Bleach: The Strongest Shinigami

"Ugh, what a gruesome death..."

Inside the cell lay a distinctive corpse sprawled across the floor. Dark blood had coagulated around it, and large amounts of viscous Reiatsu hung frozen in the confined space.

With quick efficiency, Akira used a Bakudō to package the corpse into a ball shape, threading it with chains before dragging it behind him.

The task, while tedious, wasn't particularly dangerous. With few criminals imprisoned here, there weren't many corpses to handle either.

Most inmates in the Underground Prison were ordinary Seated Officers or Lieutenant-level Shinigami, with a fair number of nobles among them. Captain-class Shinigami were a rare sight.

This could be attributed to Akira's limited experience — in his trips up and down the prison levels, he'd barely encountered any Captain-level Shinigami.

Perhaps due to the severity of their crimes, most Captain-class prisoners were confined in the Muken on the 8º Level. His wooden key's authority extended only to the first seven levels of the Underground Prison.

The 8º Level, Muken, was a highly restricted area. Even when Central 46 still existed, Genryūsai himself needed to convene a meeting and obtain unanimous approval before gaining permission to visit.

Muken was far too dangerous.

However, this inspection revealed something peculiar to Akira.

While deaths occurred on every level of Hell in roughly equal numbers, something was off.

But something unusual was happening in Shugō on the 3º Level — there were far more deaths, and the corpses showed signs of distortion, as if they had been tortured and killed cruelly rather than dying naturally.

Yet careful observation revealed no signs of battle in the surroundings.

Moreover, all prisoners here were bound by Sekkiseki shackles and Bakudō barriers that sealed their Reiryoku and Reiatsu. Under normal circumstances, escape should be impossible.

Could it be the guards themselves were responsible?

Akira stroked his chin, deep in thought.

But in the dark shadows beyond his detection, sinuous creatures were slithering toward him, their movements perfectly concealed by darkness.

When his Danger Instinct finally let out a piercing screech, he realized he was surrounded.

"What... is this?!"

Dark green filled his vision everywhere — twisted vines emitting a faint odor covered the floor, wound between iron bars, crept along corridors, and spread across the ceiling, writhing together like a nest of vipers.

Just looking at it made Akira feel his sanity slipping away.

"Why, it's my Zanpakutō of course!"

A hoarse voice came from behind him, accompanied by shattering prison bars, as a figure stepped into view.

The man was of average build with an unremarkable face, his body bound and sealed by Sekkiseki shackles. Yet despite this, he still released powerful Reiatsu — at least Captain-level!

Akira stared at the not-quite-unfamiliar face, but couldn't quite place who this escaped prisoner was.

"Kisaragi, I'm in this predicament because of you! If you hadn't betrayed our whereabouts, I would never have encountered that crazy woman!"

The man roared, his anger exploding as he denounced Akira's crimes.

"Wait, do we know each other?" The confused priest raised his hand in a halting gesture. Despite searching his memory, he couldn't place this escaped prisoner.

The man froze, his mouth twitching in disbelief.

He'd been delivering his dramatic monologue, and this bastard couldn't even remember who he was!

"Former Captain of Seventh Division, Okama Shinji!"

The man gnashed his teeth as he announced his name. Dark green Reiatsu erupted wildly, creating a massive pillar of light that illuminated the dark 3º Level and shattered several prison cells.

Akira had an epiphany.

That name — how could he forget? It was too distinctive.

Though he could hardly be blamed for his poor memory. The last time he'd seen this Gay Kin—ahem, I mean—that guy, he'd been completely wrapped in ninja garb, sealed from head to toe.

"I'm curious — weren't your Reiryoku sealed by the Sekkiseki?" Akira gestured, "Why so bold now?"

Okama sneered, "Mere Sekkiseki could never block my power."

With a sweep of his hand across the shackles, the Sekkiseki crumbled to powder.

Though Akira didn't understand exactly what had happened, one thing was clear: this was a major incident — a prisoner escape from the Central Great Underground Prison!

He, Akira Kisaragi, pillar of the Soul Society, would stem this tide and save them from catastrophe!

Surely when Yama-jii found out, he'd be thrilled. Maybe in a bout of senility, he'd even hand over the position of Captain-Commander on the spot!

