The fact that Michibane had improved so much was proof of her discipline.
She had followed his instructions perfectly, training diligently without slacking off.
Seeing her steady growth, Uehara Shiroha smiled and pulled out a food box he had prepared in advance.
"You performed well. It seems you haven't been slacking off," he said, setting the food before her. "This is your reward."
Michibane's expression remained indifferent, but the slight upturn of her lips betrayed her excitement.
Even as she responded with her usual formality, "I am merely carrying out your orders, my lord," her eyes gleamed with anticipation as she watched him open the exquisite food box.
Her usually calm, autumn-water-like pupils suddenly brightened at the sight of the steaming dishes.
These were no ordinary meals.
Though it was nothing special to Uehara Shiroha, every dish had been carefully prepared by the top maids at his home.
The ingredients?
A rare delicacy—some sourced exclusively from Hueco Mundo.
And since all Hueco Mundo's resources were under the Court Army's monopoly, these dishes were practically priceless.
Even high-ranking nobles couldn't buy them no matter how much money they had.
This was power.
And he controlled it.
Michibane poured wine for Uehara Shiroha with practiced ease, then picked up her chopsticks and began eating.
Uehara Shiroha enjoyed his food leisurely, savoring both the meal and the scenery before him.
Each woman had her own eating habits.
Ise Nanao was the epitome of etiquette, every movement elegant and refined.
Kuchiki Rukia and Hinamori Momo ate quietly, without fuss or formality.
Matsumoto Rangiku cared only about her alcohol. Once she started drinking, she would shamelessly tease him.
Yoruichi Shihōin—the real noble among them—had the most exaggerated appetite. It was as if she was trying to eat both the rice and the bowl itself.
Maybe it was because she always burned too many calories with him.
But Michibane?
She was different.
Aside from occasionally placing food onto his plate, she did nothing but bury her head and eat.
Her porcelain-white cheeks puffed up, making her look like a hungry little guinea pig.
For a girl who usually appeared so cold and emotionless, this scene was surprisingly adorable.
But even though she lacked the grace of an aristocratic lady, her stunning features and figure hinted at the future leader she would become.
Still, at this moment, she was nothing more than a girl enjoying her meal.
And Uehara Shiroha?
He was satisfied.
She was far too easy to please.
A simple meal was enough to win her absolute loyalty.
The cost-effectiveness was unbelievably high.
Of course, she was also too easy to deceive—which was why he wouldn't let her go just yet.
She still needed more training.
As Shiroha contemplated his plans, a system prompt suddenly appeared in his mind.
[Congratulations! You have completed the daily task: Caring for subordinates! Reward: +1 Spiritual Pressure, +1 Zanjutsu!]
Instantly, he felt his spiritual pressure surge.
He was now just a step away from reaching the realm of "First-Class Spiritual Power".
His Zanjutsu, already at millennium-captain-level, continued progressing towards a peak unreachable by most Shinigami.
But of course, thanks to his system, such limits meant nothing to him.
Every attribute point was equivalent to ten days of dedicated training.
And unlike ordinary practice, this boosted strength directly, unaffected by bottlenecks or side effects.
Now, as his power reached millennium-captain level, each attribute point became even more effective—equivalent to ten years of hard training for a normal Death God.
Most millennium-captain Shinigami could train for a month and still gain less power than a single attribute point.
And Uehara Shiroha?
He could gain these while simply enjoying life.
Strength through relaxation.
Power without effort.
It was a life of absolute comfort.
Meanwhile, in the 10th Division's Barracks…
Inside the 10th Division's dormitory, Captain Shiba Isshin was beaming with pride as he praised Hitsugaya Tōshirō.
"Tōshirō is really reliable!" he said with a laugh. "He completed all the paperwork by himself!"
He grinned, extending his hands for a high-five.
Tōshirō, however, simply stared at him, unimpressed.
