Chapter 51: The New King of Hueco Mundo

After a deep, alcohol-induced sleep, Kyoraku Shunsui lazily handed a letter and a contract to Uehara Shiroha.

"This is a gift and an apology letter from the Iwama family," he said, swirling his sake cup.

"Iwama?" Uehara Shiroha raised an eyebrow. The name didn't ring a bell.

Kyoraku Shunsui chuckled, as if he'd expected this reaction. "Iwama Nao, the guy who offended you last time, belongs to that family. The Iwama family has always been a subordinate branch of the Tsunayashiro family. Because of this connection, Iwama Nao was assigned as one of their guards. Now, it seems the Tsunayashiro family is trying to make amends with you."

Shunsui took a sip of his drink, his expression unreadable. Over the years, he'd seen enough of the Tsunayashiro family's ways to know exactly how they operated. He highly doubted that someone as insignificant as Iwama Nao would have dared to provoke the Seventh Seat of the First Division without being ordered to do so.

Uehara Shiroha merely shrugged. "Alright."

He had almost forgotten about that incident. Back then, Iwama Nao and his two stalker had been frozen solid by him, and that was the end of it. From the beginning, Uehara Shiroha had never taken that insignificant fool seriously.

Casually, he opened the letter and skimmed through its contents. As expected, the head of the Iwama family began with a formal apology for the actions of his clan member. He claimed that Iwama Nao had acted entirely on his own, and that neither the Iwama family nor the Tsunayashiro family had anything to do with it.

It was all too familiar. A well-worn script. When something went wrong, it was never the fault of the higher-ups—always a mere 'temporary worker' taking the fall. No matter the world, the formula remained the same.

Not that Uehara Shiroha cared. Whether the Tsunayashiro family was truly involved or not, it didn't matter to him. As long as the ones causing trouble were gone, the problem ceased to exist. He wasn't a judge, nor did he have any interest in uncovering the so-called 'truth.' All that mattered was ensuring no one could threaten him.

That was why, in the past, he had decisively eliminated a member of the Tsunayashiro family's main branch to divert their attention elsewhere.

As for the so-called "compensation" offered by the Iwama family? It was pitiful—nothing more than leftovers. Not even enough to satisfy a beggar.

Uehara Shiroha's expenses were far from modest. The red-light district alone was a bottomless pit for money, and he never held back when it came to indulging himself. Fine food, expensive drinks, entertainment—he enjoyed all of it, and he spent money like water.

But money? That was never an issue. The nobles had plenty, and if he ever ran out, he could always take more.

Noticing the disdain in Uehara Shiroha's expression, Kyoraku Shunsui let out an amused chuckle and poured another round of sake, offering a cup to his young subordinate. He had expected this reaction.

These noble families truly thought they could bribe Uehara Shiroha with petty offerings. How naive.

Without hesitation, Uehara Shiroha picked up his cup, clinked it lightly against Shunsui's, and downed the drink in one go. Then, setting the cup down, he casually remarked, "I think Seireitei should maintain some form of backup presence in Hueco Mundo."

Kyoraku Shunsui, already guessing where this was going, nodded with interest. "You're planning to invest more effort into the Hueco Mundo base?"

"Exactly."

Shunsui mulled over it for a moment. "No problem. If there's anything I can do to help, just say the word."

He wasn't opposed to the idea at all. If anything, he found it to be quite reasonable. Seireitei had always been too lax when it came to Hueco Mundo. A more cautious approach would have prevented disasters before they happened. But unfortunately, the people in power were blind, arrogant, and corrupt. Even when they did notice a problem, they rarely cared enough to act.

With just a few words exchanged, the two had already solidified their plans.

And so, they drank. They talked. And before long, another round of revelry began.

The next day, after completing his daily assignments and earning two attribute points, Uehara Shiroha was in a rather good mood.

It was then that he formally submitted a proposal to Seireitei: a talent training base in Hueco Mundo.

His idea was simple yet effective—newly graduated Shinigami should be taken to Hueco Mundo on excursions. The harsh environment and real combat experiences would push them to their limits, stimulating their growth and improving the overall strength of the Gotei 13's new recruits.

With that settled, Uehara Shiroha set out for Hueco Mundo alongside Ise Nanao to begin preparations.