⤫ Mugen Murasaki Kaen Bakuha ⥤ Unbounded Purple Flame Burst! ⤬

At this thought, an excited gleam flashed in his eyes. Deep purple flames ignited across his body as his surging fighting spirit erupted in Shugō Hell, instantly incinerating the writhing vines beneath his feet to ash.

His violent aura made it difficult even to breathe.

Looking at that demon-like terrifying figure, the former 7th Division Captain and current Shugō resident, Okama, could only stare in bewilderment.

Who was really the Shinigami Captain here?!

The time flow in the Underground Prison couldn't be different from the Soul Society's, could it? Had hundreds of years passed during his imprisonment?

There was no time for hesitation and shock.

Seeing Akira's Shinigami uniform start to burn away, exposing his muscular upper body as intense heat surged through Shugō Hell, Okama began to panic.

⤫ Bankai: Zōuo no Mori ⥤ Final Release: Forest of Hatred! ⤬

Dark green Reiatsu shot skyward in a pillar of light, scattering countless seeds that took root instantly, frantically absorbing spiritual particles from the air.

In moments, fierce thorny vines spread throughout the entire corridor. Cracks spider-webbed across walls, floor, and ceiling.

A sea of green stretched as far as the eye could see. Vines twisted and intertwined, transforming into towering trees that cast endless shadows. An enormous pressure descended, making the very air suffocating.

Having activated his Bankai, Okama's confidence returned.

He watched Akira charge toward him and let out a slow breath. No matter how strong a mere Lieutenant's Reiatsu might be, how powerful could it really be?

He'd only need to send out two vines to strangle him here, then take Akira's key and escape this sunless hell...

Wait, what the hell is that?!

⤫ Genshiki-ryū: Ryūsei Ken ⥤ Origin Style: Meteor Punch! ⤬

Before his eyes, as Akira charged into the Forest of Hatred's domain and countless thorny vines descended, deep purple flames soared skyward, instantly reducing everything to ash.

Okama stood dumbfounded, barely believing his eyes. He even wondered if he'd somehow released a fake Bankai!

What kind of Shinigami would ignore their Zanpakutō and just unleash shockwaves with their fists?

In one instant, the vine forest before him shattered completely, fragments of branches raining throughout the ruined corridor.

Okama gritted his teeth as his Reiatsu exploded. Dark green shadows spread instantly, covering all of Shugō.

Vines descended to blot out the sky, stealing away all light.

"Going all out, are you?" Akira paused, his lips curving into a wild grin, "Then I won't hold back either."

"Fill the Void…"

⤫ Shikai: Kūkan Mukai ⥤ Initial Release: Unbounded Emptiness! ⤬

Black chains ground against each other with sharp metallic collisions, countless sparks dancing wildly between the intricate gaps, adding flickers of light to the darkness.

The vines wrapped around frantically, layering one after another as a giant forest rose from the ground, brilliant flowers blooming within.

Pale yellow mist filled the forest, attempting to weaken Akira's defenses.

Wait!

When the mist touched Akira's body, Okama's eyes widened.

Where was his Reiatsu defense? This kid was so confident he hadn't even prepared a Reiryoku shield?

A fierce smile spread across Okama's face as he imagined Akira dying miserably under the thorny vines.

⤫ Kōsaku ⥤ Strangle! ⤬

Countless vines descended and wrapped around Akira, instantly encasing him in a sphere.

Then Okama witnessed a scene that shattered his worldview.

When the thorns touched that exposed skin, they produced the sound of clashing metal. Sparks flew as if the thorns were hitting steel plate, breaking off and turning to ash under erupting deep purple flames.

His pupils contracted in disbelief.

This couldn't be Akira at all — it had to be a humanoid Hollow wearing his skin, a Vasto Lorde!

Arms spread wide, Akira tore apart the outer layer of vines. He didn't use Shunpo but walked step by step toward Okama, each footfall leaving a scorched black mark, his presence bearing down like a mountain with terrifying pressure.

The air grew suffocating.

Okama's expression turned manic as he frantically channeled the Forest of Hatred's power. Countless vines burst from every corner, trying to block Akira's advance.

But it was futile. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't slow Akira's pace or break through his defense!

⤫ Hadō #58: Tenran ⥤ Vigorous Tempest! ⤬

An endless gale erupted from his palm, howling through the gaps with overwhelming force.

Like countless razor-sharp blades, it produced the sound of metal grinding through the forest.

But it had no effect.

