No Cheat in Bleach ? Watch me help Aizen then.

A summer afternoon in London. The sun shone just right.

On a spacious cruise ship drifting along the Thames, three women stood frozen, stunned, staring at the stranger who had just been summoned before them.

"Oh? Where am I now?"

Higashi Shuuichi looked around at the three familiar figures and smiled.

An audacious idea crossed his mind—

And before the thought was even finished, he acted on it.

"This is London, under the jurisdiction of West Seireitei. Who are you?"

Tōma Sayako's expression, a mix of ease and joy, immediately tensed with wariness.

She couldn't make sense of what had just happened.

Even if Shuuichi had sent someone in his stead, surely it would've been a trusted soul reaper—someone aware of their situation here.

But this man clearly wasn't a Shinigami. No shihakushō, no zanpakutō.

"Who am I? You summoned me from the Human World—and now you ask who I am?"

Shuuichi looked at Sayako, lips curled faintly.

Gone were the noble robes from their Seireitei days. Sayako now wore a sharp, breezy British-style mini skirt—a different kind of elegance altogether.

"I summoned you because you had a Hell-sigil engraved on you. That's all. I have no idea who you are or where you came from."

Sayako's unease deepened. The man's tone, the smirk tugging at his mouth, the gaze that roamed over her—it all made her uncomfortable.

She hated that kind of look.

Only Higashi Shuuichi had ever been allowed to look at her like that.

"Is that so? Then I suppose I should introduce myself?"

Shuuichi, fully aware of how the Yomi Basara functioned, already had something mischievous in mind: test whether Rangiku and Shūsuke had improved after all these years.

"My name is Tōno Takuya—as you see, a wild Quincy~"

He performed a mock-gentleman's bow, mimicking the mannerisms buried in Takuya's fabricated memories.

"Quincy?"

Sayako couldn't believe it.

A Quincy… summoned through her clan's sigil? But that wasn't the worst part.

"How do you know the Tōma Clan's sigil?!"

There was a sharp edge to her voice now.

While the sigils weren't dangerous secrets—they required Yomi Basara to function—the knowledge itself wasn't meant for outsiders.

Learning of it without permission was a serious breach.

"Oh, that thing on the puppet body? You say it's yours? That's interesting.

Aren't the Tōma one of the Five Great Noble Houses?

Is that not enough status, so now you send automatons to assault Soul Society and cause mass casualties?"

Shuuichi's tone dripped with sarcasm, eyes never leaving Sayako's face.

"What? Puppet? Assault? I don't know what you're talking about!"

Sayako's brows furrowed. Her gut screamed—something wasn't right.

"You really don't know, huh?"

He could read her in an instant. A skill honed through countless battles with his Hollow side.

Her reaction was genuine.

She knew nothing of the Kaizō Saizō incident.

Then who was behind that puppet's sigil?

Could another member of the Tōma clan be alive—hiding in Soul Society or the Human World?

"I truly have no idea what you're referring to."

Sayako admitted it plainly.

Shuuichi grinned.

"That's fine. Doesn't matter. What matters is… as a Quincy, I've struggled to find a worthy opponent.

I was even planning to masquerade as one of those puppets to storm Seireitei myself."

He raised his left hand, infused reishi into his bloodstream—activating Blut Vene, the Quincy blood-activated technique.

"But since you're all soul reapers, this should be fun enough~"

This man's insane.

The thought struck all three women simultaneously.

How arrogant must someone be to believe they could take on Soul Society alone?

But their reactions diverged. Sayako's eyes briefly softened with regret, but hardened again into steel.

"Then prepare to be disappointed, Quincy Tōno Takuya.

Your arrogance will be your downfall!"

Sayako's voice was ice.

At the same time, Nagazawa Satomi quietly stepped back, activating a reiryoku-concealment field.

They were foreigners in West Seireitei territory.

Any spiritual disturbance would be seen as a provocation by the Wizards—the native magic-users.

They'd learned that lesson the hard way years ago.

So now, they fought like Higashi Shuuichi—clean, efficient, untraceable.

"Hadō #4: Byakurai!"

A streak of white lightning erupted from Rangiku's fingertips.