Of course, "building a base" was a bit of an exaggeration. In reality, he was mainly focused on fortifying barriers and improving their concealment techniques. He didn't have the manpower or resources to launch a full-scale operation, nor was that his goal.

He never intended to "conquer" Hueco Mundo. That would be absurd.

A few days later, the verdict came in from Central 46.

Unsurprisingly, they rejected his proposal outright. Their official statement called it "fantastical"—a complete waste of time and resources.

But despite their harsh dismissal, something interesting happened.

They didn't immediately withdraw the existing personnel and supplies from the Hueco Mundo base.

Uehara Shiroha smirked. The outcome had been exactly as he'd hoped.

Approval or not, he had achieved his goal.

With Captain Yamamoto and Kyoraku Shunsui backing him, Uehara Shiroha could push his agenda forward without too much resistance. He could act as freely as he wanted.

More importantly, the base in Hueco Mundo provided him with an invaluable advantage.

From there, he could closely monitor the situation in Hueco Mundo—observe the Hollow activity, track any unusual movements, and most significantly, keep an eye on Aizen's Arrancar experiments.

A waning moon hung high in the sky, casting a pale glow over the desolate and dilapidated Hueco Mundo Palace. The so-called King of Hueco Mundo, Baraggan Louisenbairn, draped in his black robes and golden crown, exuded an air of authority. Yet, beneath his skeletal visage, his eyes narrowed with irritation as he turned to his gathered Adjuchas, his voice carrying an edge of impatience.

"Where is Valdez? Why has he not returned to report?"

One of his subordinates, a Menos Grande, immediately stepped forward and responded respectfully.

"Lord Valdez departed under your Majesty's command to eliminate the noisy Shinigami, but he has yet to return."

"Useless trash!" Baraggan spat, his irritation growing. His so-called subordinates were proving more and more incompetent. If this continued, he would need to strengthen his ranks.

Perhaps, not enough of them had died.

A shame, really. If Harribel had simply accepted her rightful place under him, his subordinates wouldn't be such disappointments.

As he was about to voice his dissatisfaction, three unfamiliar figures appeared within his palace, standing confidently before his throne.

… Shinigami.

All three were clad in black Shihakushō, their postures casual despite the overwhelming presence of Hollows surrounding them. Their expressions bore no trace of fear or concern, as though standing before a horde of predators was an everyday occurrence.

The gathered Adjuchas and Hollows fell into stunned silence.

How?

How had these three intruders infiltrated the royal palace of Hueco Mundo without any of them noticing?

The first to react was a humanoid Adjuchas, who stepped forward aggressively, voice filled with fury.

"Who are you? How dare you trespass into Las Noches?!"

Before he could utter another word, one of the intruders—a tall man wearing a blindfold—casually unsheathed his blade and slashed him down in an instant.

The Adjuchas barely had time to react before his body collapsed, lifeless.

The entire palace fell into an eerie silence.

For the first time, the Hollows hesitated. A single attack had been enough to instill fear into the crowd.

The man responsible—Tōsen Kaname, dark-skinned with long dreadlocks and stylish sunglasses—remained silent, as if he had merely swatted a fly.

Beside him, a tall and elegant man with slicked-back brown hair and glasses remained composed, his expression unreadable.

The third figure, a young silver-haired man, merely squinted his eyes and smiled playfully, as though this entire situation was a joke.

The tension in the air thickened.

Yet, Hollows were not known for their intelligence.

After a brief pause, the mindless horde let out guttural roars and surged forward, ready to tear the intruders apart.

But before they could act, Baraggan raised a hand, his voice carrying absolute authority.

"Stand down."

The Hollows halted immediately, though confusion flickered in their primal gazes.

Baraggan rose from his throne, grasping his massive double-edged axe, and looked down upon the three newcomers with undisguised contempt.

"Shinigami," he scoffed, his skeletal jaw tightening. "If you stand before me now, it means Valdez has failed. Worthless. All of them."

Despite his dismissive words, something about these three felt off.

They were unafraid.

Unconcerned.

Unbothered by the horde of Hollows, by the King of Hueco Mundo himself.

What was their purpose?

The man in glasses finally stepped forward, his voice gentle yet authoritative.

