Bleach: Watch Closely, This Is How You Use a Zanpakutō
Chapter 395: I Can Take On a Hundred

Chapter 395: Chapter 395: I Can Take On a Hundred

Just as the group was caught in a brief moment of calm, three surges of Reiatsu far beyond the level of ordinary Captains suddenly erupted.

Fortunately, Lieutenant Chōjirō Sasakibe reacted swiftly, immediately unleashing his own Reiatsu to shield against the crushing pressure.

Though his efforts managed to hold back the brunt of it, the sheer weight of those three terrifying forces still left the surrounding soldiers struggling to breathe, as if three massive mountains were pressing down on their chests.

But just as suddenly as those three overwhelming Reiatsu had appeared, they vanished.

Recognizing the familiar spiritual signatures, Masatsuki Aozaki let out a helpless sigh and peeled Rangiku Matsumoto off him, setting her back on her feet.

He had sensed those Reiatsu long before they arrived—he just hadn’t cared. Now, he casually glanced toward the source.

The old man appeared in a flash of Shunpo, moving at astonishing speed. In his hand, he carried a severed head—white-haired, black-skinned—slowly dissolving into Reishi.

One couldn’t help but admire the old man’s composure. Holding the head of a former comrade and still remaining calm, though his expression was noticeably grim.

A second later, Kenpachi Zaraki came barreling in behind him, striding heavily.

Shunpo wasn’t exactly Zaraki’s strength, but with his overwhelming Reiatsu backing him, even rough technique translated into a speed that surpassed most of the Gotei 13 Captains.

Kenpachi was grinning from ear to ear—he’d clearly enjoyed himself.

Yamamoto’s eyes scanned the scene with a complex expression before settling on Masatsuki Aozaki.

"Where are they?!"

Masatsuki answered calmly.

"I’ve already sent them back to Hell."

...

Yamamoto went silent for a few seconds, expanding his spiritual perception. Then he let out a quiet breath of relief.

He adjusted his expression, regaining that steady, unshakable air of authority, and asked in a low tone:

"Captain Aozaki, the ones you fought earlier... they were Furōfushi Saitō, Batsu’unsai Katori, and Saizō Sakahone, the Captains of the original Gotei 13?"

Masatsuki nodded.

"Yeah. Pretty sure it was them. They looked just like the portraits in your room."

Yamamoto’s face grew heavy. He muttered under his breath:

"I see... No wonder their Reiatsu felt so familiar. This is going to be a problem."

Masatsuki gave a slight shrug.

The old man’s concern wasn’t hard to understand.

During the nearly hundred years Masatsuki had trained under Yamamoto, he’d occasionally heard stories about the past.

The first generation of Gotei 13 Captains—though slightly weaker than Masatsuki’s own generation—were by far the most vicious in history.

They were all ruthless monsters. In some ways, even more terrifying than man-eating Hollows.

That’s not to say they weren’t powerful. They were.

But there was no helping it—Masatsuki Aozaki alone had raised the upper limit of what a Gotei 13 Captain could be.

Outside of his generation, those first-generation Captains were still undeniably the strongest.

Their Reiatsu started at Second-Class Spiritual Power and above. Third-Class wasn’t even worth mentioning—completely unqualified to share the same battlefield.

Yet even with that level of power, seven of them still died in the war a thousand years ago.

Of the six who survived, only Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni and Retsu Unohana lived beyond the war. The others all passed away within a century.

That alone spoke volumes about how powerful the Quincy were.

Yamamoto’s eyes turned distant, complicated emotions surfacing. He murmured to himself:

"I personally conducted the Konsō rituals for them... They should have been resting in Hell. Has something happened down there?"

He paused, then turned to Chōjirō Sasakibe.

"Chōjirō, go summon the elders of the Yomi Clan immediately. Have them send someone to the 1st Division."

Chōjirō responded respectfully.

"Yes."

Then he turned and departed to carry out the order.

...

...1st Division, meeting room.

Yamamoto sat at the head seat, the Captains lined up orderly on either side.

Masatsuki Aozaki stood in the center, facing Yamamoto. Under the watchful eyes of the other Captains, he calmly recounted the full details of what had happened.

By the time he finished, some of the newer Captains stared wide-eyed, their worldviews visibly shaken.

"The original Captains have returned?"

Souls with Third-Class Spiritual Power or higher, due to the immense Reiatsu within their Reishi, cannot naturally return to the world after death—they must be sent to Hell.

Those who had once participated in the Konsō ceremonies knew this well. They had long accepted that one day, they too would face the same fate.

But no one had ever imagined that those sent to Hell could come back to the Three Worlds.

That revelation was too shocking for many, including Shinji Hirako, to immediately accept.

Millions of years had passed since ancient times, and the number of powerful souls with Third-Class Spiritual Power or above sent into Hell was beyond counting.

And now, not only could they return—but whether they came willingly or were forced—they might carry hostility toward a world already teetering on the edge.

Faced with that, how were they supposed to defend themselves?

All eyes turned to Yamamoto, hoping the thousand-year pillar of the Gotei 13 would give them an answer.

But Yamamoto said nothing.

He didn’t respond with empty, meaningless platitudes. Instead, he turned toward the one who looked completely unfazed—his own disciple.

"Captain Aozaki. Without destroying the world... how many of those high-level enemies could you handle?"

Masatsuki Aozaki chuckled.

"Don’t think I still need to rely on Ryūjin Jakka."

"Heh... Bare-handed? I could take a hundred!"

"Why would Captains fight you bare-handed instead of using their Zanpakutō?" Shinji Hirako muttered under his breath.

The other Captains clearly weren’t surprised—they were already used to this kind of talk.

Masatsuki didn’t get offended. Instead, he placed his hands on his hips and declared smugly:

"When I said ’bare-handed,’ I meant me!"

Seeing his confident expression, more than a few in the room twitched at the corners of their eyes.

Shinji opened his mouth, then closed it again after quietly saying, "No wonder you carry the title of the strongest Kenpachi."

Kenpachi—the title reserved for the strongest in Soul Society.

There had been no shortage of formidable fighters among the generations of Kenpachi. But was the title always deserved?

In the past, every Captain would’ve said, "No."

Because Yamamoto had always stood above them all.

He was the pinnacle of the Shinigami—undisputed across all eras.

Until Masatsuki Aozaki appeared.

He had surpassed Captain-Commander Yamamoto, turning Kenpachi into a title that truly meant "the strongest Shinigami," not just in name, but in fact.

Seeing that no one objected, Yamamoto couldn’t help but lift the corners of his mouth in a smile.

As expected of his disciple—his strength had been fully recognized by all.

Still, while Yamamoto had complete faith in Masatsuki’s power, the claim of handling a hundred Captain-class opponents bare-handed seemed... questionable.

With a Zanpakutō, Yamamoto himself had no doubt he could take on a hundred.

Against Zanka no Tachi, numbers meant nothing.

But bare-handed... he had to admit—even he couldn’t manage that.

Masatsuki’s Hakuda skill did surpass his own, yes. But taking on a hundred Captains? That might be stretching it.

Ten? Now that, Yamamoto could reluctantly believe.