, I’m happy to keep going!"

At his words, the mangled "bodies" scattered across the dojo floor abruptly returned to their original states.

The pools of blood vanished without a trace, as if the entire scene had never happened.

It was eerie—deeply so. But Masatsuki, clearly used to it, just kept grinning like a demon.

This was the heart of the 1st Division—the dojo attached to the Captain-Commander’s office.

It had been two weeks since the Central 46 Compound issued its directive, but these monsters—former First Generation captains—hadn’t taken it seriously at all.

They were the same old devils the old man once subdued with steel and fire, and they had no reverence for vague titles or hollow authority.

So Masatsuki decided to follow the old man’s example.

If they wouldn’t listen?

Then he’d beat them into submission.

"I give! I give! Son-in-law, I’m really convinced this time! For Yoruichi’s sake, spare this old ancestor, will you?!"

Chika Shihōin scrambled up from the floor, waving his hands desperately in surrender.

At this point, he’d lost count of how many times Masatsuki had blown his body to pieces.

Each time, it was restored—revived by some bizarre power Masatsuki wielded, leaving him whole again, as if nothing had happened.

It wasn’t resurrection—not in the traditional sense. It felt more like... the very concept of their deaths had been rewritten.

None of them could understand that kind of power. And frankly, none of them wanted to try.

Sure, they all loved a good fight.

But they weren’t masochists.

Being helplessly crushed, without even the chance to counterattack—this wasn’t a battle. It was a one-sided massacre.

There was nothing satisfying about it.

Honestly, brawling with that madman Kenpachi Zaraki from the 11th Division sounded way more entertaining.

Masatsuki narrowed his eyes at the old man in front of him, his gaze sharp and cold.

Yeah... definitely Yoruichi’s bloodline. He’d blown this guy apart over a dozen times, and the man still had the guts to crack jokes.

Still, after spending time around him, Masatsuki had come to understand the guy’s personality.

This was just who he was.

Even if they were all ruthless demons who once painted battlefields red, it didn’t mean they were devoid of emotion.

Masatsuki glanced around.

Everyone else was either nodding with a faint smile or standing quietly on the sidelines.

No one spoke up.

In a setting like this, silence spoke volumes—it was as good as agreement.

"Very good. From this moment on, you are officially part of the Special Guard Unit."

Masatsuki Aozaki nodded with satisfaction, a flicker of authority flashing in his eyes.

"The Special Guard reports directly to me. You take orders from no one else."

"Now then—Batsuyunsai, Furōfushi, stay. Everyone else, out."

"...?"

Even the First Generation captains—battle-hardened veterans who’d survived the blood-soaked hell of the battlefield—couldn’t help but show a trace of surprise at those words.

Was Yamamoto’s little disciple... seriously that desperate?

Sure, those two women were undeniably attractive, but their personalities were another story. Calling them deranged wouldn’t be an exaggeration.

They were fine to hang out with—shared interests, equally unhinged, definitely entertaining.

But as wives?

No thanks.

They’d avoided them like the plague. And now this kid was actively cozying up to them?

No wonder he managed to conquer Retsu Unohana. The guy had nerves of steel—a true Captain-Commander through and through.

But in truth... they had it all wrong.

There were many ways Masatsuki Aozaki could win over Batsuyunsai Katori and Furōfushi Saitō.

But when it came to these two, he had no intention of taking the crude, direct approach.

Of course, given their temperaments, brute force would still play a role.

In fact, strength might be the most important key to reaching them.

As for things like personality or appearance—those could wait.

Masatsuki only kept them close because he wanted more time to build something real.

He wasn’t like those sleazy old First Gen captains abusing their titles to chase after women.

Still, he didn’t bother explaining himself.

Not everyone was worth the patience.

The original captains cast knowing looks toward Batsuyunsai and Furōfushi, their expressions filled with amusement and innuendo.

After exchanging a few exaggerated winks and nods, they slipped out quietly.

That earlier line had clearly led their minds a bit off course...

But deep down, they still believed Yamamoto’s little disciple wouldn’t cross the line with their old comrades.

As they left, Aizen happened to pass them.

He immediately sensed the odd atmosphere, giving Masatsuki a curious look.

Then, upon seeing the two women in the room, something clicked. He nodded subtly in understanding.

Without missing a beat, he pulled out a thick stack of documents from under his arm and handed them over with his usual calm professionalism.

"The Central 46 Compound has officially issued the order. The Hollowfication ban is now abolished."

"Kensei Muguruma and Love Aikawa’s examinations are complete—we can begin spiritual treatment."

"And the Hueco Mundo management regulations you proposed—I’ve drafted them. Review it when you have time."

Masatsuki Aozaki flipped through the documents, nodding in approval. This was exactly the outcome he’d wanted.

After he finished reviewing them, Aizen continued,

"So, when do you plan to put everything into effect?"

Masatsuki didn’t hesitate.

"The sooner, the better."

Watching Aizen at work, Masatsuki couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction.

Ever since he took over as Captain-Commander, Aizen had been an indispensable partner—turning every idea into a concrete plan and executing it flawlessly.

His efficiency was nothing short of astonishing.

To put it bluntly, the Gotei 13 couldn’t function without Aizen.

If it weren’t for his support, Masatsuki wasn’t sure what kind of mess his own leadership would be.

But one thing was certain—it wouldn’t be nearly as smooth as it was now.