Chapter 72: The Pitch-Black Cage

TT, this is the second update... I was exhausted last night...

Why...

Komamura stood on a distant rooftop, watching the enormous black lantern that had suddenly appeared here. His eyes narrowed slightly behind his mask.

Was it really necessary to go this far, Tōsen? Or could it be that...

Komamura's hand unconsciously clenched tight.

Is that man truly so powerful that he would force a captain-level shinigami to reveal his trump card?

Final Form of Suzumushi: Enma Cricket.

Within the absolute space created by the zanpakutō, darkness descends, stripping anyone inside of all senses save touch—including the wielder of the Bankai itself. Only the one holding Suzumushi regains their senses, granting them an overwhelming advantage in this darkness.

Right now, Chōjirō was experiencing precisely this.

Sensation...

That was the only thing Chōjirō could feel now.

He inhaled, exhaled.

Chōjirō furrowed his brow.

This was hardly a pleasant feeling. He could distinctly sense the air passing through his nostrils and over the skin beneath, yet hear nothing of his own breath.

The surroundings were sealed off, an eerily silent space. Normally, Chōjirō could easily pick up even the faintest sound, but here, there was nothing but sensation.

Before him, utter darkness.

Around him, a silence as deep as night.

In the air, not even the suggestion of anything extraneous—just darkness.

Chōjirō was enveloped in this blackness.

“In this space, Suzumushi will rob you of sight, hearing, taste, and smell. In other words, you’ll possess nothing but touch,” Tōsen walked with ease through the pitch black, utterly unconcerned about striking any obstacles.

Perhaps he was so accustomed to darkness that it left him indifferent to this void?

“Except for the one holding Suzumushi. Sorry for the long explanation, but in any case...”

“You can’t hear any of this anyway, can you?”

With a flash—

Silence was split.

Utilizing shunpo, Tōsen appeared silently before Chōjirō, so close that their bodies nearly touched, then slashed at Chōjirō’s chest.

But just as when Chōjirō had wounded himself earlier, Tōsen’s strike merely sliced through the shihakushō and grazed the skin, failing even to draw blood.

For at the last moment, Chōjirō had instinctively leapt backward, evading the fatal blow.

“How...” Tōsen was so startled he momentarily forgot to pursue.

How could this be...

He was certain this was the first time he’d used Bankai before this man—how could Chōjirō so easily dodge his first attack?

Did he already understand the power of this Bankai? No, but...

Tōsen fell silent.

For a moment, true silence reigned within this darkness.

“That was close...” Chōjirō grinned, holding his torn clothing.

If Tōsen hadn’t been so talkative—muttering right as he closed in—and if not for Chōjirō’s thousand years of combat experience making him instinctively retreat, that sword might have split his chest open.

Though he’d just spoken, it was clear he couldn’t hear his own voice.

Chōjirō lifted his gaze, staring into the darkness before him.

This Bankai was truly troublesome—the very type he found most vexing.

That Tōsen didn’t pursue him was unexpected, but it gave him a little time to think.

He had thought his opponent a mere third-rate, and yet now found himself in a bitter struggle.

The first solution was to seize Suzumushi from Tōsen’s hand—but that required locating him and then having the strength to snatch it without losing track—of course, one could fight recklessly, as Zaraki would, but Chōjirō had no such confidence: to take a captain’s blade head-on and, unfazed, counter with a devastating blow.

To the extent of crippling the Bankai itself.

The second option: destroy the entire Enma Cricket from within with his own power—a feat beyond his kidō or shikai. He would have to use Bankai as well.

Chōjirō clicked his tongue, then scratched his head.

He’d promised Shigekuni Yamamoto before the mission he wouldn’t use his full strength. If he used Bankai here, he’d surely be severely reprimanded.

A chill suddenly swept through Chōjirō, his remaining sense of touch clearly telling him that a sharp blade was pressing against his back.

“Tch...” Recognizing the enemy’s blade by touch alone, Chōjirō dove forward, but he was a step too late.

Blood spattered. Though his evasive maneuver lessened the wound, blood still gushed from his back, warm and vivid—he could distinctly feel it dripping down his clothes to the floor.

Damn...

Though he had no way of knowing for sure, instinct told him Tōsen wouldn’t stop with just one blow. Clenching his teeth, Chōjirō relied on shunpo to move ceaselessly through the darkness.

But this could not last—his wound, though not fatal, was not something to be ignored. Constant movement prevented him from tensing the muscles in his back to slow the bleeding. If this continued, he would inevitably lose from blood loss.

If that happened, word would spread, and he’d be a laughingstock.

Therefore...

Sensing a shift in the air ahead, Chōjirō suddenly bent backward, narrowly dodging the blade that grazed his nose. He swung his zanpakutō blindly, momentarily driving Tōsen back, then raised his sword high—still in its sealed state.

“Consider it an honor, Tōsen.”

He couldn’t hear his own voice, but it didn’t matter. The words were meant for the captain before him. As long as they were spoken, that was enough.

“In a thousand years, you are the first to force me to use Bankai.”

Tōsen, of course, heard the words.

He... He truly commands Bankai?

No—if he was a shinigami of a thousand years, it would hardly be surprising.

Had they, as captains, underestimated him all along?

Crackling—

Though he couldn’t hear it, Chōjirō, by instinct, sensed the flash of lightning arcing across his blade.

It had been so long. Now, he would display his full power.

Sparks of lightning leapt from the blade, surging upward. Whether it could pierce the great lantern of Enma Cricket, he did not know, nor did he have the luxury to worry.

For the first time in ages, a fierce, wild spiritual pressure erupted from Chōjirō.

“Bankai! Radiant Palace of the Sovereign Thunder Emperor!”