"Allow me to introduce myself."

He smiled, but his eyes held a depth that sent an unexplainable chill through the air.

"I am Aizen Sōsuke."

Silence.

"Tell me, Your Majesty… Are you truly satisfied with the current state of Hueco Mundo?"

Aizen's tone was calm, almost conversational, as if he were merely discussing the weather.

Baraggan narrowed his eyes. This man…

"You speak nonsense," he growled. "What is your true purpose here?"

Aizen did not answer immediately. Instead, he lifted his Zanpakutō, its edge gleaming under the pale moonlight. He pointed its tip toward the ground, and in a voice as soft as a whisper, he uttered a single command:

"Shatter, Kyōka Suigetsu."

An invisible ripple spread through the air, like a still pond suddenly disturbed.

The Hollows froze, confusion flickering across their grotesque faces.

They didn't even realize what had just happened.

Baraggan, however, remained still. His expression did not change.

But something felt off.

"You amuse me, Shinigami," he said dismissively. "I tire of your kind."

Lifting his colossal double-edged axe, he took a single step forward.

"The only one who controls Hueco Mundo is me. The only one who can bring about change… is its King."

In the blink of an eye, his axe swung down—

And sliced the three Shinigami into pieces.

Blood splattered across the palace floor.

The Hollows roared in triumph.

Baraggan smirked, reveling in his own strength.

"So this is the 'evolution' you spoke of?" he mocked, kicking a severed limb aside. "Pathetic."

But then—

"Really?"

A familiar voice echoed behind him.

Baraggan's smug expression froze.

Slowly, he turned around.

There, standing completely unharmed, were Aizen, Gin, and Tōsen—not a single scratch on them.

They regarded him with an almost pitying expression.

"Impossible," Baraggan growled. "I just…"

His fingers clenched the handle of his axe. He had killed them. He had felt his blade cut through their flesh!

And yet—

Aizen stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with quiet amusement.

"You're mistaken." He lifted a hand and, with a mere flick of his fingers, shattered the illusion.

The world around them morphed.

The grand palace shifted—no longer pristine, no longer filled with living subordinates.

Instead, what lay before Baraggan was a graveyard of corpses.

His once-loyal Hollows, who had stood at his side moments ago, were now nothing but shattered remains, their blood staining the cold palace floors.

The King of Hueco Mundo stood alone, surrounded by death.

"How dare you mock me, you damned Shinigami!"

The sight of Las Noches reduced to a hellscape sent a wave of shock through Baraggan Louisenbairn. But the initial disbelief quickly gave way to pure, unrestrained rage.

Seated upon his throne of bone, the King of Hueco Mundo radiated an overwhelming spiritual pressure, his presence distorting the air itself.

With a single motion of his skeletal hand, a dense black aura erupted from his fingertips, surging toward Aizen like a creeping plague.

Wherever the ominous energy passed, everything was reduced to nothing.

Sand, rock, the corpses of fallen Hollows—all decayed instantly, crumbling to dust and scattering like ashes in the wind.

The very essence of existence was wiped away under his power.

As if an invisible hand of death had reached out to erase all that it touched.

"Impressive," Ichimaru Gin murmured, his eyes narrowing slightly, a rare trace of seriousness flickering across his otherwise playful demeanor.

Standing beside Aizen, Tōsen Kaname tensed, his expression dark.

Aizen, however, remained calm.

"The power of aging…" He spoke as if he were evaluating a tool, rather than facing a lethal attack. "Fascinating. But ultimately—"

With a flick of his wrist, Kyōka Suigetsu moved ever so slightly.

In an instant, the entire scene shifted again.

Baraggan's decay-inducing aura suddenly missed its mark, falling harmlessly onto the empty ground. The impact left a smooth crater, as if reality itself had been carved away.

Baraggan's empty eye sockets trembled.

The scene before him, which had felt so real just moments ago, had once again proven to be an illusion.

What was real?

What was fake?

For the first time in centuries, Baraggan couldn't tell.

In his mounting desperation, he unleashed his power again, determined to flush out the deceitful Shinigami.

"Enough!"

Aizen's voice cut through the palace like a blade of absolute command.

The sky itself seemed to tremble as an immense golden spiritual pressure erupted from his body, piercing through the heavens.

