World of the Living.
Amidst an expanse of ancient buildings stretching as far as the eye could see, Masatsuki Aozaki walked through the streets, clad in a black cloak, quietly taking in his surroundings.
It had been three days since he left Soul Society.
Fortunately, he was known for slipping away under various excuses, so disappearing for a few days at a time wasn't anything unusual.
"This era is so outdated... The entertainment options are way too dull."
Just as he sighed, a piercing cry echoed from high above.
He looked up toward the sky and spotted a massive eagle circling overhead. Its face was obscured by a white mask, its sharp eyes scanning the ground as if searching for something.
It was obvious—this was no ordinary bird, but a Hollow with considerable Reiryoku.
Masatsuki Aozaki smirked. "Not bad. It's at least on par with a Low Seated Officer. The odds of encountering a Hollow in the World of the Living really are much higher than in Soul Society."
Hollows did appear in Soul Society, but it was an extremely rare occurrence.
Some were fallen souls who had degenerated into Hollows, while others were remnants from past invasions—stragglers left behind when Vasto Lorde-class Hollows had once breached Soul Society's defenses.
He chuckled but made no further movements, simply standing still, as if waiting for someone.
Before long, a figure landed in front of him, dropping to one knee with unwavering reverence.
"Sephiroth-sama, I've located the Hollows' gathering place."
"You've done well." Masatsuki Aozaki didn't hold back his praise. "...Kūgo."
The figure before him was none other than the first Substitute Shinigami—Kūgo Ginjō.
Of course, at this point in time, he was still young, and his status as a Substitute Shinigami had yet to be recognized by Soul Society.
...
Two days earlier—
After leaving Soul Society, Masatsuki Aozaki returned to this land, one that felt both familiar and foreign to him.
His first instinct wasn't to return to his family's estate but to find a Jūreichi—a spiritually rich area. The city of Naruki, now beneath his feet, was one such place.
"There's a fluctuation in Reiatsu in that direction," Masatsuki Aozaki murmured, gazing into the distance.
He strolled casually through the streets, indifferent to his surroundings. Compared to the country's rapidly advancing military, its urban development seemed oddly stagnant—a chaotic blend of old and new structures barely holding together in a fragile equilibrium.
Wrapped in his black cloak, he stood atop a large tree, the corners of his mouth curving into a slight smile as he faintly heard the tolling of bells in the distance.
The sound reverberated through the night, emanating from a small, Gothic-style wooden church not far away.
More than thirty years ago, this country—isolated from the world for centuries—had been forced to open its doors under the overwhelming might of foreign warships and cannons.
Western culture and technology had since seeped in, steadily taking root. Among them were churches and cathedrals, symbols of the encroaching foreign influence.
Masatsuki Aozaki scanned his surroundings.
The church stood beneath the cool glow of the moon, its wooden frame partially collapsed. A Hollow, its white mask gleaming ominously, rampaged through the already crumbling structure, tearing apart what little remained.
Three figures stood before it, forming an unlikely trio—a blond Westerner, a dark-haired young man of Eastern descent, and a middle-aged man clad in a Shihakushō.
They faced the monster like warriors standing against a dragon.
"Is that a dragon?"
The blond-haired priest muttered as he gazed at the masked monster before him.
Its entire body, apart from its white mask, was a deep green. Its forelimbs were long, while its hind legs were short, and a massive wing membrane stretched between its body and arms—resembling a giant bat.
"You can actually see that? And where the hell do you get dragon from? That's a Hollow, you damn Westerner!"
The middle-aged man in a Shihakushō stood protectively in front of them, panting heavily.
"Damn it, why is something this strong showing up here?"
"The fact that you can see us means your Reiryoku is high. Did you draw it here?"
"I... I don't know." The priest stammered in panic. "I have no idea why it's here. I just saw similar creatures back in my homeland. Some people there called them 'dragons.'"
"Don't insult the word dragon with your pathetic winged lizards!" The Shinigami grit his teeth, his voice filled with disdain for the Western interpretation of the term.
"This damn thing has stronger Reiatsu than me... I'll hold it off—you find a way to escape."
"But—" The black-haired young man hesitated.
"What? What could you possibly have to say right now? Do you want to die, kid?"
The Shinigami's tone was urgent. His Zanpakutō clashed violently against the Hollow's razor-sharp claws, producing a metallic screech. He had no time to question why this young man could see him in the first place.
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