Room 46 - Central Government, Underground Convention Hall
In the dimly lit hall, a single beam of light suddenly illuminated Ito Makoto's face.
He glanced around and realized he stood at the very center of the chamber, encircled by forty-six seats arranged in three tiers. Each seat bore a number, from one to forty-six, forming a solemn, circular tribunal.
"So this is the legendary Central Forty-Six Room..."
The Central Forty-Six Room was the highest judicial body in the Soul Society, consisting of forty sages and six judges. Its members, typically nobles or veteran officials, wielded immense influence. The institution held absolute authority over all divisions of the Gotei 13—save for the elusive Zero Division.
As Makoto observed the assembly, he noticed the first ten sages' seats remained conspicuously empty, while seats eleven through forty-six were fully occupied.
"So, to the top ten sages, the deaths of nearly a hundred noble-born prodigies mean nothing?"
A commanding voice suddenly echoed from behind the screen marked with the number seventeen.
"Makoto Ito, Fourth Seat of the Eleventh Division!"
The hall fell silent as the voice continued, stern and unwavering.
"During the Hunting Conference incident, your failure to protect resulted in the deaths of nearly one hundred talented young nobles!"
"As punishment, you are hereby expelled from the Gotei 13 and permanently barred from reinstatement. However, in light of your contributions to protecting Kisumi, this judgment is mitigated."
The voice behind the screen ceased, and a moment later, a woman's voice, sharp and deliberate, emerged from behind the screen labeled eleven.
"Therefore, you will serve a penalty of three hundred years! Regardless of your future position, you shall receive no salary for this duration."
Though the voice was intentionally disguised, Makoto recognized it instantly—Lady Kisumi. His lips twitched in response.
He cast an instinctive glance toward the screen marked eleven. Though obscured by a specialized Kido barrier, he could almost make out the mocking gaze of Kisumi piercing through.
"So be it."
He had half-expected Kisumi to take this opportunity to falsely accuse him of conspiring with the Hollows. But as Kiyonosuke Yamada had predicted, the situation had been resolved without further escalation.
Yet, he could not forget what had occurred in the Hunting Conference—the dark truth of Kisumi's actions, her willingness to sacrifice lower-ranking nobles as mere fodder for the Mitsuyao blade.
Ito Makoto exhaled and muttered under his breath:
"Who here dares to accuse me?"
Emerging from the underground chamber of Room 46, Makoto found Kiyonosuke Yamada awaiting his own verdict.
"Kiyonosuke Yamada, for dereliction of duty resulting in the deaths of nearly a hundred noble-born members, the verdict is as follows—
You are expelled from the Gotei 13 and permanently barred from reinstatement!"
Meanwhile, beneath the underground chamber, within the video hall of the Grand Spirit Library Corridor, two figures watched intently as events unfolded.
Captain Sosuke Aizen of the Fifth Division and Captain Gin Ichimaru of the Third Division observed the Hunting Conference incident play out on a screen before them. However, even the surveillance Kido of the Great Spirit Library Corridor could only capture limited footage. The display showed the moment a massive Hollow, Fleur, unleashed a beam of light, piercing through the barrier and rescuing Wonderweiss Margela.
Gin chuckled, his expression unreadable.
"Oh? This Hollow is rather intriguing. Its ability can bypass barriers so easily… I wonder if it could also slip through the Soul Society's spirit-sealing membrane? If so, that might just be our way out."
Aizen remained silent, his gaze locked on the display, his fingers lightly adjusting the black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. His eyes lingered for a moment on the image of Ito Makoto emerging from the barrier.
"Gin," Aizen mused, his tone unreadable. "What do you suppose happened inside that barrier?"
Gin's signature sly grin deepened as he responded with feigned nonchalance.
"Ah, Captain Aizen, you sure love giving people riddles. If I had to guess, I'd say the Kasudaru family got themselves tangled up in something dangerous… like the Mitsuyao."
He shrugged, his usual lazy drawl betraying an underlying amusement.
Aizen remained quiet, his mind already weaving possibilities in the web of his grand schemes.
