When Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto issued orders to the groups, the Hueco Mundo expeditionary force at the base had already clashed with the invading Adjuchas.
"Kill!"
Dark figures shot out, forming groups of several or a dozen, charging at one or two Adjuchas.
In terms of absolute strength, most of the Shinigami squad members were no match for these Adjuchas, whose power rivaled high-ranking officers.
However, through long battles with Seireitei and Hollows in the human world, they had developed tactics to surround and kill large or powerful enemies.
Led by one or two with the fastest Shunpo, the others supported with Kidō and Zanpakutō assaults, like a well-coordinated raid team, gradually wearing down these far stronger Hollows.
This was the result of years of combat and practice.
Yet, despite this, the Adjuchas were no easy foes.
Just like most raid teams, one mistake could lead to a wipe.
The expeditionary force faced the same danger—even more so!
"Kidō Thirty-One: Red Cannon!"
A Kidō blast exploded behind an Adjucha, but the smoke revealed a giant, scythe-like hand that instantly killed a tall Shinigami squad member.
"Release, Erosion Water!"
A roaring officer activated his Shikai, charging desperately and slashing at the monster, leaving only shallow marks on its steel skin.
"Roar!"
The deafening roar shook the heavens as a dozen giant Adjuchas rampaged through the hundreds of Shinigami, a scene like a hellish painting.
One wrong step could land you on a fallen comrade's body.
"Boom!"
Kūra Yashiki Ryūma roared, commanding Gōrutenrō to charge while firing mid-level Kidō.
However, their strength was negligible against these giants.
Gōrutenrō's massive sphere was easily swatted away, its round body dented mid-air, crashing into the pale sand, creating a crater and a cloud of dust.
Ryūma froze.
The next moment, the Adjucha's crimson eyes turned to him.
Its thick arm swung like a hammer.
'Damn!'
But as the arm fell, the Adjucha's body stiffened.
The heavy fist grazed Ryūma, slamming into the sand with a dull thud.
"Empty and colorless, the pure land of Mount Sumeru, my image also twists."
"Fubakugen!"
Genryūsai's calm voice echoed.
The bespectacled uncle, looking like a kindergarten principal, pressed his sword's hilt, adjusting his glasses with his middle finger.
Simultaneously, within a 30-meter radius around him, seven rampaging Adjuchas were sliced in half by invisible blades.
The space-cutting blades twisted, bisecting their massive bodies, which fell with a crash.
Blood splattered, staining the pale desert red.
As the masks shattered and turned to dust, Genryūsai walked calmly through the crowd.
The Shinigami parted to let him pass.
He patted Ryūma's head, his voice aged:
"Kid, stay back."
"Don't get too close."
"Your butt might split in two."
Ryūma held back a retort for a long time.
Butts are already split in two, right?
However, the crowd remained silent.
Despite Genryūsai instantly killing several Adjuchas, no one cheered.
Because ahead, a slender figure with pink, shoulder-length hair stood among the Adjuchas—a "tiny" Vasto Lorde.
Everyone felt the crushing pressure, like deep-sea water.
Not just physically, but breathing, movement, even thoughts, were suppressed, unable to move.
Among the terrified crowd, only Genryūsai remained calm, ignoring the Vasto Lorde's terrifying spiritual pressure.
He drew his sword, still looking like a retired uncle, pushing his glasses with his middle finger.
"Oh dear, a Vasto Lorde, a rare sight."
"My first time seeing one in person."
"What brings you here, sir?"
"By the way... can you speak?"
Salapollo looked at him, his smile twitching nervously, seeming slightly manic—or more spirited than usual.
"What a rude gentleman."
"Rather than asking what brings me, it's—"
His voice suddenly changed, arrogant and grating:
"You bastards invading my territory and killing! How dare you ask me?!"
As his voice fell, Salapollo shot forward like an arrow, attacking Genryūsai.
As he moved, the Adjuchas behind him charged at the Shinigami army, as if on command.
"This is why I dislike leading troops."
Genryūsai sighed, helpless.
But as he raised his eyes, they sharpened.
"This wastes my scholarly image."
"Blabbering fool!"
With his "brother's" voice, Salapollo's afterimage twisted, appearing before Genryūsai. His arm extended into a bone blade, slashing at him with a piercing sound.
"Fubakugen · Mount Sumeru!"
Genryūsai's sword created a black portal, cutting through space.
Salapollo's blade was effortlessly nullified, unable to resist the spatial blade.