The Hadō, cast with Eishōhaki (Incantation Abandonment), proved even weaker than the thorny vines — it simply couldn't penetrate Akira's defense.

"Alright, that's enough, Gay Kin—ahem, I mean, Senior Okama." Akira grinned at his opponent, "I've got a pretty good idea of my defense limits now, thanks for your cooperation."

He crouched slightly as threads of electricity danced between purple flames, activating his cells while building up power.

"Now it's my turn!"

⤫ Kūkyō Genso Henkō ⥤ Empty State, Elemental Transformation! ⤬

The moment those words fell, all the vines shattered. The ground cracked with fierce fissures as shock waves rippled outward in circles.

⤫ Mugen Shirorai Kasoku ⥤ Unbounded White Lightning Acceleration ⤬

The ground collapsed as Akira, propelled by reactive force, vanished from his position and shot like a meteor through the Forest of Hatred, instantly closing in on Okama.

A straightforward punch — no flourishes — aimed directly at his face.

In that critical moment, Okama desperately channeled all his Reiatsu, condensing a shield before him while commanding the vines at his feet to interweave into a wall between them.

⤫ Genshiki-ryū: Kūhaku Hakai ⥤ Origin Style: Single Empty Destruction! ⤬

The fist struck, melting through vines and shattering the shield as countless fragments of light burst between them, reflecting brilliant colors.

In that instant, Okama's unremarkable features twisted in agony, the crack of breaking bones echoing through the empty corridor.

His head whipped back, dragging his neck and body as circles of shock waves erupted behind him. He shot through the dark corridor at extreme speed, smashing through several walls.

Dust and debris scattered everywhere.

At the impact point, raging thunder mixed with burning heat erupted into a massive pillar of light that pulverized the ceiling. Scorching winds vented their violence in all directions.

When the dust settled, a charred body trembled in a deep crater.

To Akira's surprise, Okama had survived such a devastating hit. His life force proved remarkably tenacious.

Countless vines, like IV tubes, pierced his body, feeding him continuous streams of Reiatsu. As the char peeled away, his injuries healed to more than half their extent.

But he made no threats — didn't even dare look at Akira again. He simply turned and fled, his Shunpo so swift it left afterimages in the corridor.

"Running?" Akira followed with a step, "Did I say you could run?"

⤫ Raikō Shunpo ⥤ Lightning Flash Steps ⤬

Okama sensed the terrifying heat wave behind him and desperately wished he had two more legs.

Too frightening. Is this guy really a Shinigami?!

From start to finish, Akira hadn't even drawn his Zanpakutō, relying purely on iron fists to smash through everything in his path.

What was wrong with this world?

Feeling the Reiatsu closing in behind him, Okama gritted his teeth and sent vines bursting forth to shred the prison cells on both sides of the corridor.

Glimpsing freedom within reach, a prisoner swallowed hard, his eyes gleaming with desperate hope.

"Try coming out and I'll kill you!"

The demon-like threat passed by, instantly crushing his resolve.

The prisoner shrank back, curling up in his corner.

But while some cowered in fear, others found their courage — when the yearning for freedom overcame their terror, prisoners burst from their cells and… ran after Okama.

Fighting was futile since victory was impossible — they could only place their hopes in the powerful inmates of Hell's lower levels.

The chase continued, leaving destruction in its wake.

From the 3rd Level Shugō down to the 7th Level Daishōnetsu, prisoners were freed until their numbers swelled to several hundred.

Their combined Reiatsu made the prison air thick and viscous, creating an underwater pressure that crushed from all directions.

"Kill that guy and we can all escape this place!" Someone in the crowd shouted.

Everyone froze, their escape forgotten as they turned to face the lone Akira.

That's right — no matter how strong he was, he was just one person. With their numbers, what was there to fear?

Realizing their advantage, the prisoners grew emboldened as their Sekkiseki shackles shattered. One after another, powerful Reiatsu erupted with piercing howls.

The air crackled with fierce winds and rippling shock waves.

Far from being alarmed, Akira's eyes lit up with delight, as if he'd stumbled upon a precious gift.

"Yama-jii beats me up, Sister Hana cuts me down, and that crazy Senjumaru bullies me for being young and weak. If I can handle them, what makes you think I can't handle the likes of you?"

As the mob rushed toward him, a certain someone Zanpakutō streaked through the air, impaling several attackers and pinning them to the wall.

"Now let's begin the Hunter Fest!"

⤫⤬⤫

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