Help! I am bound to Aizen!

Chapter 308

2-in-1 chapter:

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“Grrr—woof!!”

Amid the explosive flash, a massive figure was sent flying.

Boom!

Komamura crashed to the ground, letting out a pained groan. His body was covered in scorch marks. A long slash stretched diagonally from shoulder to waist, and through the torn flesh, even his ribs were visible.

Gritting his teeth, Komamura tried to rise, but after a few struggles, he collapsed again.

The colossal Kokujō Tengen Myō’ō gradually faded from the air.

At the epicenter of the blast, Shiba Isshin stood there panting hard. Like Komamura, he was riddled with wounds.

Mayuri’s custom counter-armor was terrifyingly lethal. Even knowing what to expect, he’d suffered plenty of damage.

In fact, the combined firepower of the Kidō cannon, the mechanical cannon, and that flamethrower was nothing compared to the explosive retaliation from that armor.

Mayuri really was a dangerous man.

Taking a deep breath, Isshin raised a fist.

The referee nodded and shouted,

“Winner: House Yurei’s Shiba Isshin!”

Isshin grinned at the announcement.

He walked over to Komamura, heaved him onto his shoulder, and carried him off the stage, handing him to the 4th Division medics who were already on standby.

Then he headed to the rest area. He needed to recover quickly for the next round.

By now, he realized why Ichimaru Gin had warned him earlier.

The fox-like guy must have seen it coming: Isshin and Komamura would both go all out in a bitter fight, and whoever won would be left exhausted.

In principle, Isshin had been learning “stealth tactics” from Aizen—never expose your trump cards too soon. But he and Komamura had put nearly everything on display in that exchange. Gin was undoubtedly smirking somewhere right now.

Isshin sat cross-legged, eyes closed, to avoid seeing that smug look.

People of the Kaelith faction cared deeply about keeping their blood pressure down.

Suddenly, a voice spoke beside him:

“Well done.”

“?!”

Startled, Isshin opened his eyes and saw the bespectacled man standing there.

“Aizen-senpai? You’re here?”

“I heard you were competing, so I came to take a look,” Aizen answered gently.

He glanced at Isshin’s condition, then said,

“Hand the upcoming matches over to Ichimaru Gin. With his strength, winning first place won’t be a problem. No need for you to push yourself on his behalf.”

Isshin pursed his lips. After a moment, he shook his head.

“No, Aizen-senpai. I’m going all the way!”

“Oh?” Aizen was surprised.

For decades, Isshin had studied under him, learning to keep power hidden and work from the shadows—he always stuck to that approach. Why the sudden resolve?

After a moment’s thought, he asked,

“Did Kaelith say something?”

“Mm, Big Bro Kaelith said whoever claims final victory here gets one request granted by him!”

“Hmph…”

Aizen narrowed his eyes.

One request, no matter what it is? That was bold.

He paused, turning to Isshin again.

“And what exactly do you want from him?”

“Well…” Isshin looked a bit embarrassed. But he never hid things from Aizen’s questions.

Scratching his head, he straightened.

“I hope Big Bro Kaelith can make it official: have Aizen-senpai formally take me as his disciple!”

Aizen blinked. Then he almost laughed.

Shiba Isshin…wanted to be his direct disciple?

Even he found that rather amusing. It took him an effort not to chuckle outright.

With Isshin watching, Aizen nodded.

“All right, I accept.”

“Eh?”

“No need for anyone else’s say-so. If you want to be my student, then consider it done.

“After all, since when did Kaelith have the right to decide whom I take as an apprentice?”

He sounded faintly displeased.

Isshin’s face lit up. He sat up straight with a thump.

“Teacher!!”

“Mm.” Aizen nodded.

Seeing Isshin’s unrestrained joy, Aizen allowed himself a slight smile. Then he said, “Since your wish has already come true, you won’t mind following my instructions from here on, right?”

Though puzzled, Isshin nodded without hesitation.