His eyes narrowed, his body twisting to avoid inertia. A wing-like blade erupted from his back, slashing at Genryūsai.
And not just that.
Shoulders, arms, elbows, knees, legs, wings!
Every protruding bone formed blades, launching a storm of high-speed strikes at Genryūsai.
The Vasto Lorde's physical strength and spiritual pressure were overwhelming. Even his Resonating Movement was too fast for ordinary squad members to see, let alone his faster strikes.
However, seeing his chaotic attacks, Genryūsai merely smirked.
"Attacking like this, you need to learn the basics."
"Vasto Lorde."
With a casual voice, Genryūsai didn't even use spatial blades. He simply blocked all attacks with his sword.
Bone and Zanpakutō clashed at high speed, silently.
"Retreat, fool!"
A cold voice, different from the mad one, erupted from Salapollo.
As he retreated, he scanned his body.
"Crack, crack..."
His sharp bone blades shattered, leaving fragments.
His body was covered in fine, net-like scars.
His calm eyes suddenly looked at Genryūsai's seemingly ordinary sword.
If you looked closely, a thin, half-inch layer of twisted space covered the blade—a fixed spatial blade.
Genryūsai saw Salapollo's serious expression, adjusted his wobbly glasses, and said calmly:
"Don't judge by my appearance."
"I was once a famous swordsman in Rukongai."
"Is that so."
Salapollo smiled, his wounds rapidly healing, reconnecting limbs nearly cut by the spatial blade.
Hyper-regeneration.
"My stupid brother chose the wrong approach."
"Hey! Sal!" His inner voice tried to interrupt but was suppressed, "Then how do you defend against gas?"
"Snap!"
Salapollo snapped his fingers.
His wings suddenly expanded, tumor-like growths releasing deep red mist.
Genryūsai's face changed.
"Scatter!"
His voice boomed.
But for the Shinigami fighting Adjuchas, it was too late.
The mist spread, engulfing both Shinigami and Adjuchas.
Everyone's skin seemed invaded by living things, swelling, writhing like rats, until reaching their heads—
—and exploding!
In an instant, dozens of Shinigami were consumed.
Genryūsai's eyes narrowed, his anger evident. He stabbed his sword into the sand.
"Clang!"
An invisible spatial blade formed a giant hemisphere, engulfing both him and Salapollo.
The mist lost its source.
"Fubakugen · One Foot of Pure Water."
Genryūsai's sword pointed at Salapollo's vitals.
"Oh dear!"
Salapollo laughed sarcastically, his body burrowing into the sand like a snake, reappearing elsewhere.
"Don't panic, noble Shinigami."
"After all, the dead are just your dispensable servants, right?"
"Let me test my new drug."
Genryūsai vanished and reappeared, his sword slicing through the air silently, cutting a 10-meter swath in the sand.
His voice was cold but serious:
"Nonsense."
"They're my most cherished subordinates!"
Salapollo paused, a playful expression on his face.
But in that brief moment.
"Boom!"
A long naginata slashed at Salapollo's head, leaving a white shockwave in the air, the blade glowing red.
"Kuri Karara · Rage."
"Slash!"
The blade cut through steel skin and skull, half his head flying off, brain matter splattering.
Genryūsai, drawing attention, showed surprise.
But the next moment, his expression changed.
"Katori!"
As he spoke, Salapollo's headless body spun, his leg sweeping up with bone blades, kicking at Katori.
"Boom!"
Fortunately, Kuri Karara was a sturdy weapon, and Katori was strong.
She blocked the kick with the naginata, a deafening explosion echoing.
Her small body flew dozens of meters, feet buried in the sand, barely standing.
"Close call!"
"Almost killed you, Shinigami."
Salapollo still spoke arrogantly, pretending to adjust his missing head.
But he still smiled.
"Too bad... usually, a Hollow's weak point is its masked head."
"But unfortunately, I moved it elsewhere."
"Guess where, everyone?"
Salapollo spread his arms, smiling arrogantly.
Until a figure pierced through space, appearing like a shadow, roaring:
"I'll guess your ass!"
Salapollo's pupils shrank, instinctively guarding his lower abdomen.
But the next second, his eyeball nearly popped out, his body folding diagonally, crashing into the sand.
Sand scattered in all directions.
Fujimiya Makoto dusted his clothes, sneering:
"You thought hiding your mask in your pelvis would go unnoticed?"
"Pervert!"
Everyone turned to him.
A unanimous thought arose.
Makoto.
Guessing the mask's location, you're the true pervert!