No Cheat in Bleach ? Watch me help Aizen then.-Chapter 114: So This Is a Soul Reaper?

"You know them?"

Higashi Shuuichi turned to ask Nagasawa Satomi.

Because of the sudden intrusion of these armored samurai, the starving civilians lining the roadside had all collapsed. Even though the spiritual pressure didn't seem particularly strong to Higashi Shuuichi, it was clearly overwhelming for ordinary humans.

Satomi simply shook her head as she rose to her feet. Her eyes, locked on the unconscious bodies of the commoners felled by the samurai, burned with fury.

"Who are you people? How do you know me?"

But the black-helmed warrior before her didn't answer. He responded like an automaton, voice cold and mechanical:

"Nagasawa Satomi. Lord Sabu summons you. Come with us. Immediately."

His tone, his cadence—unchanging, robotic.

"Do you even understand human speech?! I don't know any 'Lord Sabu', I don't know you people, and I'm not going anywhere with you!"

Her anger was real, and entirely justified. These warriors were beyond reason.

Higashi Shuuichi, watching silently, saw what Satomi didn't.

These black-helmed warriors—and the red-helmed riders behind them—weren't human. There was an unnatural void beneath those layers of armor, a hollowness he couldn't ignore.

"Nagasawa Satomi. Lord Sabu summons you. Come with us. Immediately."

Once more, that emotionless voice. This time, the black-helmed warrior unsheathed his katana, slowly advancing on Satomi.

The obsidian blade rasped along the pavement, its shriek grating. Satomi placed her hand over the pendant at her chest.

Kisaragi Shuusuke beside Shuuichi made a move to intervene, but Higashi raised a hand to stop him.

"Master Shuuichi—"

Shuusuke looked bewildered. To him, Satomi's spiritual pressure was no stronger than a rank-and-file seated Soul Reaper. The black-helmed warrior clearly had the pressure of a high-seated officer, if not more. She had no chance.

If they didn't step in, she would be taken—no question.

Shuuichi understood his concern but only shook his head. Quietly, he thought to himself:

That's only because you don't understand Fullbringers. Those who wield the raw fragments of the Soul King's power don't play by the rules of Shinigami duels. Fighting beyond your level is just part of the job.

Sure enough, Satomi unclasped the pendant. It shifted in her hand, transforming into a pure white lotus.

Shuuichi narrowed his eyes. The lotus bud was small, its three petals sparse and overlapping.

Then she let it fall.

"Divine Form: Lotus Gem."

The lotus vanished. At Satomi's feet—and the black-helmed warrior's—illusory white lotuses bloomed in silence.

Identical. Ethereal.

The black-helmed warrior seemed oblivious, dragging his katana across the ground until he stood before Satomi, repeating one last time:

"Nagasawa Satomi. Lord Sabu summons you. Come with us. Immediately."

"I'm not going!"

Satomi's voice was firm, unyielding.

The warrior finally reacted.

"Refusal... means death."

With lifeless calm, he raised his blade.

Then the slash fell.

"Master Shuuichi!"

Shuusuke cried out, panicked.

But Higashi Shuuichi didn't move, hand resting on the hilt of his Zanpakutō.

Just before the blade reached her, a strange power surged across the katana. In an instant, the black-helmed warrior was thrown back, skidding dozens of feet.

"What... was that?!"

Shuusuke was dumbfounded.

No spiritual pressure fluctuation. Nothing. And yet the attacker had been repelled.

Impossible.

But Shuuichi had expected this. He focused on the details.

The warrior's lotus—where once three petals had overlapped, now only two remained.

Satomi's lotus, in contrast, had a single petal now stained pitch black.

That confirmed it: this wasn't coincidence. Satomi had done this. This was her power.

He looked toward the red-helmed warriors now dismounting in alarm. He figured they'd soon provide more data.

"Resisters... must die!"

The black-helmed warrior's pressure surged. His voice stayed mechanical, but his movements betrayed fury.

Shuuichi expected another charge—stronger, faster.

Instead, the warrior began a chant.

"Ye Lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, fluttering wings, the name of man borne upon the winds! Scorching heat and strife, across the sea southward, step forward!

Hadō #31: Shakkahō!"

A fireball gathered at his blade, then hurtled toward Satomi in a crimson crescent.

This time, Shuusuke couldn't hold back. He sensed that Satomi couldn't block a fully-incanted Shakkahō.

"Bakudō #39: Enkōsen!"

