Help! I am bound to Aizen!
Chapter 339

Chapter 339

2-in-1 chapter:

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Clang clang boom crack!!

Deep in the mountains, two figures clashed repeatedly, their terrifying spiritual pressure erupting alongside every budget-maxed special effect imaginable.

Yamamoto was bare-chested, his muscular frame taut with power. Each swing of his blade brought forth a tsunami of fire.

Kaelith was also bare-chested, a wild grin twisting his face.

Facing the flames of Ryūjin Jakka, he showed no fear.

Casually tossing Rixiang Jimie aside, Kaelith stepped in and twisted his waist, launching a punch—

“Open!!”

A fearsome gust surged forth, forming a blazing blue shockwave that instantly tore through Yamamoto’s flames.

Kaelith’s form followed close behind the shockwave.

One arm extended forward, the other drawn back like a bow—though it was only a fist, it held the weight of a mountain ready to strike!

“Haaah!!!”

Yamamoto gripped his blade with both hands and delivered an upward left slash.

The blade’s arc unleashed a crescent-shaped wave of fire!

Boom!!!

Blade and fist collided, releasing a massive shockwave that stripped away layers of earth and splintered trees into fibers, which were then instantly consumed by Ryūjin Jakka’s heat.

The collision of such power stirred Yamamoto’s long-dormant fighting spirit.

In the past millennium, the only time he had fought seriously was when he felled Kuruyashiki Kenpachi during the Hell Rebellion.

But that battle had been unsatisfying—a necessary action to minimize casualties, nothing more. Across all of Soul Society, only this foolish disciple could give him such an exhilarating fight.

Yamamoto grinned, baring sharp white teeth, ready to spring a surprise on Kaelith.

But Kaelith suddenly raised a hand to stop him.

“Hold it!”

“?”

“It’s noon. Time for lunch.”

“You little brat! In a real battle to the death, do you think the enemy will stop and wait for you to eat?!”

Yamamoto roared in anger.

Kaelith pondered for a moment.

“If you ask sincerely and explain things clearly... maybe they would?”

“Impossible!!”

Under Yamamoto’s disapproving gaze, the two walked several kilometers to where they had left their lunch.

They had once tried keeping the food nearby, but by the time they wanted to eat, it had already been incinerated by Ryūjin Jakka’s residual heat.

Since then, they always left the food at a safe distance when training outdoors.

Kaelith pulled out the rice balls Soifon had prepared and took a big bite.

Inside was tender, oily tuna, along with salted egg yolk and ham—tailored to Kaelith’s preference for maximum calories.

Yamamoto took a bite of his own rice ball and frowned.

“Ridiculous. What’s all this nonsense inside? A little salt and some fish is all you need.”

Kaelith grinned. “It’s a modern style from the World of the Living. You need to try new things, teacher. It’ll help you stay young.”

“?”

Yamamoto shot him a sharp look.

Kaelith quickly grabbed a long, cylindrical object.

“Look, teacher! This is a great item I brought from the World of the Living!”

He unscrewed the lid, releasing a puff of white steam.

Yamamoto leaned in. It was piping hot miso soup.

“Oh... We’ve been fighting for quite a while now. It’s impressive that it’s still hot. Not bad.”

Accepting the miso soup Kaelith poured for him, the old man took a satisfying sip.

Kaelith eyed him curiously.

“Teacher, you’re awfully calm. Have you seen thermos flasks before?”

“No. Never.”

Yamamoto shook his head.

“But something like this... I could do it with Ryūjin Jakka.”

Kaelith fell into thought.

Could this old man show a little respect for his Zanpakutō?

No wonder Ryūjin Jakka’s always annoyed with him.

After eating his fill, Kaelith stood up.

He suddenly noticed his waist felt light—he had no sword.

Only then did he remember tossing Rixiang Jimie aside during the fight.

After searching around, he found it buried in the dirt. Channeling spiritual pressure to clean off the dust, he sheathed it again.

