I said you are all war criminals

These powers did not truly belong to her, but to the souls of those who had passed away. She was merely a temporary custodian, a vessel. When the Three Realms Collision ended, she must return these powers so that the Shinigami and the Quincy could be reborn.

Thinking of this, Goto Ichiri couldn't help feeling a little helpless.

She had actually foreseen this future a long time ago.

Even... she has a way to avoid this future.

Nine years ago, she had told the Spirit King that it would only take fifteen years for humanity to escape Earth. She hadn't lied. In just six more years, humanity could migrate to Mars... By then, even the collapse of Earth's three realms wouldn't affect the humans on Mars.

Didn’t the Spiritual King say the same thing at that time?

"It's too late."

...Didn't you kill Nana Ohba because you were too late, chewed up her bones and flesh and swallowed them, awakening the essence of your soul in advance?

Isn't it because you were too late that you rejected Ichichi Hongxia, who could neither interfere nor persuade, and only brought around those who could be deceived by your disguise as a kind person?

Isn't it because you're too late that you keep bringing Hollows into the human world to bridge the gap between the Quincies and the Shinigami?

You've done so many bad things.

Why are you unwilling to treat those ordinary people as if they were the Knights and the God of Death and manipulate them at will?

"No... No. I shouldn't keep thinking like this."

The power surged like a tide, and Goto Ichiri realized that his consciousness was being washed away by the memories carried in his spiritual power.

In order to stay awake, Yili began to recall the past.

In the basement, the air was stuffy and damp, and the smell of mold permeated the cramped space. The dim incandescent lamp emitted a buzzing sound, illuminating the figures of four girls. They fiddled clumsily with the instruments in their hands, playing stumblingly, and the discordant melody echoed in the small space, as harsh as noise. Goto Ichiri held the guitar stiffly, his fingertips dancing on the strings awkwardly, and each note was accompanied by a hint of hesitation and uncertainty. Liang sat behind the drums, struggling to swing the drumsticks, and the drum beats were always half a beat behind, out of tune with the other instruments. Hongxia's bass made a harsh friction sound, as rough as sawing wood, without any aesthetic appeal. Kita Yuyo curled up in the corner, her face pale, her breath weak, as if she would faint at any time. And she herself was not much better.

then……

...No, that's not right.

This is not Goto Ichiri's memory.

Ichiri held her face in her hands. Her brain was already using hundreds of thousands of different memories, and finding the memory of "Goto Ichiri" among them was extremely difficult. Her self was being washed away by the vast amount of memories, making Ichiri unable to understand what her past was like.

Ichiri certainly remembers that he was a guitarist.

But what kind of guitarist is she?

Goto Ichiri gritted her teeth, her mind struggling in a vortex of memories. These memories weren't simple images, but fragments woven with intense emotion, slicing at her soul like sharp blades. She felt nauseous, as if she'd swallowed a pile of rotten offal.

"No... If this goes on, I'll burst..."

She moaned softly, feeling her consciousness being stretched infinitely, becoming thin and fragile.

A thought flashed through her mind like lightning: since I couldn't resist, I should take the initiative to guide it. She began to try to sort out these chaotic fragments of memory, like sorting out a disorganized library.

"Kita Yuyo..."

She silently repeated the name, trying to pull out the memories of Kita Ikuyo. Scenes emerged: Kita trembling with nervousness on stage, Kita practicing over and over in the practice room, Kita carefully handing her a piece of dessert... These memories were filled with timidity and anxiety, but also with a hint of warmth and sweetness.

"cold……"

Next came Liang's memories. The dim lights of the bar, Liang expertly mixing cocktails, Liang calmly handling emergencies, Liang expressionlessly complaining about other members... These memories were filled with calmness and decisiveness, yet tinged with a hint of cynicism.

"Hongxia..."

Finally, there are the memories of Hong Xia, Hong Xia warmly greeting guests, Hong Xia happily planning the future of the band, Hong Xia gently comforting her when she was lost... These memories are full of vitality and optimism, yet with a hint of naiveté and innocence.

That's right...

These should be her memories.

Her, Goto Ichiri...

"Yili, I'm here."

Yili felt the warm body temperature.

