No Cheat in Bleach ? Watch me help Aizen then.-Chapter 57: Different Tracks

What does it feel like to have a fragment of the Soul King inside you?

If you asked Higashi Shuuichi that question, his answer would be simple—you don't feel much at all.

Aside from the initial jolt of pain when the fragment was forcefully embedded into his body, the discomfort faded quickly as it began to merge with his soul.

Though perhaps that was because Shuuichi was already at a standard Captain-class level—and what fused with him was only a fingernail fragment of the Soul King.

"Hmm..."

Amid his satisfaction, a puzzled sound rose from behind—Aizen.

This was, after all, the first time Aizen had reintegrated a Soul King's body part into a Shinigami. But the feedback he got from Shuuichi's spiritual pressure was... perplexing.

"Your spiritual pressure limit didn't increase?"

Aizen confirmed multiple times, checking over and over. But when he found no error in his own perception, he turned to Shuuichi with an edge of curiosity in his voice.

It made no sense. Even those who carried trace amounts of the Soul King's essence had shown strength well beyond their innate potential.

Yet now, after integrating a significantly more complete Soul King fingernail fragment, Shuuichi didn't display the expected surge of spiritual pressure, the eruption like a geyser that Aizen had anticipated.

"It's true—but not entirely accurate," Shuuichi replied calmly. For once, he had knowledge Aizen did not. He had authority in this specific realm.

He spread his arms, standing tall within the reishi-sealed space Aizen had prepared, and fully released his spiritual pressure.

And that—that was what Aizen had been expecting.

The pressure roared out like an ocean storm, a full twofold increase over Shuuichi's previous cap, built from years of effort.

"The Soul King fragment doesn't increase my original spiritual pressure limit. If my own limit is a reservoir, then this fragment is like digging a new, deeper pool next to it.

I can choose to draw from that new pool or continue using the old one.

So even if I lose the fragment later... my own limit won't decrease. It's untouched."

To put it in Earth terms: the Soul King fragment was like a temporary premium buff.

If Shuuichi wanted to keep growing, to permanently raise his usable pressure, he'd have to find more Soul King fragments and integrate them.

By contrast, Hollowfication was more straightforward—it broke through the natural limit of a Shinigami's reiryoku, permanently.

Even if the Hollowfication was stripped away, the shattered ceiling remained gone.

Realizing this, Shuuichi now understood why, in the original timeline, Aizen had never bothered trying to use Soul King parts to enhance himself.

Sure, the Hōgyoku was one reason.

But perhaps, through endless experimentation, Aizen had realized the same weakness—the Soul King fragments were unstable, temporary, and came with diminishing returns.

Still... what Aizen had no use for was still precious treasure to Higashi Shuuichi.

No one ever complains about too many aces up their sleeve. Especially not when that "fragment" granted a hidden, non-transferable regenerative ability—a superior version of a Hollow's high-speed regeneration.

For Shuuichi, who had long lacked a true trump card, this was gold.

He wanted Hollowfication. He wanted the Soul King fragments. He wanted both.

"Flavorless to chew, but a shame to throw away."

Aizen summarized it all in eight words, his tone indifferent.

Then, with a flick of his wrist, he tossed Shuuichi an object—heart-shaped, faintly pulsing, unnervingly realistic.

The "Soul King's Heart."

"Tch..."

Catching it, Shuuichi couldn't help but shudder. It was too lifelike—crafted to perfection, down to the subtle rhythm.

If only it wasn't so small, you'd think it was carved from a real body.

He could only sigh in admiration. Szayelaporro truly was a mad artist among scientists.

"How do I use it, Lord Aizen?"

Carefully, he placed it into the box he had prepared in advance.

"Just have them place it against their chest. It'll handle the rest."

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"Every Hollow has a hole. You want to turn their hearts into holes too?

If they can't withstand it... there won't be any chance of survival."

"Failed experiments have no value, do they?"

Aizen's voice was colder than usual—probably the effect of spending too much time lately with Tōsen, whose righteous speeches about love and peace were grating even Aizen's nerves.

"Fair point. Still... I'm going to have my hands full soon.

With the current number of Makyou Blade hosts the Kasadōji clan can produce, we can't afford many casualties."

Shuuichi could already see it: Mayou and Yōkaku hounding him for more souls, while he danced around the Gotei 13, trying to quietly abduct compatible Shinigami.

His scalp itched just thinking about it.

"I'll have the Espada assist you."

Now that was why dealing with Aizen was always so damn satisfying.

He understood without needing to be told.

You want Hollows? I'll give you Hollows.

It was a win-win.

That night, Shuuichi returned to base.

He left Rangiku Matsumoto in the Fourth Division's recovery ward.

Given her current condition, she wouldn't wake up for at least ten to fifteen days.

"You've changed."

The voice caught him off-guard, emerging from the shadows.

"You noticed, Captain?"

Higashi smiled bitterly, turning.

Standing there was none other than Retsu Unohana.

Hair let down, tied neatly behind her, clad in a silk kimono embroidered with soft pink sakura petals. Bathed in moonlight, her silhouette was exquisite—like a scene from a Yamato-e scroll: the devoted wife welcoming her husband home.

That is, if you ignored her bloody legacy.

Shuuichi hadn't expected her to be here, not at this hour. And definitely not catching him just as he'd tested the limits of his new regenerative powers.

"Seems your little disappearance paid off."

Her gaze was sharp as a blade. Her voice, soft as still water.

"For the sake of my dream... I've never stopped fighting."

He met her eyes, unwavering.

She held his gaze for two seconds... then turned on her heel, geta clicking gently against the floorboards.

"Follow me to the training ground."

No room for refusal.