Northwest of the 2nd Division barracks, within the moat, lay a vast underground facility spanning the equivalent of thirty houses.
From the outside, it appeared to be nothing more than an imposing mountain of closely connected rock formations. But beneath the surface, it was, in fact, a massive subterranean prison.
Detention Unit soldiers clad in night gear patrolled the area, their presence adding to the prison's oppressive atmosphere.
To the Central 46, the criminals imprisoned here were no different from maggots clinging to life. And so, this place had come to be known as—
The Nest of Maggots.
...
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Crack! Crack! Crack!
The echoes of clubs striking flesh and fists colliding reverberated through the dungeon as hundreds of figures clashed in a frenzy within the main hall.
The more cowardly inmates shrieked in terror, scrambling away, clutching their heads as they cowered in the corners.
Boulders shattered under the force of Reiatsu-infused blows, sending debris scattering through the air.
Waves of condensed spiritual pressure, glowing a deep azure, surged toward the ceiling, hammering against the reinforced prison walls.
"Damn Detention Unit! Why the hell are we locked up in here?! Let us out!"
"Die!!"
A towering, muscular man in tattered clothing lunged forward, his roar filled with rage.
His face was smeared with the blood of other inmates, his once-white robes now soaked in red. Bloodshot eyes locked onto a young man standing not far away—a black-haired figure with a faint smile, clad in a Shihakushō.
At his side stood a silver-haired boy.
A pretty-faced young man, delicate in appearance, yet bold enough to set foot in a place like this.
The towering prisoner grinned maniacally, a cruel expression twisting his features—one that even the other inmates feared.
He was determined to teach this "pretty boy" just how dangerous it was to stand out in a place like this.
...
Deeper within the prison, in a solitary cell, a man with strange black-and-white face paint sat on a white stone bed, his expression one of irritation.
"Another riot… What an insufferable bunch."
Unlike the other inmates, who were allowed free movement within the prison, this man was confined alone, his feet bound by heavy shackles—a testament to the fact that he was far more dangerous than the rest.
Clink.
The sound of gravel shifting underfoot was accompanied by the light tap of approaching footsteps.
Under the dim lighting, two figures—one tall, one small—descended the narrow staircase.
"Taking care of all those inmates outside on your own... Looks like we've got a real big shot here."
A hoarse voice drifted from the cell, its peculiar cadence enough to send chills down one's spine.
"What brings someone of your stature to a place like this...?"
"I came to see you, of course. I have business."
Masatsuki Aozaki casually flicked the blood from his hand, stepping up to the cell door with a look of satisfaction.
"Mayuri Kurotsuchi."
...
A troublesome one, huh?
Mayuri Kurotsuchi's frown deepened as he watched Masatsuki approach, the distant screams of inmates still ringing through the corridors.
The last person to irritate him this much had been that damn Detention Unit officer—Kisuke Urahara.
"Ichimaru, wait outside for now."
With a wave of Masatsuki's hand, the cell door—meant to restrict Mayuri's freedom—swung open on its own.
Mayuri's eyes flickered with mild surprise as Masatsuki strode inside and, without hesitation, plopped himself down on the bed.
"Wow... You're really not polite to someone you just met."
Masatsuki Aozaki smirked coldly. "You used honorifics, but you're still being rude."
"Really?"
Masatsuki scratched his head, then extended his hand. "I forgot to introduce myself. I'm the new 3rd Seat of the 2nd Division and Captain of the Detention Unit—Masatsuki Aozaki."
"Never heard of you."
"Probably because I just graduated from the Shin'ō Academy this year and only joined the Detention Unit yesterday."
"This year's graduate..."
Mayuri Kurotsuchi observed Masatsuki's cheerful demeanor and the hand he had extended. After a brief pause, he reached out, shook it, and said, "Getting promoted straight to 3rd Seat upon graduation? I suppose congratulations are in order."
"So, what exactly brings you here?"
Masatsuki smiled. "Mayuri Kurotsuchi, don't you find it boring to be stuck in here?"
Mayuri's heart skipped a beat at those words. But on the surface, he remained unfazed.
"What do you mean by that? Or maybe you just have no idea what this place is."
"The Shihōin Clan making you Head of the Detention Unit was a foolish decision. You're proving to be quite the incompetent leader."
"No, no, no," Masatsuki scoffed. "You're still not getting it."
He let out a slow breath.
"I'm not asking if you're happy here."
"Sure, your conditions here are better than up top—you have your own room, and you don't have to be around those filthy, violent brutes."
"But at the end of the day, this room is still a prison, one that chains you down."
"And most importantly..."
"To be honest, I admire your abilities."
"I probably understand you more than you think. I also know the Nest of Maggots better than you assume. There's nothing in this place for you."
"And this is not where you belong."
Mayuri's brows furrowed sharply.
"...Looks like you're finally starting to understand me."
Masatsuki raised his hand.
With a metallic clank, the shackles on Mayuri's legs fell open. At the same time, Gin Ichimaru, who had been waiting by the staircase, glanced back, then, seeing no immediate danger, turned his head away.
Mayuri, now "free," remained seated, his gaze lingering on Masatsuki's bloodstained hands.
This so-called "dangerous individual" made no move to attack. Instead, he sat motionless, as if in deep meditation.
He knew well enough that he had been classified as a threat not because of sheer strength, but because of his intellect and ideas.
And this man before him—someone who had fought his way inside with his bare hands—was not someone he could possibly defeat.
"I have a friend named Kisuke Urahara. He's the 3rd Seat of the 12th Division—you might know him. He used to be in the Detention Unit."
Masatsuki spoke casually as he got up and began pacing the cramped cell.
"He has a vision. He wants to establish an organization dedicated to scientific research and development. And he believes you have the talent for it. So, how about it? Want to join us?"
Mayuri let out a short, mocking laugh. "What a ridiculous proposal. You two, both just 3rd Seats, want to build an organization like that? And you think you can just waltz in here and take me out of this hellhole? Don't make me laugh."
"It's not just us. The head of the Shihōin Clan is backing us as well."
Masatsuki sighed, then extended his hand once more.
"And more than that... You know what, let me introduce myself properly."
"My name is Masatsuki Aozaki. I'm twenty-one years old. And my master is Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto."
The moment those words left his mouth, Mayuri fell into a prolonged silence.
For the first time, his expression changed dramatically, twisting into something unreadable.
Masatsuki, however, remained unhurried.
He simply leaned against the wall, absently counting the bars of the cell.
He understood this man well.
Mayuri Kurotsuchi was a textbook "mad scientist."
Being confined in a place where he could do nothing? That was a fate worse than death.
And unlike Kisuke Urahara, Mayuri had no reason to let petty rivalry get in the way of opportunity.
Masatsuki was confident that he would make the right choice.
...
Half a minute passed.
Mayuri finally looked up, a strange grin creeping across his face as he rasped,
"Why me...? Everything you just said... That was all Kisuke Urahara's idea, wasn't it?"
Masatsuki met his gaze.
"I'm asking you—what do you want?"
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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