He’d spent decades with Aizen, long since developing an ingrained belief that “Aizen-senpai is always right.”

Aizen’s eyes glinted with satisfaction.

He began explaining his plan…

….....

..

.

In the ring, Ichimaru Gin vanished in a blur and reappeared beside his opponent, delivering a kick that sent the man sprawling.

Gin planted his foot on the fellow’s chest and pressed the short blade to his throat.

Under the noble Shinigami’s terrified stare, Gin flashed his foxy smile.

“Surrender, or choose death?”

“I-I surrender! I surrender!!”

Without hesitation, the noble Shinigami begged for mercy.

Satisfied, Gin turned to the referee.

Once his victory was announced, he walked off the stage to restore his Reiatsu.

At the same time, he cast a glance at Shiba Isshin.

Very soon, he’d have to fight that man.

Isshin was strong.

In a fair match, Gin might have to fully deploy his Bankai’s true power to win.

The problem was, his Bankai was so lethal that using it on someone almost guaranteed a fatality.

They were both in Kaelith’s group—he’d rather not go that far.

Fortunately, Komamura had done good work, leaving Isshin in rough shape. Now all Gin had to do was keep Isshin from unleashing his big moves. With a nonstop barrage of swift attacks, Gin should be able to secure victory!

He couldn’t help a small grin when he pictured the reward Kaelith might give him.

Hearing the call of the referee, he rose and headed for the platform.

Not far away, Isshin did the same.

Practically everyone was on the edge of their seats—this was the decisive match.

By now, even the most reluctant nobles had to face reality: the champion would belong to Kaelith’s faction.

Many wore expressions of despair.

If the Sixth Division ended up in Kaelith’s clutches, wouldn’t the Gotei 13 be next?

The Soul Society was finished!

Others simply wanted to see what kind of spectacle Ichimaru Gin and Shiba Isshin could deliver.

Standing in the ring, Gin smiled.

“Isshin, you sure you don’t wanna surrender? If my hand slips, something of yours might go missing, y’know.”

Isshin grinned back.

“That trash talk doesn’t work on me. Gin, don’t blame me if I warn you: you’re gonna lose, and it’ll be ugly.”

“You’d be better off surrendering now than embarrassing yourself in front of Big Bro Kaelith.”

“Oh…?”

Gin narrowed his eyes, lifting his brow in curiosity.

Isshin’s tone sounded genuine. Where was this sudden confidence coming from?

Something was off. He needed to be cautious.

Gin’s eyes slit slightly as he focused on Isshin’s every move.

Meanwhile, the referee raised his hand:

“House Yurei’s Ichimaru Gin…versus Shiba Isshin of the Shiba clan!”

“The match…begins!”

No sooner had the referee spoken than Gin pointed his short sword at Isshin without hesitation.

“Shoot to kill—Shinso!”

A glint of silver sliced the air and lunged at Isshin’s shoulder.

Though Isshin managed to block with his Zanpakutō, the injuries from Komamura’s blasts slowed him.

Shinso didn’t pierce his shoulder but grazed his arm, leaving a not-insignificant wound.

Gin gave him no room to breathe.

Like a piston, Shinso extended and retracted repeatedly, each time leaving another cut somewhere on Isshin’s body.

Isshin tried to close the gap, but the closer he got, the less time he had to react to Shinso’s thrusts.

At a hundred meters, he could still alter the path of almost every strike. At around twenty meters, it became nearly impossible.

Before long, multiple bloody holes had opened in his sturdy frame.

He seemed unfazed by his injuries. He suddenly swung his blade:

“Getsuga…Tenshō!!”

A half-moon slash of fiery red surged forth.

Gin remained calm, shifting his position and continuing to whittle Isshin down with Shinso.

Though they hadn’t fought long, the match was already heated.

Isshin triggered his Bankai.

A scorching sun appeared behind him.

Seeing that, Gin also activated Bankai.

