Help! I am bound to Aizen!-Chapter 225

Chapter 225

“Spread out and search! Move it!”

“Don’t just check the villages—look in the barren hills too!”

“Go ask around for any wandering ronin who can fight!”

In an open expanse of wasteland, the seated officers of the Eleventh Division were shouting orders.

Their squad members acknowledged them and scattered in every direction, searching for the person Kaelith wanted.

Kaelith’s intel was minimal—just three points in total:

Born in the Zaraki District, skilled at brawling, and likely traveling with a little girl.

Vague conditions, lacking even a name, but no one found that odd.

Rukongai was split into four directions—north, south, east, west—each divided into 80 numbered districts.

Any district beyond 60 was mostly wasteland, nothing but barren hills where not even a bird would roost.

The Zaraki District was North Rukongai’s 80th ward, a VIP among wastelands, the apex of barren territory.

Being born there, it would be more surprising if you did have a proper name.

Once most subordinates had fanned out, Kaelith turned to the person standing nearby.

“And why are you still here?”

Hirako Shinji kept both hands tucked in his sleeves, mouth quirking in a smirk.

“I’m free right now, so I figured I’d stay and watch. You’re trying to find someone to take over the Eleventh, right? I’m a bit curious what kind of person would catch your eye.”

Kaelith let out a soft snort.

“Then keep your eyes open.”

He drew his Zanpakutō and planted it in the ground. At once, a swath of shadow stretched upward, taking the shape of a large parasol.

Beneath it, the darkness formed into a lounge chair.

With a quick “heave,” Kaelith flopped into the seat, stretching his limbs in lazy comfort.

Hirako Shinji stared as though he’d seen a ghost.

This kid… could he possibly indulge himself any more?

He sidled closer, putting on an ingratiating grin: “C’mon now, Yu, how about making one for me too?”

“That’ll be one million.”

“…What?”

Hirako glowered.

Even a sketchy tourist trap wouldn’t charge that much, right?

He gritted his teeth. “Brat, you better think carefully. Sōsuke Aizen is my lieutenant—offend me, and I’ll be sure he causes you trouble back home!”

Kaelith blinked in surprise. “Wow, you’re not afraid of dying?”

“…Huh?”

Shinji paused, puzzled by the remark. He was about to follow up when he suddenly sensed something, frowning as he glanced back the way they’d come.

A distinct Reiatsu was flaring in that direction: sharp, almost aggressively so.

Even from afar, it felt like needles against the skin.

“That’s the 79th district… something happening?”

Kaelith also rose from his lounge chair.

He held up a hand, tasting the air’s spiritual energy. He didn’t recognize this Reiatsu, yet it felt oddly familiar—brimming with a certain eagerness, the bold spirit of a warrior.

“Hey! Who goes there? Stop—no further!”

A handful of Eleventh Division members had drawn their blades, blocking the path. A tall, lanky man was steadily striding forward under their watch.

He had long, disheveled hair and a slender face marked by a prominent scar. In his grip was a sword whose blade was so worn it looked like a jagged saw.

Anyone, no matter how careless with their weapon, would feel like an expert by comparison.

On his shoulder perched a small pink-haired girl. Behind him walked two young men, appearing around 18 or so in human terms:

One bald-headed with a rebellious look, another with mid-length hair wearing a flamboyant purple yukata.

Confronted by these hostile Shinigami, the long-haired man raised an eyebrow.

“Huh… so it’s you guys, huh.

Hey—who’s Kaelith?!”

He pointed that saw-like sword at one of the Shinigami.

“What?”

The questioned Shinigami stared blankly, baffled at the out-of-nowhere demand.

Without waiting for an answer, the man shook his head.

“No, too weak—you’re not him.”

“Hey—you Kaelith?”

He rotated the sword, pointing at another Shinigami.

The first one bristled in anger. “What the hell’s your problem?!”

He stepped in, weapons raised, prepared to strike.

But before the blade could fall, the bald youth following the swordsman lunged forward, launching a fierce kick straight into the Shinigami’s gut.

“Urgh!!”

The Shinigami let out a choked cry, bracing for a painful landing—

only for a hand to reach out and grab him midair.

Blinking in disbelief, he saw that Kaelith had caught him by the back of his uniform and gently set him aside.

“Kaelith-aniki!!”

Relieved at the rescue, the Shinigami’s eyes gleamed with gratitude.

But Kaelith didn’t even look his way.

He was focused on the quartet ahead of him: A long-haired man, a little pink-haired girl, a bald youth, and—well, a flamboyant one.

They perfectly embodied the future Eleventh Division vibe.

Zaraki Kenpachi’s crew, right in front of him!

The long-haired man took a measure of Kaelith, interest lighting his face.

“Oh… you’re not like those others.

You’re strong—a real fighter.”

“That Kiganjō guy was beaten by you, am I right?”

Kaelith was a bit intrigued. “You’re well-informed.”

The yukata-wearing man—Ayasegawa Yumichika—gave a charming laugh.

“That Kiganjō brute had been running wild around the 60th District, and everyone was sick of him.

A bunch of folks pooled their money to hire our big boss here to take him out—but we arrived only to hear someone else had already defeated him.”

“Relax, the boss isn’t here to pick a fight. He just wants to see what kind of person could beat Kiganjō.”

But even as Yumichika spoke, the long-haired man shook his head.

Grinning, he tightened his grip on that serrated sword.

“No—changed my mind.

So you’re Kaelith, huh? Let’s have a scrap! If it’s you, maybe I’ll finally enjoy myself!”

New novel 𝓬hapters are published on freёwebnoѵel.com.

Seeing Zaraki Kenpachi raring to go, Kaelith felt his own excitement rising.

“What a coincidence. I came out here precisely to find you. If I win, you’re coming with me to Seireitei to join the Gotei 13!”

“Beat me first, then we’ll talk!”

Zaraki Kenpachi bared his teeth in a savage grin and swung his sword.

Kaelith spread his hand; the Zanpakutō stuck in the ground nearby flipped into the air, spinning before landing perfectly in his grasp.

With a single upward slash, he met Zaraki’s blow head-on.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

In an instant, their blades clashed more than ten times.

Those watching—the entire group—stood amazed.

Hirako Shinji had never expected to see someone in Rukongai unleashing such oppressive sword strikes.

Madarame Ikkaku and Ayasegawa Yumichika had never imagined anyone could stand toe-to-toe with their “big boss” like this!