Standing nearby, Matsumoto Rangiku smirked as she chimed in:
"Captain, if you keep being lazy, Tōshirō's going to be permanently stunted. The stress will stop him from ever growing taller!"
She laughed mischievously, fully aware that as Vice-Captain, she was technically supposed to help with the workload.
But did she?
Of course not.
She barely had enough time for drinking, so how could she possibly have time for work?
If she had free time, she'd much rather spend it having fun with Shiroha.
Shiba Isshin laughed loudly, brushing off Rangiku's remark.
"It's fine, it's fine! Tōshirō is so capable, I don't even have to worry. He could take over as Captain right now, and we'd be just fine!"
"Hold on a second!" Rangiku protested dramatically, crossing her arms.
"If you ever get fired for being too lazy, then shouldn't I, as the Vice-Captain, be the next in line?"
Of course, she wasn't seriously interested in the position.
Without achieving Bankai, she wasn't qualified to be Captain anyway.
She was only teasing—lightening the mood in the barracks.
Hitsugaya Tōshirō spoke with unshakable seriousness.
"I am already well-acquainted with the responsibilities of a Captain, and I have fully mastered my Bankai. Even if I take over the position right now, there would be no issue."
His voice was steady, carrying a confidence that wasn't there before.
The existence of Shiroha had profoundly influenced the Shinigami of the Gotei 13.
Seeing someone so powerful—so untouchable—had broadened their horizons, igniting a fighting spirit that made the ranks of the Gotei 13 more competitive than ever.
Unfortunately, that motivation didn't seem to extend to Shiba Isshin or Matsumoto Rangiku—the masters of slacking off.
Tōshirō may have looked like an elementary school student, but he was by far the most reliable person in the room.
Shiba Isshin chuckled.
"Tōshirō is really amazing!" he said with a grin.
Rangiku, however, merely curled her lips, thinking to herself:
What's so great about being a Captain?
If that guy hadn't refused, she would've transferred to the Court Army ages ago.
Wouldn't it be so much better if she could just spend her days having fun with him?
She really didn't understand why Uehara Shiroha had turned her down.
Could it be… he already had a new lover?
…
No.
Considering his legendary romantic history, it wasn't a question of whether he had a new lover—it was a question of how many.
She sighed internally.
The man could probably fill entire volumes of books just documenting his romantic escapades.
After some casual banter, Tōshirō's expression turned serious again.
"Captain, do you remember Naruki City?" he asked.
Shiba Isshin's eyes sharpened slightly at the name.
"Two months ago, a stationed Shinigami was killed there," Tōshirō reminded him.
In the Human World, every city had a Shinigami guardian—a stationed officer tasked with maintaining the balance and purging any Hollow threats.
Shiba Isshin nodded, his usual carefree demeanor shifting into something more serious.
"I remember. Naruki City is a mid-sized town, located near Karakura Town," he mused.
In truth, outside of spiritually significant places like Karakura Town, stationed Shinigami rarely encountered any real danger.
But accidents could happen.
The tragic incident in Naruki City had been one such case.
It was rare—but not impossible.
Perhaps the stationed officer had simply been unlucky.
As he pondered the situation, Tōshirō pulled out a freshly printed report.
"This is the latest intelligence," he stated, placing it in front of Isshin. "Last month, two more Shinigami were killed—also in Naruki City."
Shiba Isshin's expression hardened.
He grabbed the report and scanned it quickly, his eyes locking onto the names of the deceased officers.
A slow burn of anger rose within him.
However, he remained calm.
Within moments, he had already made his decision.
Without a second thought, he turned on his heel and walked out briskly.
"I have something to take care of," he called over his shoulder. "I might not be back until the day after tomorrow. I'm leaving tomorrow's work to you."
His tone was casual—almost too relaxed.
But both Tōshirō and Rangiku could hear the firm resolve hidden beneath his words.
Matsumoto Rangiku frowned.
"Is it really okay for the Captain to go alone?" she asked, concern creeping into her voice.