Rixiang Jimie vibrated in gratitude....Maybe. He wasn't well versed in Zanpakuto vibrations lingo.

Yamamoto also stood, pulling at his clothes—only to find they had been ruined during the battle.

Kaelith smoothly retrieved a fresh set from his shadow space, including a Squad One captain’s haori.

“Done fighting?”

He handed over the clothes.

Eyeing the uniform and haori, Yamamoto’s brow twitched.

Taking the garments, he changed while grumbling:

“You think I have as much free time as you? As Captain-Commander, my workload is several times—no, dozens of times—that of the other captains!”

Kaelith blinked. “Zero times dozens is still zero.”

“?”

Yamamoto frowned in confusion.

Kaelith quickly coughed. “I mean... do you have any difficult matters lately? Need my help?”

“Not to boast, but I’m quite skilled at administrative tasks.”

Yamamoto scowled. “You? Administrative tasks? I can only imagine you’d just beat to death whoever caused the problem.”

“?”

Kaelith seethed.

Yamamoto finished dressing and strapped Ryūjin Jakka to his waist.

“There’s plenty of work. The aftermath of the Hell Rebellion alone is enough to drown us. Thousands of damned souls flooded into Seireitei. Though I incinerated most of them immediately, the survivors still caused considerable damage.”

“Since then, the Gates of Hell have opened several more times. You’ve noticed—you were always the first to respond.”

Yamamoto nodded approvingly at this.

“On top of that, there’s noble house squabbles and Rukongai’s countless issues. I have no time to rest. If you want to help, train more capable people. I can’t expect much else from you, but in teaching, you’ve inherited some of my talent.”

Kaelith stroked his chin thoughtfully.

The old man’s ability to teach students... does that really apply to me?

Look at the ones he trained—Kyōraku is a lazy drunk, Ukitake’s good but always sick, and as for me... pure genius. Even without a teacher, I’d have achieved greatness rivaling Sōsuke.

Crossing his arms, Kaelith gave Yamamoto a mocking chuckle.

Yamamoto’s blood pressure spiked.

Just as he was about to act, Kaelith suddenly looked skyward.

Instinctively, Yamamoto did the same.

The blue sky twisted unnaturally.

In seconds, the entire sky changed. Skyscrapers, heavy traffic—a modern city appeared inverted in the sky.

Like a mirage.

Yamamoto frowned.

“The World of the Living? Why is it showing here?”

Kaelith grinned.

“Whatever it is, it’s not good.”

A figure flash-stepped beside them.

“Report, Captain-Commander.”

“Squad Twelve reports abnormal spatial fluctuations between Soul Society and the World of the Living.”

“We’ve detected spiritual waves from the World of the Living within Soul Society!”

Yamamoto’s face darkened.

His first thought was that it was the Quincies's doing. If the Quincy were killing too many Hollows in the World of the Living, it could disrupt the balance between the two realms, drawing them dangerously close and potentially causing mutual destruction.

“Brat. You’re coming with me.”

With that, Yamamoto vanished.

Kaelith flash-stepped after him.

Back at Squad One’s barracks, Mayuri Kurotsuchi was already waiting.

“Captain Kaelith. Captain-Commander. Please, take a look.”

Without preamble, Mayuri produced a tablet. As he explained, Kaelith quickly grasped the situation.

In short, a spatial bubble had inexplicably formed between the two worlds. Normally, the two realms were separated by the Dangai and wouldn’t intersect. But this growing spatial bubble resembled a bridge.

If it fully expanded and merged with the boundaries of both realms, it would create an unimpeded passage. Even if the realms didn’t physically collide, the effect would be similar.

Yamamoto asked gravely:

“Have we sent an investigation team?”

“We did.” Mayuri shook his head. “None returned.”

“At present, we have no information on that space’s condition.”

Yamamoto pondered for a few seconds.

Then he turned to Kaelith.

“Brat, go to the World of the Living. Confirm whether the Quincy are responsible.”

“If they are, neutralize the threat immediately. Up to and including killing them all.”

