BLEACH: SURVIVAL SYSTEM

Jūshirō Ukitake and Kyōraku Shunsui had initially assumed that Akira was not proficient in melee combat. Given that he was only a hundred years old—a mere child by Shinigami standards—it seemed natural to believe that his expertise lay in long-range attacks.

After all, human energy is limited, and within a mere century, mastering every aspect of combat to perfection is nearly impossible. Furthermore, the abilities Akira had previously displayed emphasized powerful ranged techniques, reinforcing the belief that he specialized in long-distance combat.

But the scene unfolding before them shattered that assumption entirely.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The relentless clash of blades rang out like a blacksmith hammering iron. Akira was not losing ground at all!

"No way… He's holding his own against Captain Zaraki?" Kyōraku muttered in disbelief.

Jūshirō was equally stunned. "I remember he's only a hundred years old, right?"

"But this swordsmanship… Can someone that young really have such skill?"

Akira's mastery of the blade was so refined that even the two seasoned Captains felt a sense of inadequacy. If it were only a matter of high Reiatsu and a powerful Zanpakutō ability, it could be attributed to raw talent—an innate gift. But swordsmanship?

There were no shortcuts to this craft. No matter how gifted a person was, true skill required relentless training—day and night, year after year. Even prodigies could only reduce the time needed for mastery, not bypass it entirely.

"Wait! Look again!" Kyōraku suddenly exclaimed, his eyes widening in shock.

Jūshirō followed his gaze, his own expression mirroring Kyōraku's astonishment.

"That swordsmanship—it's not even his limit!"

They could see it clearly now. Akira wasn't just holding his own against Kenpachi; he was improving with every exchange. Each movement, each clash of blades, refined his technique further, making him visibly stronger before their very eyes.

"This… this is unreal! He's growing stronger in battle?!"

They had seen many prodigies in their time, but nothing like this.

"I'm afraid in front of Captain-class powerhouses like this, no one else can truly claim to be a genius…" Jūshirō murmured, a bead of cold sweat running down his forehead.

What they didn't realize was that, during his duel with Kenpachi, Akira was rapidly integrating his knowledge of swordsmanship—refining, adapting, and evolving in real-time.

Kenpachi noticed it too. And he laughed.

"Hahahaha! Yes! That's it! This is what makes a fight worthwhile!"

His grin widened, his bloodlust surging. "Besides Unohana Retsu, you're the only one I've ever respected in battle!"

Without warning, his Reiatsu exploded, growing even more monstrous, his movements becoming sharper and faster.

"Then I'll give you everything I've got! Try not to die too quickly… or I'll be very disappointed!"

As the battle unfolded, the expressions of Jūshirō Ukitake and Kyōraku Shunsui tensed.

"Zaraki... he's truly a monster!"

Watching Kenpachi's overwhelming speed and strength, the two seasoned Captains couldn't help but feel an almost instinctive dread. They silently asked themselves—if they were in Akira's position, enduring Zaraki Kenpachi's relentless onslaught, could they withstand even his raw swordsmanship in close combat?

The answer was clear—no.

However, at that moment, Akira, who had fought silently until now, spoke calmly.

"You told me to be careful not to die? When did I ever say that I was using my full strength?"

By now, Akira had fully absorbed every aspect of swordsmanship and unleashed his Observation Haki. With this heightened perception, Kenpachi's every move became transparent—no strike, no technique could escape his awareness. There was no room for surprises or hidden attacks.

"Is this... a joke?"

As Akira and Kenpachi's exchange grew even more intense, sweat formed on Kyōraku's brow. The sheer spectacle of the battle sent a chill down his spine.

"Akira's swordsmanship... it has no openings!"

This terrifying realization dawned upon both Kyōraku and Ukitake. Kenpachi's attacks were only becoming faster and more ferocious, yet no matter how he struck, he couldn't break through Akira's defenses.

"Impeccable swordsmanship—like a rock standing unshaken before a raging tide." Jūshirō Ukitake murmured.

With Observation Haki, Akira could anticipate Kenpachi's moves before they were even executed. Every shift in stance, every twitch of muscle, every change in breathing—it all gave away the next attack.

Kenpachi, for the first time in his life, felt something truly unfamiliar.

"What is this?! No matter what I try, it's as if he already knows!"

It was an experience completely alien to him. He was being outmaneuvered at every turn, his attacks rendered ineffective. And yet—despite being cornered—he felt nothing but exhilaration.

"You're strong…! This is incredible!" Kenpachi roared with laughter, his wild Reiatsu flaring as it coiled around his blade.

"Sword Pressure!"

A devastating slash tore through the battlefield, forcing Akira to evade. The sheer force of the attack sent Kyōraku and Ukitake stumbling backward, struggling to resist the spiritual pressure. The very air within a hundred-meter radius seemed to burn away.

Akira, however, simply smirked.

"Switching tactics?" he remarked. "Fine. Then I'll respond in kind."

With that, he mimicked Kurosaki Ichigo's future combat style, gathering immense spiritual pressure at the edge of his blade without releasing it outright. By maintaining the compressed energy along the weapon's surface, he maximized destructive power while conserving his spiritual energy. Each strike now carried nearly the same force as a Bankai release.

Kyōraku and Ukitake could only watch in stunned silence.

They knew—the real battle was just beginning.

Without hesitation, they retreated hundreds of meters.

They had no intention of being caught in the crossfire.

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