The force was so immense that it shook the foundations of Hueco Mundo, distorting the very spiritual particles in the air.

For all his unrivaled power, the King of Hueco Mundo found himself utterly helpless before it.

The black aura of decay, so absolute in its destruction, now faltered before Aizen's sheer dominance.

It collapsed, dissipating into nothingness.

Baraggan's skeletal jaw nearly unhinged in shock.

"The only way to resist my decay is with overwhelming spiritual pressure…" His voice was hoarse, as if even speaking the thought was difficult.

But that was impossible.

He was Baraggan Louisenbairn.

The King who had ruled Hueco Mundo for countless eras.

No one could surpass him in raw power.

And yet, standing before him now—Aizen Sōsuke had done just that.

Before Baraggan could fully process his failure, two figures suddenly vanished from Aizen's side.

Ichimaru Gin and Tōsen Kaname reappeared in an instant, one on his left, the other on his right—their Zanpakutō pressed against his vitals.

Baraggan froze.

For the first time in his existence, he had been cornered.

Defeat weighed down on his massive frame. His pride, his confidence, his title—all of it crumbled like the dust of his fallen subordinates.

As the realization of his failure sank in, the King of Hueco Mundo lowered his head.

In that moment, the heart of a King was shattered.

Aizen's voice echoed through the ruined Las Noches, filled with neither mockery nor pity—only absolute certainty.

"Hueco Mundo belongs to us now. We'll proceed as planned… and remake it in our image."

His gaze swept over the decayed remains of Baraggan's palace, and he scoffed.

"This so-called 'King of Hueco Mundo'… what a joke."

While Aizen and his subordinates consolidated their control over Hueco Mundo, another figure had already begun staking his own claim.

In the depths of the Outer Circle, far from Aizen's immediate reach, Uehara Shiroha was carving out his own foothold.

The ores and natural resources of Hueco Mundo had great value, especially rare Hollow-based materials.

Among them, the most valuable "resource" was the Hollows themselves.

And soon enough, even Arrancars—including the future Espada—would become part of the "Hueco Mundo Expeditionary Force Headquarters Luxury Package."

To Uehara Shiroha, who had full control over the Hueco Mundo Crossing Gate, this was a monopoly business.

And he planned to exploit it to the fullest.

Deep within Hueco Mundo, near the Inner Circle, a one-sided battle was coming to an end.

Hueco Mundo was roughly divided into three main zones:

The Outer Circle – A barren wasteland with scattered Hollows.

The Underground Forest – A vast network beneath the sands, home to Menos Grande.

The Inner Circle – The domain closest to Las Noches, where the strongest Hollows resided.

Uehara Shiroha's base was stationed on the outskirts, a region that Las Noches paid little attention to.

However, he would occasionally slip into the Inner Circle for a bit of hunting.

Standing amidst the battlefield, Uehara Shiroha lifted his hand.

A surge of frigid energy erupted from his palm.

Several Adjuchas-class Hollows were instantly encased in thick ice, frozen solid.

His Zanpakutō, was merely a cover.

In truth, this was the power of his Stand—White Album.

A wave of absolute cold swept across the battlefield, freezing everything in its path.

Yet, not everyone was caught off guard.

Amidst the icy wasteland, Kurotsuchi Mayuri—draped in his signature black-and-white mask—stood completely unfazed.

As the bitter cold surged toward him, he merely let out a disinterested scoff.

A sudden flare of nameless flames burst forth from his body, incinerating the frost before it could touch him.

Wrapped in fire, Mayuri's golden pupils glowed with intrigue as he studied Uehara Shiroha.

The temperature around them dropped even further.

Uehara Shiroha retracted Shunkyō, his voice calm.

"Captain Kurotsuchi Mayuri, we have delivered all the research materials you requested."

The deal had been made.

Now it was Mayuri's turn to uphold his end of the bargain.

To completely secure his control over the Hueco Mundo Base, Uehara Shiroha needed Mayuri's expertise.

And Mayuri…

Well, Mayuri had his own interests in mind.

"…Did you just try to include me in your attack range?"

Mayuri's golden eyes glinted with curiosity—and a hint of twisted excitement.

For the first time in a long while, the mad scientist had found a new specimen worth dissecting.

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