“Bankai—Kamishini no Yari!”

Reiatsu exploded around him. Gin smiled.

“Watch yourself, Isshin. My Kamishini no Yari isn’t the same as my Shikai.”

“In Shikai form, Shinso can extend about a hundred meters, at a speed not beyond the vision of true elites.

“But with Bankai…that changes.”

“My Kamishini no Yari can extend to a full thirteen kilometers.”

“And its speed…”

In a flash of white, Gin’s sword lengthened.

Before Isshin could react, it had already punctured his arm.

Isshin grimaced in pain.

“…is five hundred times the speed of sound,” Gin finished, drawing his sword back with a mild grin.

“Five hundred times the speed of sound—how do you plan to block that?”

Everyone watching reeled in shock. The noble Shinigami exchanged looks of terror.

Their first thought was that if this man named Ichimaru Gin wanted them dead, he could stand far away—even on Sōkyoku Hill—and skewer them in a single strike.

He was too dangerous.

But then they remembered: He was in Kaelith’s faction.

Who would dare provoke them?

Besides, with Kaelith’s own power, if he wanted someone dead, he could just crush them outright—no need for stealth.

Like that time the Tsunayashiro family offended him: Kaelith had simply thrown their most promising heirs into the Academy’s maximum-security prison. After they were released, their Zanpakutō were confiscated, and they were put under permanent house arrest.

Such a ruthless act…truly a noble among nobles.

Back in the ring, Isshin looked at the wound on his arm, somewhat helpless.

If this were a battle to the death, he could pour the scorching energy of his sun into a protective barrier on his skin, destroying Kamishini no Yari in the process.

But messing up someone’s Bankai in a friendly contest was going too far—nearly impossible to fix, and not worth it.

It’s over. I’ve reached my limit. Time to do as Aizen-senpai—no, as teacher—told me.

Isshin bared his teeth in a grin.

Seeing that, Gin felt a stab of unease.

Why was he smiling like that? Did he not realize how dire his situation was?

Sensing something amiss, Gin opted not to move in for a close kill, instead continuing to jab at Isshin from a distance with Kamishini no Yari.

Wounds opened all over Isshin’s body, yet he still wouldn’t yield. He simply endured while retreating to the edge of the stage.

“It’s finished,” Gin muttered, aiming his final thrust at Isshin near the boundary.

Whoosh!

Kamishini no Yari pierced straight through the man’s torso.

Gin’s aim was precise—it didn’t damage any vital organs, just sliced along the edges.

He didn’t withdraw the blade, waiting for Isshin’s surrender.

But abruptly, something felt off.

Then a familiar voice spoke from behind him:

“Heh heh, Gin. Who are you stabbing?”

“?!”

Gin spun around.

Shiba Isshin was standing there, behind him, with that blazing sun scorching the air at his back.

Isshin’s Zanpakutō rested on Gin’s shoulder—just the slightest push, and his head would roll.

Impossible—what power was this?

Gin stared at the “Isshin” he had run through with Kamishini no Yari, only to see that he’d actually impaled a pillar at the edge of the ring.

“An illusion…”

Realizing he’d been tricked, Gin was incredulous.

He glanced around quickly and saw Aizen in the crowd, smiling faintly.

Aizen Sōsuke…you set me up?

Gin opened his mouth, wanting to cry foul over this rigged fight. But after a few seconds, he shook his head.

He got it.

That man was aiming for Kaelith’s promised favor.

He’d stoop to any means, using Isshin to sabotage Gin.

Truly the most devious presence in Kaelith’s faction… Gin still had much to learn from him.

With a resigned sigh, he raised his hand.

“I give up.”

Amid the cheers of the Shiba clan’s Shinigami, Shiba Isshin claimed victory in the public tournament.

For the first time ever, the Sixth Division welcomed a captain bearing the Shiba name.

In the crowd, Aizen adjusted his glasses, wearing a knowing smile.

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