BLEACH: DRINKING MAKES ME STRONGER

A tangle of thoughts surged through Aoi Dai's mind.

Deep in his eyes, a flicker of cunning gleamed — he had clearly resolved to provoke violence by manipulation, aiming to use others as his blade.

He stared at Kuroba, who reeked of sake and could barely stay upright, and bellowed with a twisted sneer:

"You bastard! Always running your mouth about cutting people down — come on then! Let's see if you dare act out with a captain watching!"

Aoi's voice echoed through the hall as he snatched up a discarded Zanpakutō from the ground — no one knew who had dropped it. With bloodshot eyes and a reckless charge, he lunged toward Kuroba like a maddened bull.

In Aoi's mind, the logic was simple: he was a scion of a middle-tier noble family. That pedigree alone, he believed, would shield him from true consequence.

The captains might not intervene on his behalf — but they wouldn't let a commoner lay a hand on nobility either. Especially not in public.

That arrogance lent wings to his steps.

"Aoi's got guts, I'll give him that. Is he trying to bait Kuroba into attacking so Hinamori will step in and deal with him?"

"Smart play, honestly. Hinamori Momo's Vice-Captain of the 5th Division, and she's loyal to Aizen to a fault."

"Once she moves, Kuroba's finished — not even the Shiba name will save him."

Whispers broke out among the candidates and staff, all catching on to Aoi's ploy. Even the most naive could see the bait being laid — and the trap snapping shut.

And though Hinamori's expression showed distaste at Aoi's antics, it was clear she might still act to preserve the dignity of the 5th Division — and by extension, her captain, Aizen Sōsuke.

But then—

"Ittō-Ryū…"

A whisper like a dream rang out, stilling the room.

Everyone tensed.

Kuroba — moments ago swaying with drunken lethargy — now stood firm.

His entire posture had shifted: back straight, muscles coiled, stance lowered — like a swordsman at the verge of a deadly strike.

More terrifying than his readiness was the aura that burst out from him.

An invisible, crushing pressure, dense and primal.

Spiritual energy rippled across the floor like a stone cast into still water.

And at the center of it stood Kuroba, eyes glazed with calm fury.

Aoi Dai's bravado evaporated instantly. His knees buckled. His face drained of color.

It was as though he was being stared down by a Menos Grande.

His voice cracked in horror:

"H-Help… HELP ME!"

But the plea was cut short by the gleam of cold steel.

"Ittō-Ryū: Death Lion's Song."

Kuroba moved.

His blade arced through the air in a flash — so fast it blurred.

Even Hinamori, who had prepared to intercept, realized she wouldn't reach them in time. They were nearly eight meters apart — too far for her to interrupt a senka-level strike.

"Stop!"

A cold, authoritative shout rang out.

A second later, a compact silhouette flickered between Kuroba and his target.

With swift precision, the figure pressed a hand on Kuroba's arm, halting the draw.

Two more Shinigami flanked him, placing firm hands on Kuroba's shoulders.

In a moment, the would-be attack was neutralized.

"That's… Captain Hitsugaya Tōshirō," Kyoraku Shunsui murmured, eyebrows raised beneath his straw hat. "Didn't expect the 10th Division's child prodigy to step in."

The events in the Narrow Room had clearly made waves across the Gotei 13. And with Hinamori involved — Aizen's protégé and Tōshirō's childhood friend — it was only natural the 10th Division captain would take action.

Still, Kyoraku couldn't help but sigh in disappointment.

There was something off about Kuroba — the way his aura shifted so completely, like he housed more than one soul.

"I wanted to see how far he'd go…" Kyoraku thought.

Then, as if the pressure had never existed, Aoi Dai snapped back to life.

He threw himself behind Hitsugaya and shouted hysterically:

"Captain! You saw it, didn't you? That drunk lunatic tried to kill me! He's the one who caused chaos in the Narrow Room — he should be arrested immediately!"

Especially just moments ago, in front of the entire examination hall, he had been completely overwhelmed—frozen by the sheer force of Kuroba's spiritual pressure alone.

That trembling posture... it was a humiliation Aoi Dai could hardly endure.

"You said... let me cut you down?"

Kuroba lifted his drowsy eyelids lazily, his hand still resting on the hilt of his Zanpakutō, half-unsheathed in a casual but unmistakably threatening stance.

"Don't worry—no one here can stop me from cutting someone down."

As he grinned and bared his teeth, the mood in the corridor instantly shifted.

A deep chill surged through the air.

Everyone's hairs stood on end.

Even Hitsugaya Tōshirō, a captain standing not far from Kuroba, felt a sudden chill crawl up his spine. Instinctively, he jumped backward, gaining altitude with a flash step to distance himself.

That bizarre reaction left the gathered students and instructors stunned.

Aoi Dai was petrified.

Kuroba's blade, which had barely been blocked a moment ago, now rang sharply as it was fully drawn in a single, fluid motion.

"Ittō-ryū: Shishi no Uta (One-Sword Style: Lion's Death Song)!"

Bang!

The instant the blade moved, a black arc of spiritual pressure surged forward like a compressed crescent moon of raw force.

To the crowd, it seemed as though a shadow flashed before their eyes.

The sheer speed collapsed the air in its wake, sending shockwaves rippling across the floor.

The distance—eight, maybe nine meters—was erased in a blink.

Aoi Dai's knees buckled. His body trembled like a leaf in a storm, mind blank. He couldn't even perceive the incoming slash.

"Get down!"

Bang!

A powerful hand—likely from a nearby seated officer or one of the exam proctors—slammed Aoi Dai to the ground, pinning him in a twisted posture that looked like it could snap his spine.

At that same moment, another flash of silver cleaved the space above them.

CLANG!

The scream of metal-on-metal echoed through the corridor like a struck cathedral bell. The impact reverberated painfully through everyone's bones.

The deflected attack, a thin veil of black energy, was forcibly knocked upward.

A visible, crescent-shaped arc of condensed Reiryoku tore through the air—a hidden follow-up slash, now revealed by the forced parry.

BOOM!

In the distance, the towering archway that served as the symbolic entrance to the Hazama test space trembled... then gave way.

The massive ten-meter-tall gate was cleaved in two.

The top half of the structure groaned, tilted, and then plummeted to the ground in a thundering crash.

Bang!

Debris exploded outward. Dust engulfed the scene.

The formerly majestic stone gate now lay in ruins—rubble sprawled across the floor.

In the narrow corridor, silence reigned—until the sound of multiple candidates gulping in fear broke it.

Dozens of stunned eyes stared at the wreckage.

Pupils contracted. Faces paled.

A wave of cold sweat swept through the crowd as realization struck:

If a structure that size couldn't withstand Kuroba's blow...

Then what chance did their bodies have?

One slash. One decision. That could have been the end.

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