Chapter 316: BSUS - 319 : Every Family Has a Disobedient Brat

Every family has a child that gives them headaches. At this moment, even all the way in Hueco Mundo, Tōsen shared Kōe’s exact sentiments.

"What? Grimmjow took people to the World of the Living?!"

"Y-Yes, Lord Tōsen."

Abraham seemed terrified by Tōsen, subconsciously taking a half-step back. He was fine with allowing Grimmjow to do his utmost for Lord Aizen, but that didn’t mean he would help him deceive Lord Aizen.

"Since you knew he was going to act on his own, why didn’t you stop him?" Tōsen furrowed his brows, turning his hostility toward the informant, Abraham. "Lord Aizen hasn’t issued any orders to mobilize. Are you unaware of that?!"

"Well, Grimmjow said... he said it was a secret directive from Lord Aizen. T-That’s what he told me..."

Abraham’s eyes darted away, his voice growing smaller and smaller. Anyone could tell he was lying—except for Tōsen. He couldn’t see Abraham’s expression, and as for his voice, Abraham always spoke like that.

’Could it truly be Lord Aizen’s order?’

"Why are you all here so late?"

Just as Tōsen was about to go seek confirmation from Aizen, Aizen’s voice rang out from behind him. Abraham looked up. At some point, Aizen had already seated himself upon the throne on the raised platform, resting his head on his hand as he looked down at him and Tōsen. "Did something happen?"

"Lord Aizen."

"Grimmjow took a group to the World of the Living. Was this your order?"

Aizen neither confirmed nor denied it, merely chuckling softly. "It seems Grimmjow truly cares about Kurosaki Ichigo. Hahaha."

"So it wasn’t your order?" Tōsen said, turning a hostile glare toward Abraham. Acting without authorization was egregious enough, but assisting in deception was unforgivable.

"Occupying a seat among the Espada requires one to have their own initiative, but to falsely relay my orders..." Aizen shifted his tone. "Go and bring him back. The others are of no importance."

"I will go at once!"

Tōsen gave a slight nod and immediately turned toward the door.

"Wait. You should go with him, Gin."

The moment the words left his mouth, Ichimaru Gin poked his head in from the doorway, speaking in a lazy drawl. "I was just passing by. Why do I suddenly have to go to the World of the Living? Tōsen should be perfectly fine going by himself, right?"

"I will be fine on my own, Lord Aizen," Tōsen agreed.

Aizen merely raised a hand, cutting off whatever Tōsen was about to say next. "I appreciate your hard work, Gin."

"Alright..." Gin spread his hands, looking like a man who had no choice but to accept his fate. "We should probably tread carefully, right? By my calculations, Seireitei’s reinforcements have definitely arrived by now."

"Of course. Therefore, do not let your emotions dictate your actions. Bringing Grimmjow back is your sole objective." Aizen lightly tapped his right temple with his index finger. "I trust you can maintain your composure, Gin. Karakura Town is still quite dangerous at the moment."

"Then shouldn’t I be praying that a certain monster hasn’t rushed over to the World of the Living just yet?"

...

’Madarame Ikkaku, was it? To think there’s someone among the Shinigami so adept at combat. How truly amusing.’

The burly Arrancar with the bizarre hairstyle touched the blade wound on his face. Aside from the brat Lord Grimmjow had his eye on, this bald man standing before him had to be the strongest among the Shinigami reinforcements.

Deliberately creating fake openings—what outstanding battle sense. Even more praiseworthy was his opponent’s confidence. Anyone who dared to wager their own life in a deathmatch was either a complete fool or someone with absolute faith in their combat abilities.

Ikkaku had no idea he was being held in such high regard. Was he the strongest in Kōe’s squad? He certainly wanted to be, but he definitely wasn’t. There was an even stronger pervert who hadn’t even made a move yet.

He didn’t possess any outstanding tactical awareness, either. He simply enjoyed the thrill of battle. As long as a method allowed him to successfully cut down his opponent, he was willing to give it a try.

As for wagering his life, that was nothing to make a fuss over. Since it was a deathmatch, wasn’t life the very first thing you were supposed to put on the table?

"I’ve pretty much figured out your movements. Five or six more cuts, and you won’t be able to hold back from releasing your Zanpakutō, right?"

The burly Arrancar paused. From the moment he pinpointed the locations of these Shinigami, his target had been these two guys who were grouped together. Even if he was just here for a slaughter, he wanted the massacre to have a bit of a challenge. A two-on-one fight should have been slightly more troublesome.

Yet, this guy named Madarame Ikkaku had actually sent his comrade away. At the time, he thought this bald guy was definitely a fool—an arrogant fool, at that.

But during their brief exchange of blows, his opponent’s ability to adapt to the battle was incredibly fast. Right now, just as Ikkaku had said, he had more or less figured out his movements.

’Landing five or six more cuts on me is highly possible for him now, isn’t it? He’s even doing this just to force out my Resurrección. And to match that, he hasn’t released his own Zanpakutō either.’

Thinking of this, the burly Arrancar couldn’t help but chuckle. He had almost forgotten about that flashy sissy earlier. To think the bald man he treated as prey was actually eyeing his Resurrección. What a fool—but not an arrogant one. A confident fool.

"It seems I underestimated you. When facing someone like you, regardless of the situation, I should release it and give you a proper fight."

Ikkaku didn’t look surprised in the slightest. "Does that mean you acknowledge my strength?"

The burly Arrancar shook his head. "No. For a battle-crazed idiot like you, I feel I should let you experience what it means to face a terror you can never defeat, no matter what you do."

A terror he could never defeat no matter what? Ikkaku scoffed at the notion. His captain was someone he could never defeat no matter what, yet he had never once felt fear.

These Arrancar really loved to boast and exaggerate.

"You don’t believe me?"

The Arrancar rested his left hand on the long blade in his grasp. It didn’t look like the motion of releasing a Zanpakutō, but rather like he was about to sheathe it.

"Then experience it for yourself. I’ll teach you that you can’t treat an encounter with an Arrancar like a game!"

"Awaken, Volcánica!"

A scorching current of air instantly rushed forward. Before it even reached Ikkaku, it transformed into a blindingly thick white steam, completely engulfing him.

’Mediocre. It’s only a little hotter than a regular sauna. Just a little bit!’

Ikkaku feigned composure. A water-type Zanpakutō? Or a fire-type Zanpakutō? It could also be a combination of both. At that thought, a grin crept back onto Ikkaku’s face. If that were truly the case, this was going to be even more fun.

As the steam dissipated, Ikkaku wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him. Where did that Arrancar just go? Could it be... the monster now standing in his previous spot was that very same Arrancar?

"I recall your habit is to tell your name to the people you’re about to kill, right?"

The familiar voice rang out once more. Looking closely, the blade scar on the opponent’s face was even more familiar, all but confirming the suspicion in Ikkaku’s mind.

If that was really the case, then this was just too interesting—almost excessively so.