"Huff… huff…"
When Higashi Shuuichi opened his eyes again, it was already the next morning.
He found himself sitting on a bed—Matsumoto Rangiku on his left, and Kabuto Masayako on his right.
A dream?
No. Not a dream.
He could feel a warm surge coursing through his body—an energy that was distinctly not his own.
Higashi Shuuichi understood. It must be the power of the Hōgyoku.
He'd died twice already—right here, in this world constructed by the Hollow inside him. And each time, the regenerative power granted by the fragment of the Soul King's nail inside him hadn't activated.
If not for Urahara Kisuke's Hōgyoku anchoring him from the real world, his inner Hollow would've devoured him by now.
But that wasn't the point.
The true horror lay in this: both times he'd known how he died, but never why.
An elevator out of control, unstoppable.
A man walking through his front door, unaffected by any method of resistance Shuuichi tried—utterly inevitable.
Every sign pointed to one terrifying conclusion:
The power of the Hollow inside him was not brute force. It was a rule.
As long as Shuuichi couldn't identify that rule and was forced to play within its boundaries, there was only one outcome: death.
And in the world of the Shinigami, there were only a few ways to counter a rule-based ability:
Counter it with a stronger rule. But Higashi Shuuichi didn't meet the requirements.
Overwhelm it with sheer Reiatsu. But that, too, was impossible—his spiritual pressure was the same as the Hollow's.
Find the loophole. Break the rule. That was his only path forward.
Fortunately, Higashi Shuuichi wasn't alone.
He had a cheat—an invincible trump card helping him.
He doubted even the Hollow inside him could've predicted he'd be this shameless.
So what if your rules are absolute?
I have infinite respawns.
At that moment, he understood the cruel bliss of sinners in Hell.
Kill me as many times as you want—it's just a game.
Day Three: the subway Shuuichi rode to work derailed.
Day Four: the public transport bus taking him home crashed.
Day Five: before he even left his building, a bomb-wielding robber blew up the entire complex.
Day Three Hundred Forty-Nine—at last, Shuuichi uncovered a pattern.
Every incident that led to his death was a premeditated crime.
And each one came with a warning, visible beforehand—if only he'd looked.
The elevator crash on the first day? There'd been a posted notice warning it was due for repairs. But he'd been too stunned to process it.
The intruder on the second night? It had been the young man he bumped into after work at the convenience store. But Shuuichi, still clueless about Rangiku being his girlfriend, had mistaken the icon on the guy's phone lockscreen for a Bleach anime image.
The signs were always there—hidden, sometimes poetic in their subtlety—but they were never meaningless.
They were either the motive or trigger for the deadly events.
Second insight: once a "scripted incident" began, it could not be stopped—no matter what he did.
Only twice had he survived, and both times were due to activating his Dual Bankai, using a surge of spiritual pressure to crush the rule.
But the price was steep—after each usage, he was powerless, left to be slaughtered again and again for days.
The core problem remained unsolved.
In short, based on his progress so far, Shuuichi was nowhere near mastering the Hollow inside him.
But… after this long, drawn-out struggle, his powers of observation and photographic memory had evolved beyond human limits.
Everything that happened around him was imprinted perfectly within his mind palace, categorized and cross-referenced.
Any new incident, and his brain would immediately retrieve matching data for comparison and deduction.
Another sunny, cloudless day.
Shuuichi reached the edge of this constructed world.
The street simply ended, walled off by an invisible air barrier.
People came through it. People left through it.
But Higashi Shuuichi could not pass.
He stopped walking.
Smirked.
"Hey… you know something?"
"Really, I should thank you."
"You pushed me to find out that even a human's limits… can be broken."
"Before this, I never imagined my memory could evolve this far."
There was no reply.
But Shuuichi wasn't talking to himself.
He knew the Hollow was listening.
"Honestly, I can't blame you either. If I didn't have this infinite respawn hack, you wouldn't have had to keep expanding this world, laying traps just to kill me."
"But if it were me?" He grinned. "I'd shatter the world every time. Start fresh. That's better than this half-assed sandbox."
Still no response.
But now passersby were watching him, puzzled.
"If I'm not wrong… every one of your premeditated crimes needs time to prepare."
"Between me noticing the warning… and the incident happening… there's always a delay."
"Otherwise, how do you explain all those hints I saw that never led to anything? That's not your style."
More people stopped. More stares.
But Shuuichi's eyes were locked on one person only:
A delivery driver, wearing a gray uniform, mounted on an electric scooter.
"You know what else I've figured out?"
"Each incident needs a trigger."
"And that trigger… can only be you."
The moment he said it, the world… froze.
Everyone on the street, in the cars, in the buildings—every gaze turned toward Higashi Shuuichi.
He smiled. Gotcha.
This Hollow, born from him, had failed to inherit his patience.
After a year of failure, it had grown sloppy.
"Day One—it was the building security guy, yelling at me to get on the elevator."
"Day Two—it was the landlord's wife who let the killer inside."
"You change forms every time. That was smart."
"But this time you screwed up."
"You shouldn't have followed me the whole day."
Even if only from a distance.
Shuuichi sighed.
From around the corner, a police van screeched onto the street.
Shuuichi knew what came next.
That fake delivery driver, the Hollow, had just heard a pedestrian chatting about a bank robbery.
And now… the robber had arrived.
Which meant Shuuichi's current life… was over.
But he was smiling.
Because today, he'd uncovered even more of the Hollow's rules.
"Return to the origin of battle—Bankai!
'Wounded Flesh! Blossoms on the Barren Tree!'
Hell's Screech, Sinner's Immolation, Endless Agony, Eternal Fate—
Dual Bankai: Demon Possession!!"
In one breath, Shuuichi unleashed his strongest combo yet.
Not to win.
Just to teach this bastard a lesson—after nearly a year of torment.
"Hadō #99: Kin!"
A whisper.
The Hollow, disguised as the panicked deliveryman, tried to flee.
Too late.
Shuuichi's spell bound him in place.
Even without incantation, his current Reiatsu was more than enough to hold the exposed Hollow still.
Then came the blade.
His entire spiritual pressure surged into the edge.
Fuzan.
One slash.
Heaven and earth annihilated.
The world shattered.
Darkness consumed everything.
And in the silence, as a new power began coalescing inside him, Higashi Shuuichi smiled—and fell asleep.