For three stationed Shinigami to have vanished without a trace, the enemy had to be far from ordinary.
Even Gillian-class Menos wouldn't have been able to wipe them out so cleanly.
"This is exactly why the Captain is going alone," Tōshirō murmured, lowering his head slightly.
"If we were stronger, he wouldn't have to shoulder everything himself."
He clenched his fists.
At this moment, Hitsugaya Tōshirō wanted strength more than anything.
If only… he were as strong as Uehara Shiroha.
Meanwhile, in Karakura Town…
As night fell, Uehara Shiroha and Michibane walked through the quiet streets of Karakura Town.
Or rather—
He walked ahead, and she followed closely behind.
She never questioned their destination.
She didn't ask why they were here or what they were doing.
She simply followed Uehara Shiroha's footsteps without hesitation.
Of course, with her beautiful features and exquisite figure, she naturally attracted many lingering gazes.
But no one noticed Uehara Shiroha beside her.
His presence was too refined, too elusive—as if he existed outside their perception.
"It's going to rain."
Feeling a shift in the atmosphere, Shiroha suddenly spoke.
A heavy sense of oppression filled the air, laced with an undercurrent of murderous intent.
He glanced up at the crescent moon.
A dark cloud was slowly drifting across the sky, preparing to consume the moon's light.
Something big was about to happen.
And he had come to the right place.
Michibane, however, remained unconcerned.
"Yes, my lord," she replied softly.
She didn't care about the weather.
She didn't care about the people around them.
She didn't even care about the world itself.
All that mattered was food—and Uehara Shiroha.
If he said it was going to rain, then it was going to rain.
If he told her to do something, she would do it.
That was all.
After a short walk, Uehara Shiroha led her to a secluded park.
They sat on a wooden bench, listening to the quiet rustle of leaves in the wind.
When the rain finally fell, Uehara Shiroha activated a barrier, shielding them from the downpour.
His right hand naturally rested on Michibane's lap, feeling the smooth curve of her thigh.
He absently traced his fingers over her skin, enjoying the warmth beneath his touch.
Even though she had long since grown used to this, Michibane still shifted slightly, as if feeling something unfamiliar.
Her face remained expressionless—like a delicate porcelain doll.
But her eyes became hazy.
Her body, usually stiff and composed, began to soften—like kneaded dough.
As he sat there, watching the city in the distance, Uehara Shiroha had a random thought.
"Next time, I should buy a few sets of black stockings."
It would be a shame not to make use of those legs.
The girl in his arms was already his—completely, unconditionally.
She would never resist.
She would never refuse.
But he wasn't in a hurry.
The pleasure of nurturing something to perfection was far more satisfying.
At this moment, Uehara Shiroha's spiritual sense stirred, and his Observation Haki spread outward, capturing the scene in the distance.
"My lord?" Michibane, nestled in Uehara Shiroha's arms, also sensed strange fluctuations in spiritual pressure.
As she picked up on the violent, oppressive, and abnormal force, her body tensed involuntarily.
There was no doubt—it was the spiritual pressure of a Hollow, and not just any Hollow, but one that exuded a terrifying aura.
A shudder ran through Michibane as her expression grew uneasy.
Since childhood, her father had warned her about the horrors lurking beyond the safety of their home, cautioning that venturing outside meant certain death at the hands of these monsters.
Thus, she had developed an instinctual fear of Hollows, especially the more powerful ones.
Sensing her distress, Uehara Shiroha spoke calmly, his tone unwavering.
"It's okay. I'll take care of everything."
As he tightened his arms protectively around her, his steady voice carried an inexplicable sense of security.
The moment Michibane heard him, her breathing steadied. The deep-seated fear that had gripped her heart loosened, gradually giving way to a soothing warmth.
It was as if, so long as this man was by her side, she had nothing to fear—nothing to worry about.
She only needed to follow his lead.
