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Shinigami: Medicine Can't Save The Soul Reaper Society

Senju Makoto, known to many as "Brother Makoto," is a specially invited doctor by the Women's Shinigami Association. He’s a master in gynecology, specializing in infertility and reproductive health. He holds the position of Vice-Captain in the Fourth Division and is the most desired man in the Eleventh Division. He ranks second in the list of the top ten most popular Shinigami in the Seireitei (the first place is vacant). He is also a distinguished guest in the four noble families and the wielder of the most powerful tree-based Zanpakuto—"Shinro Bansho." Medicine and the art of spiritual healing are my passions. I am willing to tirelessly save the lost and suffering souls, contributing my humble efforts to the prosperity of the Soul Society… Of course, if medical skills can no longer save the Soul Society, perhaps drawing my sword wouldn’t be such a bad option. Shinro Bansho—The Birth of the World Tree! -------------------------------------------------------- Disclaimer: I am not the author of this novel and hold no rights to the original work. This translation is created purely as a fan project for entertainment purposes only.I encourage readers to support the original author and their work. OG title: 死神:学医拯救不了尸魂界- book cover not mine Read 50+ chapters ahead as a patron ========================= Patreon: patreon.com/JustaPasserby

Lin11111 · Anime & Comics
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136 Chs

Chapter 59: Cero

The battlefield… was locked in a stalemate!

The Shinigami of the Tenth Division could barely inflict any damage on the Adjuchas, while a single casual strike from the beast left them gravely injured.

Ordinarily, this would have been a one-sided slaughter, an overwhelming display of power.

Yet, under Makoto's astonishing and all-encompassing healing abilities, as long as someone wasn't killed outright, even severed limbs or severe injuries could be swiftly stabilized and the combatant restored to basic fighting capacity in record time.

Soon, over seventy percent of the Tenth Division members were bloodied, yet not a single Shinigami retreated. On the contrary, they fought more fearlessly, throwing themselves into the fray to restrain the Adjuchas at all costs.

Makoto-sama!

As long as Makoto-sama is here, we have no reason to fear battle or injury!

Standing on the fragrant grass beneath their feet, every member of the Tenth Division persevered, miraculously holding the Adjuchas at bay.

Meanwhile, Makoto, who had been continuously providing large-scale healing, began to sense something amiss.

Normally, Adjuchas, as high-level entities among the Hollows, possessed intelligence and emotions approaching those of humans. They were new life forms, evolved from the chaotic hive-mind of the lesser Gillians.

However, the Adjuchas before them, though seemingly capable of independent thought and speech, behaved strangely.

Its combat logic was unusually simplistic. It remained ensnared by the binding spells of the Tenth Division, showing no intent to prioritize killing the critical seated officers or Makoto himself. Even more baffling, it displayed visible confusion at the sight of gravely injured Shinigami recovering and returning to the fight.

This… didn't align with the intelligence a true Adjuchas should possess.

---

Meanwhile, observing the battle from a distance, Kaname Tōsen spoke.

"Aizen-sama, the battle… appears to have reached a stalemate."

Aizen nodded, his gaze fixed on Makoto. A flicker of surprise crossed his usually composed expression.

In Aizen's calculations, the fight should have ended the moment the three seated officers fell.

"Samsara… I see. It's an even more impressive mass healing ability than the rumors suggested. It seems to directly absorb the surrounding reishi to repair injuries—a rather unique power…"

Aizen adjusted his glasses, his voice shifting in tone.

"But alas, such a fragile ability can't change the inevitable. Senju Makoto, the one who dared to threaten me, will end here."

He paused, then turned to Tōsen.

"Tōsen, it's time. End this farce."

"Yes, Aizen-sama," Tōsen responded, drawing his Zanpakutō with a low chant.

"Cry, Suzumushi!"

A faint humming sound resonated from the blade of Suzumushi, spreading rapidly toward the battlefield.

In an instant, wherever the subtle vibration reached, the Shinigami of the Tenth Division were immobilized, falling into a momentary yet critical lapse.

Lost in thought, the binding spell that Makoto had been maintaining against the Adjuchas faltered. For a moment, even his own mind seemed to go blank.

By the time he snapped out of it, the Adjuchas had closed the distance between them. A massive red orb of energy was forming at its mouth.

"A Cero? How did it have time to charge that?"

Makoto's expression shifted drastically as he instinctively moved to retreat.

But in the next instant, the red orb erupted with a deafening roar, sweeping toward him with devastating force.

Compared to the Adjuchas' raw physical might, the Cero—formed from concentrated spiritual pressure—was overwhelming. Everything in its path was obliterated. Even Makoto, positioned at the rear of the battlefield, was consumed in the attack.

"Boom!"

The explosion shook the ground, sending up a dense cloud of smoke. The once verdant field was scorched and leveled by a meter.

Makoto felt his body launched into the air, only to crash heavily into the earth. Warmth surged uncontrollably from his mouth and nose—it was blood.

Though his body refused to move, the countless battles he had endured in his mental training with Shinro Bansho's illusions made him keenly aware: his injuries were fatal.

This wasn't ordinary blood loss. His internal organs had been extensively ruptured, and even his heart had failed, leading to the torrential bleeding.

What was that sudden lapse in focus? Not just me—did every Shinigami experience it?

Cero… A beam of destruction formed by condensed spiritual pressure. So this is the true power of an Adjuchas?

Am I going to die? My thoughts… they're such a mess…

Paralyzed, Makoto couldn't see his own injuries clearly. But from afar, Aizen observed the entire scene with calm demeanor.

Half of Makoto's chest had been completely erased, leaving a gaping void. Blood poured relentlessly, staining the ground beneath him crimson within seconds. His spiritual pressure plummeted at an alarming rate.

He was done for.

Aizen slowly turned his gaze away, arriving at an inevitable conclusion. For most Shinigami—whether ordinary members or even seated officers—without a mastered Bankai, surviving a direct Cero from an Adjuchas was impossible.

This elicited no visible reaction from Aizen. No sorrow, no satisfaction. To him, eliminating a bothersome Shinigami was no different than crushing a bug crawling on a wall—just a minor inconvenience dealt with in passing.

Satisfied, Aizen turned his attention to the dissipating smoke over the battlefield. The surviving members of the Tenth Division were few, with most either dead or utterly incapacitated.

"It's over. Let's go," Aizen said with a gentle smile.

"The rest… Let that mindless Adjuchas savor the fragments of their souls steeped in emotion. Once the captains arrive, it will meet its end at their hands."

"Yes, Lord Aizen," Tōsen replied, sheathing his Zanpakutō, its release canceled. Beneath his dark cloak, his expression seemed conflicted.

"Are you troubled, Tōsen?" Aizen asked, his voice warm as he began to walk ahead.

Tōsen followed, nodding slightly as he answered solemnly, "Yes, Lord Aizen. But this is the price of true justice. Their lives will find continuity within that justice."

Aizen chuckled softly, as though he had anticipated this response. Just as he was about to speak further, he halted abruptly.

The spiritual pressure that had been steadily fading from Makoto… suddenly stopped declining.

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