BLEACH : THE NINTH KENPACHI

In the clearing near Lin Ye, Zaraki Kenpachi remained sprawled on the ground.

Gosuke Shigure had already released the Bakudō binding him.

Zaraki instinctively tried to raise his blade again after regaining movement—

But then stopped.

He had no more interest in fighting Gosuke Shigure.

Now, he craved something more.

Stronger opponents.

"You're sure you don't need to treat your injuries?" Gosuke asked, seated cross-legged beside him, his gaze calm as ever.

Zaraki grinned through bloodied lips, unconcerned.

"Nah. Won't be long before I'm back to normal."

"Same goes for my sword. Give it a little time—it'll be good as new."

"Don't know why that is... but I've gotten used to it."

"I see," Gosuke Shigure nodded, not pressing the issue.

It was no mystery that Zanpakutō, when broken in their sealed or Shikai forms, eventually restored themselves.

Ichigo Kurosaki's Zangetsu, for example, had been shattered several times in the original records—only to repair itself not long after.

However, there was a clear exception: Bankai.

Bankai was the final and complete release of a Zanpakutō—the soul weapon in its truest form.

Once damaged in this state, a Zanpakutō could not recover on its own. Any damage it suffered in Bankai form was permanent unless specially repaired.

But most Shinigami didn't know this.

The number of Shinigami who ever achieved Bankai was small to begin with.

Even among those who did, very few delved deep enough into the secrets of Zanpakutō to uncover this fact.

Gosuke Shigure, however, knew.

In another life—before arriving in this world—he had read those details in the records of a previous existence. As a reincarnated soul, he had knowledge most others lacked.

But right now, what impressed him even more than Zaraki's regenerating Zanpakutō was his body.

"What a monster..." Gosuke thought silently.

Zaraki's body had endured wounds that would leave most Shinigami unconscious or dead—yet here he was, bleeding heavily, yet already beginning to heal.

The worst of the bleeding had stopped. If left alone, he'd likely be fully recovered in another day or two.

And if treated with healing Kidō, the process would be far quicker.

No wonder Zaraki had survived in Rukongai for so long—wandering, fighting, thriving without support.

Beyond brute strength, his monstrous durability made him nearly unstoppable in battle.

So, Gosuke waited alongside him.

Patiently. Quietly. Until the wounds healed.

It wasn't like he had much choice.

He didn't know any healing techniques himself.

In Kidō, Gosuke was a master—his prowess in Hadō and Bakudō was exceptional.

But Hadō was destructive in nature, and Bakudō specialized in restraint or support.

The branch of Kidō used for healing—Kaidō—was something he had never studied.

His Zanpakutō wasn't suited for healing either.

Well—perhaps it could be used for crude emergency aid, like using lightning to restart a dying person's heart.

But Zaraki wasn't on the verge of death. He didn't need that kind of desperate measure.

"Maybe I should take time to ask Unohana Retsu to teach me Kaidō," Gosuke mused.

Mastering a new skill was never a bad thing.

Especially something like healing.

The Eleventh Division was a combat unit. Their members often sustained serious injuries.

It wasn't practical—or safe—to rely solely on the Fourth Division for medical aid.

What if backup arrived too late?

By then, their comrades might already be dead.

So, it was better to learn basic emergency healing.

No—essential.

Situations like this one made that glaringly obvious.

When he'd battled Mojo that day, if he'd known even rudimentary Kaidō, he wouldn't have needed to carry him to the Fourth Division with Kyoraku Shunsui.

Time passed.

Gosuke stayed by Zaraki's side. Patient. Silent. Watchful.

Of course, this patience wasn't without reason.

It was worth investing time into someone like Zaraki.

If someone this powerful—this dangerous—could be brought into the Eleventh Division, then it would be more than worth the effort.

After all, Zaraki had reached this level without any formal Shinigami training.

No knowledge of Reiatsu control. No experience with structured combat techniques.

And yet, he was already a terrifying force.

Once he was taught what Reiatsu truly meant...

Once he learned how Shinigami actually fought...

Once he unlocked the hidden depths of his power...

He'd become a true monster.

With someone like that under his command, Gosuke could delegate all the front-line fighting to Zaraki.

He'd be free to conserve his energy, only stepping in when necessary.

If anyone could deal with enemies cleanly, it would be Zaraki.

That was Gosuke Shigure's plan.

By the afternoon, Zaraki finally stood up.

He was still injured—his wounds hadn't fully healed.

But he was well enough to move.

And for someone like him, that was plenty.

Holding the shattered hilt of his Zanpakutō, he looked at Gosuke with a grin.

"Let's go!"

"Take me to this Seireitei of yours!"

"I can't wait to meet the strong ones you keep talking about."

Gosuke rose to his feet, his eyes meeting Zaraki's intense gaze, and nodded.

To get from the Zaraki District to Seireitei, one had to cross a significant portion of Rukongai.

It wasn't a short journey.

Zaraki had lived in the Zaraki District for as long as he could remember.

He never had a name—so eventually, he just took the name of the district itself.

Now, for the first time, he left it behind.

He followed Gosuke Shigure through the other districts, curious about what lay beyond the only home he'd ever known.

His eyes scanned the surroundings.

"So this is what the rest of the districts look like…"

"Seems way more prosperous than Zaraki District. But the people… they feel weak."

Compared to the constant struggle for survival back home, the residents here lived comfortably.

But to Zaraki, comfort meant softness.

He cared less about wealth or peace—and more about whether the souls here had enough fighting strength to entertain him.

Gosuke answered with a shrug.

"Not surprising."

"Most souls in the outer districts don't have to fight for water or food."

"With no pressure to survive, they never needed to hone combat skills."

"Unlike the Zaraki District, most areas are peaceful."

"But ultimately, they're all just ordinary souls."

"The real strength? That exists only within Seireitei—among the Shinigami."

Zaraki paused, absorbing the words—then gave a low nod.

"Yeah… that makes sense."

He had long known that Shinigami were powerful.

And now, he was heading straight into their stronghold.

Where the strongest gathered.

Where true battle awaited.

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