No Cheat in Bleach ? Watch me help Aizen then.

At this time in London, entertainment was still a scarce commodity. Any bit of news could spread like wildfire through the city.

So the sinking of a cruise ship?

That sent the curiosity of London's citizens into overdrive.

Higashi Shuuichi walked with Kisaragi Shūsuke and the others upstream along the Thames, passing through a swarm of gawking locals gathered at the riverbank.

Eventually, they arrived at a modest bakery.

"Rimi's Bakery…"

Shuuichi glanced up at the wooden sign above the storefront.

Well, no mystery who owned this place.

They entered the backroom.

Shūsuke flipped a switch—tungsten filaments glowed as the electric light gradually illuminated the small space in a soft yellow hue.

"Shuuichi-sama, I must apologize," Shūsuke said, his voice heavy. "Regarding that so-called 'First Generation Captain' Sakon Kaizō, we truly don't know much…"

On the walk here, Shūsuke had already been briefed on why Shuuichi had gone out of his way to return.

Now, under the hum of electricity, guilt weighed on him.

...

Shuuichi remained silent.

He hadn't expected much from Shūsuke anyway.

This kid had never been cut out for intrigue.

If he had half the cunning of Gin Ichimaru, maybe he wouldn't have spent the last decade spinning his wheels in mediocrity.

Even from far away in the East District, with only fragments of information, Shuuichi had managed to guess part of the truth.

Yet Shūsuke—who had been stationed in the West for years—had nothing. Not even a thread.

It was enough to make Shuuichi want to say:

"Next time you're out in public, don't tell people you trained under me. It's embarrassing."

Thankfully, he bit it back.

Instead he said, "You not knowing, fine.

But what about Yoruichi Shihōin? Or Urahara Kisuke? Don't tell me they're in the dark too."

"If I'm not mistaken," he continued, "Kisuke's plan back then was to have Yoruichi lead a team to investigate those armored warriors who appeared.

And those warriors, I'm sure of it—

They came from the same faction, possibly even the same individual, as Sakon Kaizō, who just attempted to invade Soul Society."

Shuuichi laid it all out—based on what Sayako had told him of their current operations and the efforts made in his absence.

He had trusted Shūsuke because Yoruichi and Kisuke had been part of the plan.

Their investigative talents? Leagues beyond Shūsuke's.

But what had come of it?

Apparently, Yoruichi only discovered a manufacturing plant outside London—nothing about its leadership.

And Kisuke, blacklisted by the East Bureau, never even managed peaceful contact with the West Bureau captain.

That's what Shuuichi heard.

But Kisuke's own explanation? Yoruichi's?

He didn't buy either of them.

Still, mistrusting them openly in front of Shūsuke and Sayako would only sow division.

These people, at least on the surface, were still his allies.

"So then," Shuuichi shifted the subject, "what's your assessment of that Count Rock Martin?"

He didn't want to waste breath debating Yoruichi or Kisuke.

He'd confront them himself soon enough—face to face.

For now, his objective was to bring Shūsuke and the others back under his command at the East Bureau, to bolster his Sword Hunt Corps.

"I'm sure of it," Shūsuke said, eyes lighting up. "That Count Rock Martin is the mastermind behind the Zanpakutō theft years ago!

In his home, I found an unused Asauchi and a signed directive—his handwriting—ordering an embedded agent in Soul Society to discreetly steal a batch of Asauchi."

Finally, after years of groundwork, Shūsuke's investigation had borne fruit.

He'd believed the evidence was compelling enough to convince even Kyōraku Shunsui.

Of course, from Soul Society's perspective, the idea that a lone human from the West Bureau orchestrated a major theft was hard to accept.

Still, Shūsuke had almost arrested Martin today—

But at the last moment, he hesitated.

He chose instead to consult Sayako with the evidence first.

To Shūsuke, it felt like the climax of a long battle.

But to Shuuichi?

He saw a different picture entirely.

In his mind, the scene unfolded—

Shūsuke, clutching the evidence, while in the shadowed corners of that lavish estate, Count Martin himself watched, eyes cold and serpent-like.

Chilling.

Why such a thought?

Because Shuuichi knew—this case wasn't simple.

The Asauchi theft linked to a web of secrets far deeper than Shūsuke realized.

And if Shūsuke had been allowed to uncover "everything" so easily…

Then it was a trap.

The whole thing—a performance staged for Shūsuke's benefit.