He leapt forward, intercepting the attack with a glowing disc of energy.

"Shuusuke-kun!"

Even Satomi hadn't expected him to intervene.

But it turned out, he didn't need to.

The Shakkahō didn't even make it five meters before vanishing in midair.

"Failed release...?"

Shuusuke frowned.

Shuuichi knew better.

He looked again at the lotus under the black-helmed warrior's feet.

Still there. Two white petals remained.

My guess was off, he thought.

It's not one petal per fatal attack blocked—it's one petal per enemy marked.

If true, it made sense. When Satomi surrendered yesterday, it wasn't because she was cowed by words.

She saw through Shuuichi's ploy, realized he wasn't hostile—then bluffed him right back.

No, the reason she hadn't resisted then... was math.

Five enemies had been present: Higashi Shuuichi, Kisaragi Shuusuke, Kabuto Masayako, Muguruma Kensei, and Urahara Tessai. (Yoruichi, in cat form, didn't count.)

One petal per target? She couldn't deal with all five.

Shuuichi had almost fully deduced the mechanism.

And the trigger?

The marked enemy had to initiate the attack.

He recalled—the petal disappeared only after the black-helmed warrior struck.

Not before.

"Resisters... must die!"

The warrior bellowed again, undeterred by the failure of his Kidō. This time, his cry was echoed by the red-helmed warriors, who now joined him in unison.

"Ye Lord! Mask of blood—"

Another Shakkahō incantation began.

But this time, Satomi acted first.

"Phantom Form: Lotus Within!"

The black petal beneath her feet peeled off, transforming into inky sludge that crawled up her legs and leapt from her fingertips—vanishing into the air.

It reappeared beneath the black-helmed warrior.

Wrapping, clinging, dragging.

In under two seconds, he was sunk into the mire like a corpse swallowed by a swamp, arms flailing helplessly before he vanished into the dark.

Silent. Final.

The last petal on Satomi's lotus vanished.

Shuuichi now understood everything.

"Step back, Shuusuke. Without your Zanpakutō, this fight's a bad deal for you."

He approached the younger Soul Reaper, motioning for him to suppress his pressure.

They were exiles now—Rogue Shinigami. In the human world, a little Kidō, a little reiatsu, was fine. But too much for too long would get them detected.

And in Soul Society, everyone's reiatsu had a unique signature. Even if Shuuichi couldn't tell one from another, plenty of others could.

Being cautious was survival.

"Yes, Master Shuuichi!"

Shuusuke stepped back, thrilled to see his master draw his Zanpakutō again after so long.

"Resisters... must die!"

The red-helmed warriors charged, shouting in unison, blades raised high.

Shuuichi stepped forward with his left foot, drawing in a slow breath.

His strength hadn't yet fully returned—still two days left in his Wounded Flesh cooldown.

But for small fry like this?

More than enough.

Hand on the hilt: Inner Form – Gentle Severing.

No reiatsu flared. Every ounce of power focused inside the blade.

No earthquakes. No explosions.

Only silence. Pressure. Finality.

Wherever the blade passed—nothing remained.

They vanished like dandelions in the breeze. Not even ashes left behind.

Satomi was speechless.

So... this is a Soul Reaper?

Her grandmother had told stories—but Satomi always assumed they were exaggerated.

Now she saw it.

A sickly-looking, gaunt Shinigami... who erased monsters with a whisper of steel.

Like brushing away ants.

And then, Higashi Shuuichi moved.

Slow. Like an old man's walk.

But the blade was fast.

Too fast.

Satomi almost believed he hadn't drawn it at all—that he was simply strolling.

But every step he took—two more red-helmed warriors disappeared.

By the time he had taken seven steps, only one enemy remained.

That warrior did not falter. He attacked.

Bakudō #8: Seki, flashed at his blade's edge.

But Shuuichi caught the sword midair with his left hand.

Then drew his Zanpakutō with his right, and traced it across the warrior's neck.

Helmet rolled. No blood. No scream. Nothing inside.

"Not just a Soul Reaper, Satomi..."

Shuusuke, hands clenched, cheeks flushed with reverence.

"This is Master Shuuichi. Only he could do this."

Hollowfication? No. It only made Shuuichi stronger.

Someday—

Shuusuke looked up into the cloudless sky.

Someday, Master Shuuichi would stand atop the Gotei 13 as Captain-Commander.

And Shuusuke—he would be the strongest blade in his master's hand.