Shuuichi sidestepped using Hirenkyaku, the Quincy flash step, and dodged easily.

"You're opening with that? Isn't that a little rude?"

He smiled. "Don't worry. I won't hold back."

"Heilig Pfeil."

He mimed a gun with his fingers—white spirit particles condensed into a glowing reishi arrow—then fired.

Rangiku was mid-incantation.

"Bakudō #39: En—!"

Too late.

The arrow blurred through the air like a white meteor.

It clipped her right arm—missed vital organs by a hair.

Still, her eyes widened.

That speed... it was almost faster than thought.

"Rangiku!"

Sayako fired a fireball—

Hadō #31: Shakkahō!

And Satomi followed, calling out her own Fullbring.

"Fullbring: Lotus Pearl!"

A spectral lotus, five petals wide, bloomed beneath them.

More than before.

Shuuichi noticed.

Satomi's grown, then. Not stagnating.

Even Sayako, now casting kidō… that was new.

He smirked.

She hated kidō before. Guess she finally matured a little.

From his palm, light flared.

"Script Alpha: Fabricated Future."

A machine took shape beside him—a half-height canine with sleek metal limbs, built from spirit particles alone.

But he wasn't done.

He coated it in reishi—

"Reishi Consolidation."

In a breath, it gleamed like a creature clad in Blut Vene.

All of it—done in a heartbeat.

This was the result of Takuya's tireless training.

No rest. No boredom. No fatigue.

A vessel of pure function, achieving terrifying refinement.

Shuuichi turned to Rangiku.

She was his target.

Behind him, Sayako faced the mechanical beast—Alpha.

It lunged.

With a crack of spirit underfoot, it leapt into the air—then swallowed Sayako's Shakkahō whole.

Sparks flared from its jaws.

"What the hell...?"

Rangiku froze.

She knew the basics of Quincy power.

But this… this mechanical monster?

"Freezing in battle is dangerous, Miss Soul Reaper~"

He was already in front of her, breath brushing her cheek.

"Heilig Pfeil: Scattershot."

His right hand plunged into her chest—

Not with pain, but with light.

Arrows bloomed inside her, crystal-pure at first—then stained red.

"Indecision leads to defeat. Distraction means death.

Remember that, Rangiku."

His voice was for her ears alone.

She stared, shocked—trying to find the familiarity in this stranger's face.

And then—she knew.

The arrows vanished.

Reishi surged in, knitting her wounds with surgical precision.

Spirit surgery.

A Quincy technique only masters could wield.

It had to be him.

Shuuichi-sama.

Even without the robes.

Even hidden behind this foreign face.

This power, this voice—this lesson—was his.

As her vision faded, she smiled faintly.

He had even placed reishi buffers beneath her back—so she wouldn't hit the ground too hard.

Always considerate, even now.

In these years, she had changed.

But not enough.

Not enough to surprise him.

"Rangiku!"

Satomi, unaware of the truth, charged, dagger in hand.

Her Fullbring required one condition:

The enemy must attack her while standing on the lotus.

Only then could she drag them into her personal abyss.

A first-strike kill technique.

Even Shuuichi didn't know its limit.

And he wasn't about to test it now.

He simply stepped back.

Sayako, already preparing to unleash her zanpakutō, paused.

That retreat… it didn't match the boldness he'd shown moments ago.

Unless—

He knew what Satomi's Fullbring did.

But hadn't he said he didn't know any of them?

In that moment, Sayako understood.

"You're Shuuichi-kun..."

It was the only explanation.

All the doubts vanished.

The puppet story. The false identity. The Quincy tricks.

It was all just a test.

He'd wanted to see how much they had grown.

She glanced at Rangiku, unconscious—smiling faintly.

She knew, too.

"You always say I'm childish," Sayako thought, exasperated. "But look at yourself."

She was just about to sheath her blade and call him out—

When suddenly, a massive spiritual pressure tore into the sealed battlefield.

**"You bastard!

Falling Flame Fang!"

A roar from the sky.

Flames engulfed the air as a figure crashed down toward Shuuichi.

He stepped aside effortlessly—

And smiled as he recognized the figure.

The real one had arrived.