Shinigami: Medicine Can't Save The Soul Reaper Society

The so-called inspection of the Kido barriers ended up being more of a Kido lecture, with Ise Nanao taking the lead while Makoto trailed behind, asking occasional questions about the intricacies of barrier construction.

Despite her usual cold and detached demeanor, Nanao answered each query with meticulous precision. She maintained a facade of reluctance, but her explanations were clear and detailed.

She even divulged the subtle "backdoors" built into the barriers—hidden weaknesses that allowed individuals with the right knowledge to bypass them without brute force.

Makoto, of course, would never exploit her trust. His integrity was beyond question.

Still, he committed every detail to memory. Just in case.

---

Meanwhile…

Hueco Mundo—Las Noches

The fortress known as Las Noches, supposedly the seat of power in Hueco Mundo, bore little resemblance to a proper palace. Its vast, open-air structure lacked even a ceiling, exposing the barren desert to the perpetual night sky.

At its heart, atop a crude, unadorned throne, sat a skeletal figure adorned with a crown-like headdress and draped in a tattered cloak. Though the hollow sockets of his skull held no eyes, an oppressive, kingly aura radiated from his being.

Beneath him, a motley assembly of Adjuchas-class Hollows stood in loose formation, their grotesque forms reflecting the chaotic nature of their evolution.

One Hollow, resembling an upright tiger with bone-plated armor covering its muscular frame, knelt before the throne.

"Your Majesty," the tiger-like Adjuchas reported, voice trembling with reverence, "we've detected the arrival of another Expeditionary Force from Seireitei. Some Hollows from the outer regions, once loyal to Las Noches, have already gone missing."

"Seireitei? Another expedition?"

The skeletal figure shifted. His hollow sockets seemed to narrow, though they were empty.

The oppressive spiritual pressure around him thickened, pressing down on the gathering like an invisible weight.

"Those vermin again," Baraggan Louisenbairn growled, his voice low and resonant with contempt. "I haven't set foot in Soul Society to slaughter their kind, yet they insist on invading my realm with their pathetic crusades."

He paused, his bony hand rising in a dismissive wave.

"This is no time to concern ourselves with those pests. There's a more pressing matter to address… that insolent insect who dares provoke Las Noches."

A murmur swept through the Adjuchas gathered before him. Their voices clashed in a chaotic chorus.

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

"As soon as you give the command, we'll tear them apart!"

"Surely, Your Majesty's axe has grown thirsty by now! My claws, too, long to sink into flesh!"

"All hail King Baraggan!"

Their declarations rang through the air, eager and disorganized.

Baraggan showed no sign of displeasure. He understood the nature of Adjuchas. Though they possessed intelligence, their instincts remained incomplete, twisted by the constant urge to dominate and devour one another.

Discipline was never their strength. Order was the domain of the living, not of Hollows.

Raising his hand slightly, he silenced the rabble.

"That insolent insect," he repeated, his voice sharp with menace, "cannot be killed so easily. We'll need greater strength…"

He let the words hang, the tension in the air thickening.

"Where are the messengers I sent to Tier Harribel?" he demanded.

The Adjuchas exchanged anxious glances. After a moment, the tiger-like Hollow stiffened and lowered its head further.

"Y-Your Majesty… they haven't returned. It's possible… they were killed."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Then came the crack.

CRACK!

Baraggan slammed his skeletal hand onto the throne's armrest. The stone crumbled beneath the blow, and his other hand grasped the massive battle-axe resting at his side. The weapon radiated an aura of decay and death.

"I am the King of Hueco Mundo!" he roared. "Has my name grown so weak that even that newly evolved Vasto Lorde dares defy me? How dare Harribel slaughter my emissaries?!"

He rose, the black fog of his Respira—the aura of death and aging—seeping from his body.

The Hollows nearest to him recoiled instinctively.

The tiger-like Adjuchas, despite standing among the strongest of its kind, couldn't suppress its trembling. The black mist drifted toward it, tendrils of decay curling through the air.

Where the fog touched the Hollow's body, the bone plating cracked and disintegrated.

Decay.

Rapid, inescapable aging devoured its flesh. The Hollow's roars of agony were cut short as its spiritual body collapsed into fine ash.

Within a second, the Hollow standing nearby met the same fate—its life force stripped away in an instant.

When the fog dissipated, nothing remained of the two except faint depressions in the sand, marking where they'd knelt.

Baraggan strode forward, his axe resting on his shoulder, the mist coiling around him like a living shadow.

"Since Tier Harribel refuses to kneel," he declared, voice like the creaking of a coffin lid, "we will devour her and her followers. Then we'll turn our attention to that meddlesome insect."

His gaze swept over the cowed Adjuchas.

"Let all of Hueco Mundo remember: there is only one true king. Baraggan Louisenbairn rules this realm—unchallenged, unchanging, eternal."

"Long live King Baraggan!" the Hollows chorused in terrified unison.

With a single motion, Baraggan turned and marched from the throne.

The Adjuchas swarmed to follow, their monstrous silhouettes spilling into the endless desert as Las Noches emptied its forces.

---

Moments Later

As the last of Baraggan's forces disappeared into the darkness, a lone figure emerged from the shadows of the crumbling fortress.

Tōsen Kaname stood still, head slightly tilted as though listening to something only he could hear.

His blindfold concealed his eyes, but his spiritual senses extended in all directions.

"...Strange," he muttered.

"I should've sensed Las Noches long ago… but it's as though this entire region was… empty."

He stepped forward, his sandals pressing into the cold, white sand.

"And why… does that presence feel so familiar?"

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