Kaelith scratched his head.

“Why not just go check out the spatial bubble directly?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Impossible!” Yamamoto and Mayuri both snapped.

Mayuri quickly added, “Absolutely not. Captain Kaelith, we know too little about the Dangai. It’s filled with dangers no living being can resist.”

“No matter how strong you are, you cannot take that risk. If anything happens to you, Seireitei will fall into chaos!”

Yamamoto gave Mayuri a sideways glance.

When Mayuri had first taken his position, Yamamoto had worried. The mad scientist always seemed like he might do something outrageous on a whim. But it seemed that while his behavior was insane, his mind was quite clear.

In terms of picking subordinates, this foolish disciple of his actually had some talent.

Kaelith nodded and left.

After he was gone, Yamamoto frowned thoughtfully for a moment.

Then he turned to Mayuri.

“Captain Kurotsuchi. Notify the Kidō Corps. Prepare the Dangai Kidō Cannon.”

Mayuri blinked in surprise.

He opened his mouth as if to object.

But after a moment, he lowered his head.

“Yes, sir.”

……

*World of the Living, Yūtendō Headquarters.*

Ryūken Ishida sat in his office, watching his computer screen.

Today marked the release of a new LSP4 commercial personally shot by Kaelith.

Because he had lingering trauma from Kaelith’s creative style, he hadn’t previewed the content during internal review.

It’s the boss’s project. Whatever it is, it is.

Now that the ad was airing on TV, he finally mustered the courage to see what Kaelith had cooked up.

His eyes, hidden behind the glare of his glasses, revealed nothing.

But his tightly furrowed brow spoke volumes—he was clearly displeased.

On the screen, Kaelith appeared in a white tank top, smiling. Then he stepped forward, tore off his shirt, revealing his well-defined muscles.

Behind him, several muscular men followed him onto the stage, also ripping off their shirts to reveal their physiques.

A row of buff men wore butterfly-bow collars. Under pink-purple spotlights, they began dancing provocatively.

Throughout the routine, they occasionally chanted lines like “LSP4, the next-generation console” and “Play with your family in the living room~.”

The ad copy itself was fine.

But the delivery—in bizarre tones by dancing musclemen—made it disturbingly hypnotic.

Then, to Ryūken’s Komamura-level dismay, the musclemen suddenly began taking off their pants. Facing away from the camera, they somehow used a strange special effect to strip down instantly, revealing white briefs.

Each brief bore an English word.

Together, they formed a sentence:

*“This is the coolest console of the era.”*

Ryūken adjusted his glasses, his composure cracking.

Just when he thought it couldn’t get worse, the musclemen donned mascot costumes. Some became LSP4 consoles, others controllers, screens, and older LSP models. Wearing these partial mascot outfits, they left only their heads and legs exposed, waddling back and forth.

The scene was pure mental contamination.

Ryūken grabbed the remote and snapped the "off" button as quickly as he could. He couldn’t take it. Any more and he’d draw his spirit bow and blow up the television!

At that moment, Kaelith flash-stepped into the room.

“?!”

Ryūken’s eyes widened.

For a moment, he thought it was another part of the ad.

Thankfully, he quickly realized this was Kaelith in person.

“Hmm? I thought I heard my handsome voice just now.”

Kaelith looked around curiously.

“Your imagination,” Ryūken replied coldly.

Kaelith searched the room but found no signs of secret admiration and looked a bit disappointed.

He sat on the sofa and explained the reason for his visit.

After listening, Ryūken shot to his feet.

“Impossible!”

“I swear on the honor of the Ishida family—the Quincy activities in the World of the Living are all under my surveillance. This isn’t their doing!”

“Besides, even using the Dangai’s power, few possess the means to cause such a disturbance... There simply aren’t any Quincy in the World of the Living capable of this.”

“Please believe me!”

Ryūken knew full well—if this went sideways, it could spell doom for every Quincy in the World of the Living.

He bowed deeply, cold sweat soaking his back.

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