An Arcanist in Karakura Town 17 (Patreon)

An Arcanist in Karakura Town
Chapter 17

-VB-

I spent a lot of time Tinkering with Orihime’s help, and talked with each other a lot.

“So you want to have a big family?” I asked her during our break. We sat side by side on the dinner table, eating a few dishes Orihime thought of. Of the five, one tasted … horrible, and the other four were good. Great, even. They just didn’t look great.

“Yup! I lived with my big brother only, and when he died, I felt really lonely. I don’t want that for my family,” she replied gutsily with a hint of sadness. “Mom and dad weren’t great either, but you are, Alan. Well, aside from your need to do that a lot,” she trailed off.

I smirked. “Oh, you don’t like our bed?”

“No, no, it’s grea-!” she froze.

I laughed and gave her a sideways hug. “Love you, too. Now, let’s get back to work. Those wannabe kings won’t stop just because we have.”

I stood up, though I thought I felt something pull at my shirt briefly, and Orihime stood up next to me as well.

“So what will we be working on, then? We’ve already finished the bombs you’ve told us about…” she said while eyeing the devices we worked on just before.

I supposed that anyone would be wary about being next to a black hole bomb, however limited in scope.

“We’ll be working on a power armor!”

A pause fell on the workshop before her eyes lightened up. “Armor…?!” she asked excitedly. “Like- like the Power Rangers?”

“Well, it will be much bulkier, but yeah!”

She giggled with a faraway look. “Soon, we’ll take the fight to the aliens!” she muttered to herself.

I chuckled nervously at her enthusiasm and the latest of her nonsensical remarks. Maybe it was a mistake telling her about the spirits, because my words more or less validated all other parts of her … imaginations.

Yes, imaginations. Let’s leave it at that.

“Wait, won’t the armor make you slow? Haven’t you been complaining about the super super fast ghosts?”

“Yes, but the point of the armor isn’t about protection.”

“... Why else do you then use armor?” she asked me slowly, and her confusion made sense. Armor was for protection. Maybe fashion if I were into that, but I’m not. I understood the value of making sure that my first impression was suitable for whatever I wanted, but that was the talk of those who had it. Those who had power. Those who saw others as their equal.

To be specific and repetitively with something I have been stating and thinking constantly since I dropped into this world, I stood out as a weakling among the powerhouses of Hueco Mundo, Soul Society, and the Wandenreich. I could fight all of their foot soldiers with little issue; the fact that I guarded a location from a horde of Hollows stood testament to that.

Whatever armor I built would not withstand any of the higher tier fighters and their bullshit abilities. Maybe if I had taken Chevalier instead of Tecton I might go for that defensive strategy, but I took Tecton. I had to work with what I had, and by God, I was going to stitch my powers together to the best - and beyond - my ability so that no fucking soul would look at me like Kisuke and Yoruichi did and pity me for becoming dragged into a conflict I was sure to die in!

“Alan-kun, you look scary.”

I stopped my train of thought and let my face relax.

“Hm.”

“So what is the armor for?”

“It’s going to be more along the lines of amplifying my powers,” I replied. “So what I want to do with this armor…”

Though I intended to tell her a lot, I would keep even more closer to my chest.

Just in case, you know? There were powers here in this universe that would make information sharing … involuntary.

-VB-

I got to test out the very first gear set I made only a week after I got beat up by the candy shop duo and I in turn beat the crap out of Uryu.

Kurosaki Ichigo stood in front of me in full shinigami regalia, completely intent on taking the fight to me.

I stood in front of him as I was about to go out to farm some Hollows. It had become something of a regular exercise I did to ensure that I got a steady increase in my base power, even if it would be negligible for the likes of the shounen protagonist.

I stopped in the middle of the street, staring at him as he stared at me.

“Yes?” I asked curtly.

“Apologize.”

Now, that got my blood boiling. I wasn’t the nicest guy in the hood. In fact, I was a shitty guy, taking girls my age with supernatural powers and keeping them for myself, even if I was only so far successful with Orihime. Tatsuki had bailed out, even if she did regularly visit her friend and glared at me with threats of consequences if Orihime wasn’t treated right.

“You have shit for brains, strawberry?” I drawled lazily, keeping my disgust barely hidden. “Because I clearly remember saying why I beat the shit out of him. I didn’t even kill him, too.”

Because for shit like that? Japanese government, if they were aware of the situation, would have jailed the boy in an instant.

He raised his zanpakuto at me.

“That’s not the point. The shitty hat and clogs told me all about how you got beaten up by his crew, and the very next day, you beat up Ishida. That wasn’t about him. You beat up Ishida to feel better about yourself."

I tilted my head to the side until my neck bones popped. I felt a throbbing vein pulsate on my temple as anger rose up. So Kisuke was still trying to use me, huh?

Would killing Ichigo here be good enough to ruin your plans?

Hell, should I go after Rukia and destroy Hogyoku? Because unlike the shinigamis, I was a wizard; destroying magical and spiritual objects wasn’t that hard for a wizard that can play with reality.

… No, I shouldn’t strike out at the shounen protagonist here for his manipulator’s problems, but it didn’t mean that I should leave his challenge unanswered.

“I think…” I began as I pulled my sleeves up to reveal the two gauntlets I put on in place of my staff. “I’m going to enjoy beating the shit out of you.”

Ichigo jumped at me, and I fired off a lightning bolt.

It was on!