BLEACH: DRINKING MAKES ME STRONGER

"Well, it seems many of you can hardly wait any longer."

"Then I won't waste time with speeches. After receiving your Asauchi, we'll proceed to class sorting. Now, the Narrow Space Trial officially begins. You'll be transported to separate trial zones."

Aizen Sōsuke's gentle voice echoed clearly through the gathering, his smile as refined as always.

"I hope each of you can resonate with the Zanpakutō most aligned with your soul. This marks the first step to becoming a Shinigami—and to achieving true honor. For some of you, this moment will shape your future entirely."

His words carried a hypnotic allure, like a soft incantation, resonating throughout the corridor leading to the Narrow Space chambers.

Many of the gathered students flushed with anticipation. Had the moment allowed, they might have raised fists and shouted their ambitions aloud.

Some whispered excitedly about what kind of Zanpakutō they hoped to receive—fire, ice, shadow, or storm.

Aizen's gaze swept over them with practiced warmth—until it landed on Kuroba.

Hidden near a support column, Kuroba nonchalantly picked his nose, looking thoroughly bored.

The corner of Aizen's smile twitched briefly. The intensity of his inspirational speech evaporated in an instant, as if struck by a cold gust of wind.

Fortunately, one of the stationed proctors—an older Shinigami dressed in grey—stepped forward to take control.

This proctor had seen countless hopefuls. Their excitement, their arrogance—it was all familiar. He wasn't moved.

He knew that acquiring an Asauchi in the Narrow Space was no simple matter, and gaining its recognition—much less forging it into a powerful Zanpakutō—was even rarer.

In Soul Society's long history, only a few Zanpakutō had been considered exceptional from the start. Ryūjin Jakka, the infernal blade of Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto, was one. Hyōrinmaru, awakened by Hitsugaya Tōshirō, another.

But most Zanpakutō weren't born legendary—they became so through their wielders.

There is no weakest Zanpakutō, only the weakest Shinigami.

Kuroba believed that too. With the right growth and mastery, any Zanpakutō could transcend its origin.

The proctor began his incantation—his fingers weaving complex Kidō seals in the air.

"Steel skies and misted ground, twin dragons of fire and water—

Black forest wild, and oceans in storm!

Come forth, fall and rise—entwine and bar the way!

I open the gate to the origin of swords!"

With a resounding boom, the massive black stone gate creaked open, letting forth a frigid wind that swept across the assembly.

Even the most enthusiastic candidates shivered under the oppressive spiritual atmosphere.

Beyond the gate, a corridor gradually lit with pale-blue lanterns, stretching deep into darkness. At its end, embedded into the ice-like stone floor, were rows of unshaped Asauchi—the blank slates of future Zanpakutō.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

Even Kuroba's expression changed—slightly.

He had confidence in his mysterious system, of course. He believed any reward it granted would be top-tier.

Still, he couldn't deny a strange anticipation. The Asauchi he would receive today could influence everything going forward.

"If I could choose," Kuroba thought, "I'd want something completely busted. A single-swing kill type. Big move. Big boom."

The proctor stepped back as the last of the seals faded.

"The barrier is ready. You'll enter in groups. Each group will be teleported to a distinct sector within the Narrow Space—to prevent infighting and interference."

But no one moved.

The silence stretched.

The crowd that had moments ago been full of dreams and ambition now hesitated at the edge of the unknown.

"What's wrong? No one brave enough to go first?" the old Shinigami said, tone sharpened. "Weren't you all shouting just now about obtaining powerful Zanpakutō?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Let me remind you: your time has already begun. You have 60 minutes. If you fail to form a connection with an Asauchi by then, you fail this trial."

That snapped many of them to attention. Sixty minutes—neither short nor long. Some formed bonds immediately. Others struggled for the full hour. Few knew how much time they'd need.

The Narrow Space Trial wasn't just about power. It was about resonance—and will.

"The old man's right." Kuroba stepped forward with a smirk. "You want a future? Fight for it."

He strode toward the entrance calmly, ignoring the stares.

To Kuroba, those Asauchi weren't relics of tradition—they were premium inventory.

He glanced at his internal system readout. The Zanpakutō Brewing Progress bar had just hit 25%.

The only viable way for Kuroba to accelerate the brewing progress of the Zanpakutō wine was through repeated interaction with the Asauchi during the Narrow Space trial.

At the same time, he needed to test whether his hypothesis about the Zanpakutō wine and its connection to soul resonance was actually feasible.

"Alright then," the elder Shinigami overseeing the entrance trial said, his gaze fixed on Kuroba. "I've heard you're that rare genius who lit up all ten bamboo markers in the spiritual pressure assessment—something not seen in a millennium. Don't disappoint us."

The old man's voice held no malice. Like many defenders stationed at these gates, what mattered most to him was results. A student who could take the lead would always earn his respect.

"Haha, since Kuroba-kun wants to be the trailblazer, then as a member of the former subordinate house of the Shiba clan, I should naturally follow suit."

Boa Akagao stepped forward from the crowd, her smile poised and calculated.

Immediately behind her, a swarm of followers—young noble heirs and sycophants enchanted by her presence—moved like a tidal wave. Thirty to forty people joined her without hesitation.

Their coordinated movement drew uneasy glances from the onlookers. Something about this lineup smelled off—like a trap dressed up as support.

These so-called "admirers" of Akagao were clearly not here to cheer for Kuroba. Their eyes brimmed with hostility and veiled resentment.

"Brother Kuroba," said a familiar voice with a teasing grin, "seems like your fangirls brought their whole army. Want me to send over reinforcements for the next wave?"

It was Kyōraku Shunsui, lazily adjusting his straw hat, but his eyes remained sharp.

Though he wore his usual carefree expression, Kyōraku was here with serious intent. He had personally come to verify the rumors—that Kuroba might be a dual-soul body, a phenomenon exceedingly rare even in Soul Society.

More importantly, he wanted to see what kind of Zanpakutō this arrogant, self-styled prodigy would receive.

Before even entering Shinō Academy, Kuroba had already achieved ten-bamboo spiritual pressure—unheard of for someone without formal training—and showed signs of being highly proficient in Hakuda.

If he performed well in the Narrow Space assessment and formed a bond with an exceptional Asauchi, his path would be nearly assured.

In fact, if Kuroba could prove himself in this trial—and show even a little humility—Kyōraku Shunsui wouldn't hesitate to recommend him for a seat in the Thirteenth Court Guard Squad.

After all, Kuroba's rebellious spark reminded Kyōraku of a younger version of himself.

And it was precisely because of this potential that Kyōraku didn't want to see Kuroba die before his story even began.

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