What was Martin's goal?

Maybe it was just for sport.

The city's citizens were starved for excitement; opera alone didn't cut it.

Maybe this was his twisted entertainment.

Shuuichi remembered Martin's taste in women—

Nearly a one-to-one mold of Matsumoto Rangiku.

Too much of a coincidence.

Martin had targeted them from the beginning.

And the idea that their "luck" just happened to land them within Martin's circle?

Please.

If Shuuichi had been there, he would've marked Martin as high-risk immediately, not wasted three years playing nice.

And the appearance of Sakon Kaizō…

The young Yamamoto…

Even his own younger self from that past illusion—

All of it pointed to the mastermind wielding real power.

The Fullbringers alone would've been enough to overwhelm Shūsuke.

"I've heard enough."

Shuuichi's voice cut through the air.

"From this moment on, I'll be handling the Count Rock Martin case.

Shūsuke—you'll prepare to return to the East Bureau with Sayako, Rangiku, and the others."

With Shuuichi now here, he could intervene before things spiraled.

"But, Shuuichi-sama… I think I can still—"

Shūsuke hesitated.

He could tell from Shuuichi's sudden forcefulness—

There was something he'd missed.

Some detail Shuuichi had spotted that he hadn't.

He didn't take it as insult.

He wasn't doing this to impress Kyōraku Shunsui.

He just wanted to help Shuuichi.

He believed he was strong enough to fight alongside him now.

And under normal circumstances, that would've been true.

But not this time.

From Shuuichi's perspective, this wasn't just about strength.

Martin had baited them—knowing full well who they were.

He'd dangled the evidence like a worm on a hook.

Now, he waited.

One wrong move, and they'd be devoured.

Shuuichi was certain—

Martin already had a way to neutralize Shūsuke.

He was just waiting for the attack.

So there was no way he'd allow Shūsuke, Sayako, or any of them to get involved further.

Only Shuuichi himself could act now.

And as for whether this Quincy form could handle it?

Come on.

He was Tōno Takuya—a defector here to join them!

This wasn't about brute force anymore.

This was diplomacy.

Deception.

The art of war.

A disposable avatar—never connected to his true self.

That was the ideal purpose for a body like this.

But just as Shuuichi was about to press for more details on Martin—

He felt a disturbance.

A trigger in his sensory net—an alert.

He left Takuya with a preset command—

Then yanked his consciousness back into his true Shinigami body.

Back in Soul Society.

Dawn just breaking.

A man in glasses stood there, white haori damp with dew.

"…Aizen-sama? What brings you here?"

Shuuichi was confused.

This was Seireitei.

Because of Gin Ichimaru's vigilance, for Aizen to meet him privately here required extraordinary caution.

Kyouka Suigetsu couldn't affect Ichimaru—

So any meeting with Shuuichi had to be legitimate.

Or Gin might uncover the truth.

Not that Shuuichi feared Gin.

At this point, he was powerful enough to crush threats outright.

Even if Gin knew, he'd just bury it—like a venomous snake waiting to strike.

But Aizen still cared.

He wanted Gin to witness it.

To see Shuuichi standing openly at his side one day—

That look on Gin's face, twisted in betrayal, would be priceless.

But it had to be surprise.

Ceremony.

If Gin figured it out on his own, the game would be ruined.

"I just returned from the Grand Spirit Archives," Aizen said calmly.

"Felt inspired. Needed someone to talk to."

He took a seat across from Shuuichi.

This house, built entirely to Shuuichi's design, had no tatami—just a modern table and chairs.

Aizen seemed uncomfortable at first, but quickly adapted.

"I remember," Shuuichi said, pouring him a cup of Dragon Well tea from the World of the Living.

"Back when the Kasumioji clan still stood, you visited the Archives frequently.

Haven't seen you there in ages.

What brought that on?"

"No particular reason," Aizen replied, taking a sip—brows furrowed faintly at the flavor.

"But after this last incident… and your own performance… I realized—

Hell might be an interesting place."

Shuuichi's spine straightened.

Aizen's appetite…

It had grown.

"…So. Aizen-sama.

Even the Soul King and the sleeping Quincy King no longer satisfy your hunger?"

Aizen smiled.

"Shuuichi.

Desire is infinite.

But that's not a bad thing.

Desire drives evolution.

It's how the world moves forward.

Those without it?

They stagnate.

And the world leaves them behind."