"Oh, Ito Makoto, you're so cruel. You just let that Adjuchas escape!"
"In order to capture that powerful Adjuchas, I lost many subordinates. I had planned to use him as a scapegoat to eliminate the nobles!"
Kisumi gazed in the direction where Wonderweisse and Fleur had vanished, her tone filled with regret.
"Oh? So the head of the Kisumi family finally admits it?" Ito Makoto said with a smirk. "You deliberately imprisoned that Adjuchas, then leaked his presence to lure his kin here, creating chaos so you could slaughter the nobles."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Kisumi replied coolly.
"Really? The hunting conference was suddenly interrupted by an unknown hollows invasion, and all the nobles in attendance were wiped out. Meanwhile, Kisumi , the esteemed head of the Kisumi family, happened to join forces with the Fourth Seat of the 11th Division—me, Ito Makoto—to eliminate the invading hollow. Now tell me, will you mourn those nobles, or was this your plan all along?"
Kisumi chuckled darkly. "Hahaha… what does Ito Makoto think of this proposal?"
As she spoke, the eerie silver-white Tapir Sword in her hand pulsed unnaturally. In an instant, liquid mercury surged from the ground, twisting into countless tentacles that shot toward Ito Makoto.
However, just as a smirk crept onto Kisumi's lips, convinced of her victory, she realized something was wrong—the Makoto she had impaled was nothing more than an afterimage.
Before she could react, the real Makoto appeared behind her, blade descending in a lethal arc.
A powerful shockwave rippled through her body, paralyzing her momentarily. At the same time, the mercury surrounding her vibrated, its surface rippling like disturbed water.
"These mercury defenses… they actually absorbed most of my shock force?" Makoto thought, surprised. It was the first time he had encountered such resistance.
Furthermore, Kisumi's spiritual pressure was no weaker than his own, even though he had borrowed 30% of his original body's power. In fact, her pressure might have even surpassed his.
This meant his oscillation technique had limited effect.
On top of that, he had to continuously maintain the Four-Sided Barrier—a massive spiritual boundary stretching for kilometers to conceal the battle. The strain was significant, making a prolonged fight dangerous. He had to end this quickly.
Fortunately, the suppression and amplification effects of the barrier still held. Kisumi's strength, speed, and spiritual pressure were reduced by 30%, while Makoto's were slightly enhanced. Even with her Captain-level power, she was still being pushed back.
Just as his blade was about to sever her head, her entire body was suddenly encased in mercury.
Makoto immediately leaped backward. From his observations, anything that came within a foot of the mercury was affected, as if frozen in time.
"Hadō No. 54: Haien!"
Makoto pointed a finger, releasing a fiery disc that streaked toward Kisumi.
Once again, the mercury surged, forming a protective shield that completely neutralized his attack.
"I never expected my matsyuao Sword to grow so powerful after consuming the true blood of so many nobles," Kisumi mused, her voice drifting from behind the shield. "And yet, I still can't defeat you."
She let out a soft chuckle.
"Ito Makoto, you're strong. How exhilarating."
Makoto narrowed his eyes. "Doesn't the matsyuao Sword consume its wielder's spiritual pressure? Why go through the trouble of slaughtering nobles?"
As they exchanged blows, their conversation took on the tone of two old acquaintances reminiscing over a long-standing feud.
Kisumi smirked. "I'm impressed, Makoto. You seem well-versed in my Kisumi family secrets. But my matsyuao Sword is unique. While it does devour the host's spiritual pressure, it has a particular taste for noble blood."
Her voice darkened.
"And since I'd rather not be devoured myself, I had to feed it others instead."
As she spoke, the mercury in the sky twisted into writhing tentacles, lunging toward Makoto.
"Three Forms of Annihilation—Mustard Net!"
A massive dark net materialized out of thin air, restraining the endless tide of mercury. Seizing the opportunity, Ito Makoto raised his Blade high and brought it down toward Kisumi in a decisive strike.
Just as he was about to land the finishing blow, a snow-white python shot out from Kisumi's left sleeve like a flash of lightning, sinking its fangs deep into his right shoulder.
A bone-chilling cold instantly spread through his body.
But Makoto Ito had no intention of letting this woman escape. Gritting his teeth, he ignored the frost seeping into his veins and slashed down with all his strength.
A crimson flower of blood bloomed across Kisumi's shoulder.
Just as he was about to press forward and finish her off, the mercury, now freed from the Mustard Net, surged back to her defense.
Makoto Ito had no choice but to retreat.
To his astonishment, the liquid mercury wriggled toward Kisumi's wounded shoulder, instantly mending the deep gash he had inflicted. Though the fabric of her uniform remained torn, revealing her pale skin, the wound itself vanished without a trace.
The white python, having completed its attack, slithered back toward her hand and morphed into the form of a sealed Zanpakutō.
Kisumi smirked. "Mr. Makoto, don't forget—I am also a Shinigami."
She slowly lifted her blade. "This is my Zanpakutō—Han Chiwen."
"How does it feel?"
Makoto Ito glanced at his shoulder, where two deep, sinister fang marks stood out against his skin. The cold sensation continued to creep through his body like poison, numbing his limbs.
"The Zanpakutō truly is the embodiment of a Shinigami's soul," he muttered. "Yours suits you well, Kisumi."
Unexpectedly, rather than taking offense, Kisumi giggled, momentarily pausing her assault.
"Mr. Makoto, I'll take that as a compliment."
Then, with a sigh, she added, "This battle is too drawn out. If we continue, we'll end up attracting captain-level opponents. Why don't we call it a tie?"
Without waiting for a reply, she sheathed her Zanpakutō and let the mercury around her recede, walking directly toward Makoto Ito.
He narrowed his eyes. His blade was still pressed against her throat, yet she didn't even flinch.
Instead, she allowed the razor-sharp edge to graze her slender neck, a thin line of blood tracing down her skin, dripping onto the back of Makoto Ito's hand.
"Relax," she murmured. "I'm helping you detoxify."
Ignoring the fresh wound on her own neck, she stepped even closer.
Then, to Makoto Ito's complete surprise, she rose onto her toes and pressed a soft kiss against his injured shoulder—right where Han Chiwen had bitten him.
Makoto Ito's expression twisted in shock. "What the hell are you doing, you crazy woman?"
Kisumi pulled back slightly, smirking. "If you're wounded by Han Chiwen, you'll carry a cold poison. While someone like you, with captain-level spiritual pressure, could eventually purge it on your own, it would take far too long. My saliva, however, is the only antidote."
The moment she finished speaking, Makoto Ito felt the unbearable cold dissipate from his body.
His eyes darkened. In an instant, he put distance between them, wanting nothing to do with this femme fatale.
"Crazy," he muttered under his breath.
Meanwhile, Kisumi's mercury slithered out from her sleeves, closing the wound on her neck with eerie efficiency. The gash sealed shut, leaving only the tear in her uniform as evidence of the injury.
She turned her gaze to him, a playful glint in her eyes.
"Mr. Makoto, tell me—how did you learn the secret of the matsyuao Sword?"
Her voice was sultry, her stare intense, but Makoto Ito remained unfazed.
He simply smirked and replied coldly—
"You guess."