Someone hugged her, gently from behind, as if hugging a child, as if hugging a lover, and hugged her all the way.

……who is it?

Yes……

"cold?"

Yamada Ryo, who hugged Ichiri from behind, smiled softly, "It's me."

A burning sensation radiated from her chest and arms, as if a red-hot iron were pressed against her. Liang gritted her teeth, her arms tightening even tighter. This temperature, more than lava, seemed to melt her whole being. Sweat instantly soaked her clothes, clinging to her skin, creating a suffocating heat.

But Liang didn't let go, and didn't even frown.

"Liang...it hurts..."

A weak voice came from Liang's arms, it was the sound of seeking relief.

"I'm about to become... no longer myself..."

"Ichiri, this is about saving the world."

Liang hugged Yili and pressed his heartbeat against that magma-like body temperature.

"One mile, it's going very quickly, very quickly."

Liang's voice was low and hoarse, like sandpaper scraping against metal. "The preparations for the sanctification are almost complete."

The burning sensation continued to spread, and Liang felt like metal thrown into a furnace, his consciousness gradually becoming blurred.

"Holy...don't?"

Yili uttered these two words with difficulty. Shards of memory shattered like broken glass, spinning rapidly in her mind and cutting her nerves. She tried hard to grasp something, but there was nothing to hold on to.

"Yes, holy."

Ryo repeated, his arms tightening around him as if to rub Ichiri into him, "You will save everyone, including yourself."

"save?"

Yili murmured in confusion, she felt her body getting lighter and lighter, as if it was about to float up.

Liang felt her blood boiling, the burning pain like countless tiny insects gnawing at her nerves, nearly devouring her. But she still gritted her teeth, refusing to let out a cry of pain.

She couldn't fall down, she had to support Yili, support this fragile girl who was about to save the world.

"Yili, it's okay, I'm here,"

Liang spoke intermittently, his voice as hoarse as an old bellows, "It will be fine soon..."

"It hurts...it's cold...it hurts so much..."

Yili whispered intermittently, his voice so weak that it was almost inaudible.

"I know I know,"

Liang hugged her tightly, enduring the great pain, "But you have to hold on, Yili, for everyone..."

As time went on, Yili's trembling gradually subsided, and his breathing became more even. As if being sorted by an invisible hand, the chaotic fragments of memory began to slowly piece together and merge.

Yili finally remembered everything.

And when she turned around and looked at her best friend who woke her up.

Liang has become a little blue light.

"…Thank you, Ryo."

Yili took the blue light and it floated into Yili's heart very smoothly.

She finally remembered her past.

The end of the band, Guitar Hero, the performances, the ticket sales… those treasures that were most important to her finally returned to Yili’s brain.

then.

There is only one thing left to do in Yili.

"...The souls of Soul Society have been collected."

Her voice was hoarse and trembled slightly, as if all her strength had been drained away by these words.

Yili slowly and laboriously stood up, her legs feeling heavy as if they were filled with lead, each step an effort. Shaking and stumbling, she walked towards the window, like a toddler. Each step was accompanied by a slight sway, as if she would fall at any moment. Yili could do anything now, but because of the overwhelming power, she couldn't do anything well.

She held onto the wall, her fingertips digging into the cold metal to support her shaky body.

Finally, she came to the window and gazed at the blue planet outside through the huge floor-to-ceiling window.

The earth is quietly suspended in the universe, emitting a soft light, like a huge blue crystal ball.

That blue, so pure, so peaceful.

Yili slowly raised his hands, trembling, and stretched them towards the window, as if to embrace the beautiful planet, but also as if to reject the planet.

Her fingers opened slightly, like blooming petals, as if welcoming some sacred ceremony.

"Holy."

--moment.

All the people on the earth died.

168

Chapter 168: Hong Xia’s Wrath.

On the cold metal operating table, Ijichi Hongxia's eyelids trembled slightly, then slowly opened. The pungent smell of disinfectant filled her nostrils, making her feel a little uncomfortable. The strong light shone on her face, causing her to squint in discomfort. Her vision gradually focused, and she took in the cold shadowless light above her head and the gleaming metallic medical instruments around her.

