Shinigami: Medicine Can't Save The Soul Reaper Society

Setting aside the slight guilt from deceiving Yachiru to increase her affection, Makoto's agreement undeniably left Yachiru brimming with excitement.

Soon, under Yachiru's enthusiastic command, nearly all members of the Eleventh Division gathered at the largest training ground, except for a small group led by Yumichika Ayasegawa, who were away on a mission.

Zaraki, upon confirming the situation, couldn't help but reveal an exhilarated expression.

A massacre…

Yes!

Though these subordinates were still too weak, the idea of being able to freely slash and be slashed in return stirred a bit of satisfaction within him.

This was also one of the reasons why Zaraki had persistently tried to recruit Makoto into the Eleventh Division in the past.

Zaraki grinned wildly from afar, baring his sharp teeth in a terrifying display, and shouted towards Makoto, who stood at the edge of the field.

"Kid, you better heal them properly! If they all end up dead, it'll be a bit troublesome for me."

"Of course, you can rest assured, Captain Zaraki. As long as they're not dead on the spot, I can keep them alive. However, I'll kindly remind you to settle the healing fees with the Fourth Division afterward."

Makoto adjusted his glasses, his gentle tone laced with unwavering confidence.

While Ikkaku had rapidly risen through the ranks within two years of joining the Gotei 13, securing his position as the 3rd Seat of the Eleventh Division, Makoto had not been standing still either.

Even without reaching his full potential in combat, he had earned Unohana's recognition as a formidable opponent who could challenge even ordinary captain-level Shinigami.

Though Makoto's proficiency in kido, hakuda, and zanjutsu remained limited due to time constraints, his expertise in kaido (healing arts) and medical techniques had advanced to a level comparable to Yamada Seinosuke.

In terms of understanding the structure, composition, and quality of spiritual bodies, Makoto had arguably surpassed Unohana herself.

Thanks to his deepening knowledge of spiritual bodies, Makoto's mastery over the healing power of his Zanpakuto, Shinro Bansho, had reached a point where his healing speed rivaled the high-speed regeneration of Hollows.

In other words, unless it was a captain-level Shinigami or someone instantly killed, as long as they had a breath left, Makoto could "revive" them!

"As long as I'm standing here, no life within my sight will be allowed to perish in pain…"

As Makoto's words fell, a lush carpet of grass burst forth, spreading across the entire training ground, emanating a vibrant energy.

Witnessing this dazzling scene, Yachiru, who may not have fully understood what "dashing" meant, couldn't help but cheer in excitement, "Makoto-nii! You're amazing!!!"

Meanwhile, Zaraki, reassured by Makoto's promise, scanned the gathered Eleventh Division members. His eyes gleamed with a growing desire to fight.

Grabbing the collar of his shihakusho, Zaraki yanked it down, revealing his rock-hard muscles, and bellowed wildly at the crowd of Shinigami before him.

"Come on, fight! Let's play something fun! Attack me all at once, or take turns cutting each other down—doesn't matter! Let's go!!!"

As Zaraki's emotions surged, his violent spiritual pressure erupted uncontrollably, radiating outward from him in a shockwave.

Even the battle-hardened Eleventh Division members, who were used to Zaraki's oppressive spiritual pressure, found themselves momentarily struggling to breathe.

However, every Shinigami who voluntarily joined the Eleventh Division was a battle maniac…

To grow stronger through battle, to keep fighting once they grew stronger, and to fight until death—that was the very essence of the Eleventh Division!

Their captain's wild challenge ignited a fire in their hearts.

Dying didn't matter in the slightest…

In fact, for many, being slain by someone as powerful as Captain Zaraki would be the ultimate honor!

Without hesitation, the Eleventh Division Shinigami, led by Ikkaku, charged at Zaraki with their swords raised.

In the next instant, blood sprayed across the field, severed limbs scattering about in a gruesome display.

Having entered full-on combat mode, Zaraki may have held back somewhat, but he showed no mercy in his strikes, slashing down every opponent with unrelenting ferocity to savor the thrill of mutual slaughter.

It was destined to be a one-sided massacre.

Though Zaraki faced nearly the entire Eleventh Division, until his spiritual pressure began to wane significantly, the sheer gap in power ensured that no one could breach his defenses.

Even when four or five Shinigami simultaneously attempted to block his strikes, they were invariably sent flying by the overwhelming force of his attacks.

Yet, despite the hopeless odds, none of the Eleventh Division members showed any signs of retreat. Instead, they continued to charge forward, one after another, willing to risk their lives for the exhilaration of being struck by Zaraki's blade.

Ikkaku, who led the initial charge, was the first to be disemboweled by a single swing of Zaraki's sword, forcing him to temporarily withdraw from the fight.

The scene was a chaotic blend of bloodlust, madness, and sheer determination.

Amid this overwhelmingly one-sided battle, continuous bursts of green light flickered across the field, maintaining the lives of the injured and rapidly healing their wounds.

"Control over spiritual particles!"

To ensure a sufficient supply of spiritual particles for healing, Makoto expanded his absorption range, continuously drawing in spiritial particles from the surrounding environment to fuel his frantic efforts.

As the speed at which Zaraki inflicted injuries increased, Makoto found himself unable to keep up with his eyes alone. Closing them briefly, he relied entirely on the sensory connection with the grass spread across the ground to detect and mend wounds.

Unknowingly, Makoto's entire body became enveloped in a radiant green glow, his feet slightly levitating off the ground.

The countless strands of grass extending from his feet seemed to possess a life of their own, tirelessly healing the wounded Shinigami across the training ground.

As Makoto's healing efficiency continued to soar, Ikkaku, fully healed, rejoined the fray for a second round. Zaraki, invigorated by the relentless wave of challengers, intensified his assault, further quickening the pace of the carnage.

For a moment, it seemed as if an unspoken competition had emerged between Zaraki and Makoto—whose efficiency was higher: Zaraki's slaughter or Makoto's healing?

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