Aizen didn't seem the least bit upset by Ichimaru Gin's casual attitude. Instead, he offered a faint smile.
"The so-called Matsuyao Sword is nothing more than an external tool. True power lies in looking inward, pushing oneself to the limit, and then breaking past it. That is why the strong remain strong."
"The Kisumi family has spent centuries chasing after this ideal, yet now they stand humbled before me."
"To call oneself strong simply because one sets the rules is laughable. In my eyes, they are nothing more than slightly larger ants."
"As for the Central Forty-Six, who uphold these hollow doctrines... they are nothing but dry bones rotting in a tomb."
"This decayed and crumbling Soul Society—what a pitiful sight."
Ichimaru Gin, unfazed by Aizen's speech, maintained his usual sly smile. "Oh, Captain Aizen, you always have such philosophical things to say."
After leaving the underground chamber of the Central Forty-Six, Makoto Ito made his way to the 11th Division's quarters. The Kisumi family had maneuvered behind the scenes, bringing the so-called Hollow Disaster incident to a close. As for the punishment of forfeiting his salary for the next three hundred years, Makoto Ito couldn't have cared less. After all, how long he would remain in the Soul Society was uncertain—what was certain was that those who passed judgment on him wouldn't be around for long.
As he neared the 11th Division barracks, he saw someone he had expected yet still wished he hadn't encountered.
An old man with disheveled hair and a frail, haggard frame stood before him.
Makoto Ito sighed. "Oh, Senior Yano... why are you here?"
The man was Masahiko Yano. The last time Ito had seen him, half a month ago, he had been full of vigor. Now, in just a short time, he looked utterly broken.
"Ito-dono... you were there, inside the barrier that day. I... I only want to know—how did my poor granddaughter die?"
Yano's voice trembled, bordering on delirium.
Makoto Ito remained silent for a moment before responding in an even tone.
"Didn't the Kisumi family already provide an answer? She died in the Hollow Disaster."
His voice was calm, but he deliberately emphasized Kisumi as he spoke.
Yano Masahiko didn't say another word. He simply bowed to Makoto Ito, turned, and walked away. His departing figure carried an unmistakable air of sorrow and resignation.
As soon as Makoto Ito stepped into the 11th Division's main hall, he sensed the tense atmosphere.
Inside, Kenpachi Zaraki, Yachiru Kusajishi, Ikkaku Madarame, and Yumichika Ayasegawa were all waiting for him.
"Well, well, if it isn't Fourth Division's Vice-Captain Ito. What brings you to our 11th Division?" Ikkaku sneered, his grin laced with mockery.
Makoto Ito raised an eyebrow. "Ha? Senior Ikkaku, what's that supposed to mean?"
Before he could say anything more, Ikkaku shoved a document into his hands, his expression sour.
Makoto Ito glanced down at the paper and felt his grip tighten.
"The Central Forty-Six just docked my salary for three hundred years, and now they're appointing me as the Fourth Division's Vice-Captain?"
He let out a dry chuckle. "Just what kind of game is the Central Forty-Six playing now?"
Still, he wasn't about to complain. His plan had always been to find an opportunity to join the Fourth Division. He just hadn't expected the appointment to come so soon—it was as if someone had handed him a pillow the moment he lay down.
"Makoto Ito, you've been promoted! Doesn't that call for a celebration?" Ayasegawa chimed in with a smirk.
Makoto Ito sighed, pressing his fingers to his forehead. "Senior, please spare me. I just lost three hundred years' worth of pay!"
Just then, Kenpachi Zaraki, who had been lounging in the main seat, stood up. His lips curled into a grin, eyes gleaming with battle lust.
"Oi, Ito. You're leaving the 11th Division, huh? Then how about a fight before you go?"
Without waiting for a response, he lifted his sword.
Ikkaku laughed, drawing his own Zanpakutō.
The next day, bandaged from head to toe, Makoto Ito arrived at the Fourth Division barracks to report for duty.
Kaori Umaru gasped at the sight of him. "Vice-Captain Ito... what happened to you? Do you need treatment?"
Makoto Ito could only sigh.
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