Her body gradually regained consciousness, and a strange feeling came from deep within her body, as if something had fundamentally changed. She tried to move her fingers, but found that her fingertips felt cold, like the sound of metal clashing, echoing in the silent operating room.

She looked down at her hands. Her originally soft skin was covered with a layer of cold metal, emitting a faint cold light.

The prosthetic surgery has been completed.

Hongxia felt the power surge within her, a surge of strength she had never felt before. She slowly sat up, a soft grinding sound coming from her metal joints. She clenched her fists, feeling the cool touch of the metal and the immense energy contained within. She knew that now, like a sharp Zanpakutō, she possessed the power to sever everything.

No, it should be said that she is now a Zanpakutō named "Ichichi Nijika," a sharp blade that she controls herself. The corners of her mouth curled up slightly, revealing a hint of confidence as she whispered, "I have become a Zanpakutō myself."

Now Hongxia is confident that she can kill Kita... No, this time, she should kill Ichiri.

Hong Xia did not lose herself because of this sense of omnipotence. She did not blow up the hiding place and jump into the sky... There should still be time. Hong Xia decided to go and see if there was any room for turning back.

She activated the magic circle again and returned to her room.

Her room wasn't damaged... there weren't even any signs of intrusion. Did Yili not investigate further? Or was it that he didn't have time to investigate further?

Hongxia thought about it for a moment and turned on the TV first.

On the TV, the news broadcast was playing. Although it was slightly out of sync with the clock on the wall, the news broadcast's timing was a minor issue compared to another issue.

The anchor of the news broadcast died at his workstation.

Hong Xia quickly switched TV channels, from the news channel to the entertainment channel, to the children's channel, and even the paid adult channel. Every channel showed the same picture - dead silence.

The news anchor sat stiffly at the podium, a professional smile still on his face, but that smile now seemed incredibly strange. On entertainment programs, the glamorously dressed guests maintained exaggerated expressions, as if time had frozen in time as they performed their antics. Even the hopping bunny on the children's channel was frozen as it performed its classic moves... Since the suit actor couldn't be seen, Hong Xia wondered if the person inside was dead. But, presumably, they were.

What is even more creepy is the adult channels, where those scantily clad male and female actors maintain various provocative poses, but their eyes are empty and lifeless, like the cold plastic mannequins in the window.

The world seemed to have been paused, with only the breath of death spreading, silently devouring everything.

Hong Xia threw away the remote control and walked to her window.

Vehicles were piled up in a chaotic mess, some even on fire. Thick black smoke climbed the sky like the tentacles of a giant beast, devouring the last ray of light. The streets were littered with fallen people...corpses. This was the end of the world.

"——Hakuno!"

Hongxia subconsciously broke through the window and flew into the air.

She did not use the Shinigami's instant step, nor the Quincy's Hirenkyaku, but flew out with the jet device installed on her back.

Within three seconds, she reached hypersonic speed—a violent sonic boom exploded through the air, creating a visible shockwave that swept across like an invisible hammer. The shockwave, carrying with it a violent turbulence, tore off billboards and traffic lights lining the street, hurling them into the air. Simultaneously, the glass windows of the surrounding buildings shattered under the immense pressure, sending shards of glass scattering like deadly hail. Bodies lying on the street were also swept up by the powerful turbulence, tumbling and dancing through the air like fallen leaves in a doomsday scene.

Hongxia remembered that Hakuno and Deng were probably in France right now, doing food reviews. They weren't the kind of food reviews that focused on expensive restaurants—nothing was so expensive these days that no one could afford it—but rather reviews of the specialties of the countryside and the city, the ones that caught people's attention.

At the current speed, Hong Xia would have to fly from Japan to France...

Less than ten minutes. Ten minutes could carry her across half the world, but not across life and death. Hong Xia gritted her teeth, the engine's roar raging in her ears, like the howl of a beast, the whisper of death. The communicator was filled with only a harsh cacophony, piercing her nerves like needles, each crackle of electricity seeming to announce the demise of hope.

Hakuno, Deng, where are you?

The wind from high above scraped across Hong Xia's face like a knife, but due to the mechanization, she felt no pain, only numbness. She pushed the car to its limit, the engine whining under the strain, but she didn't care; she just wanted to go faster and faster.

Burgundy, France.