Feeling the tension leave her body, Uehara Shiroha gently patted her soft, delicate form before shifting his attention to the battlefield in Naruki City through his Observation Haki.
High above Naruki City, torrents of rain poured down from the darkened sky.
There, amidst the storm, the Captain of the 10th Division, Shiba Isshin, brandished his Shikai Zanpakutō, locked in a fierce battle with an immensely powerful Hollow.
Below them, two Shinigami lay lifeless, their bodies cleanly sliced apart. Blood pooled around their corpses, and even the relentless downpour failed to wash away the crimson stains.
At this moment, Shiba Isshin had already activated the Shikai of Engetsu. His Zanpakutō blazed with scorching flames, turning each slash into a fiery arc of destruction.
Every strike left behind waves of searing heat, and at his command, the flames surged outward, intent on reducing his enemy to ashes.
Yet, despite his strength, Isshin struggled to gain the upper hand.
The Vasto Lorde-level Hollow before him was unlike any ordinary Hollow.
Not only did it possess an overwhelming spiritual pressure, but it also displayed fighting skills akin to those of a Shinigami.
From a distance, Shiroha observed the terrifying Hollow. Its wild, unrestrained spiritual pressure, coupled with its blood-red eyes, made it a truly dreadful sight.
But what stood out most was the Hollow Hole in its chest—or rather, the strange mass of red flesh and blood that sealed it.
Even Arrancar didn't have such an abnormal structure. The spiritual pressure emanating from this creature was more chaotic and unpredictable than any Arrancar he had encountered.
When Shiroha took in the bull-headed Hollow's black body, white mane, and stark white mask, he exhaled softly.
"White..."
He recognized this Hollow instantly.
A powerful being whose mere presence signaled the beginning of the grand events in Bleach.
The gears of fate had begun to turn.
This battle—this exact moment—was where it all started.
For it was through this fight that Ichigo Kurosaki, the destined protagonist of Bleach, was born.
And the creature before him, White, would prove to be a pivotal existence throughout the entire story.
Piecing together the knowledge from his memory, Shiroha understood that White – The Proto-Vizard Hollow was no ordinary Vasto Lorde.
It possessed exceptional potential—more than any naturally occurring Hollow.
This monster was a product of a laboratory, engineered to be formidable from the very start.
Unlike typical Hollows, White had the unique ability to assimilate the souls of other spiritual beings, growing stronger by devouring Shinigami.
Even in death, it would not simply vanish; an unknown substance within its Hollow Hole would allow it to transfer itself elsewhere, ensuring its continued existence.
A Hollow like this—a being that straddled the boundary between Shinigami and Hollow—was a born anomaly.
A transcendent existence.
In some ways, it was akin to the future "Soul King Candidates"
But compared to the natural pseudo-Soul King-level beings such as Ichigo Kurosaki and Hikone Ubuginu, it was still far too inferior.
Shifting his gaze toward Isshin's ongoing battle, Shiroha had an epiphany.
The structure of White was strikingly similar to that of a Zanpakutō Asauchi—both were formed from compressed Shinigami souls.
Could this be part of Aizen's backup plan?
The man had always sought an alternate method to evolution—one that did not rely on the complete Hōgyoku.
If the Hōgyoku in Urahara Kisuke's possession ever failed or was lost, Aizen would still have another way forward.
This path was certainly viable, and the results spoke for themselves.
After all, without White, there would be no Ichigo Kurosaki.
It was the catalyst for Ichigo's very existence—the reason he became a "hybrid of three races" and the strongest being in the Three Realms.
His bloodline was even more mixed than that of the Soul King, making him the true protagonist of this world.
Uehara Shiroha, possessing knowledge of the future, knew exactly how things would unfold.
In the end, Aizen would still attain the complete Hōgyoku, evolving into the "great moth" he always envisioned himself becoming.
It was almost ironic.
A treasure of such magnitude, wasted in the hands of men who failed to grasp its true worth.
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