Naruto: This Genius is Somewhat Ordinary-Chapter 437

The Masked Corps would definitely report everything to Urahara Kisuke.

That much was obvious.

What Tōma couldn’t quite pin down was Urahara’s intention.

He hadn’t hidden anything from him. And Urahara was smart enough to guess what thoughts would surface the moment Tōma saw the Masked Corps’ corrupted state.

And yet... Urahara still pushed them into Tōma’s line of sight.

"...Urahara Kisuke," Tōma muttered as he walked toward the shop, "you’re really hard to read."

"Welcome in~!"

The door slid open, and Urahara’s cheerful voice rang out as usual.

"Drop the act," Tōma said flatly. "The Masked Corps already came by, didn’t they?"

Urahara’s smile faded a notch. "Of course."

Tōma sat down on the tatami opposite him and went straight to the point.

"So tell me. Why did you arrange for them to meet me?"

Urahara didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his tone turned serious.

"Tōma... you’ve felt it too, haven’t you? That wall."

Tōma stayed silent.

It was true. No matter how tightly he compressed his chakra, he was nearing a ceiling. Further progress was becoming painfully slow.

"Not just you," Urahara continued. "Me. Aizen. We’ve all sensed it. The limit of what a shinobi can reach."

Tōma frowned. "And breaking that limit means crossing the line between shinobi and corrupted beings? Or the reverse?"

"Based on everything we know," Urahara said quietly, "only by erasing that boundary can someone truly step beyond the limit."

Tōma didn’t respond.

Shinobi and corrupted beings both originated from human souls. Two diverging paths, nothing more. If they merged... strength would naturally rise.

He’d already seen proof in the Masked Corps.

"Then what does that have to do with sending me to them?" Tōma asked.

Urahara looked at him from beneath the shadow of his hat.

"I didn’t know your answer," he admitted. "When the day comes that you can’t grow any further... and Aizen offers you a way forward, what choice would you make?"

Tōma raised an eyebrow. "And if you decided I’d side with him?"

Urahara smiled faintly. "Then I’d rather know early. At least I’d know what kind of enemy I’m facing."

Tōma stared at him for a long moment.

Urahara sighed. "Honestly... I don’t think you’re that kind of person."

Tōma said nothing.

He noticed what Urahara hadn’t mentioned.

The artifact.

Both of them had incomplete versions. Different methods, similar potential.

If Tōma truly chased power without restraint, there was a very real possibility Urahara would rather give him an imperfect solution than let him fall into Aizen’s hands.

But Tōma didn’t press the issue.

If even Aizen had refused to use his own version on himself, that meant there were serious flaws.

He wasn’t interested.

"You know," Tōma said calmly, "testing people like this is a great way to make enemies."

"...Sorry," Urahara said with a wry smile.

"Apologies need sincerity," Tōma replied, eyes glinting. "So show me your Bankai."

Urahara froze.

This was bad.

He could refuse most people. But Tōma wasn’t most people.

If a fight started and he still held back... it could actually get him killed.

After a long pause, Urahara stood up.

"...Fine."

He headed for the underground training space. Tōma followed.

The chamber was similar in scale to the Masked Corps’ hideout.

Waiting there were Shihōin Yoruichi and Tessai Tsukabishi, both clearly curious.

"Still as secretive as ever," Yoruichi said. "Even living together, I’ve never been sure how strong you really are."

Tessai nodded solemnly.

Urahara sighed. "You two really love trouble."

He gripped his cane.

"Wake up, Benihime."

The cane shifted into a plain-looking sword.

"This is my initial release," Urahara said, offering no explanation.

Then his chakra surged.

Tōma’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Strong. Stronger than most division leaders.

No wonder he could create something like that artifact.

Then—

"Bankai."

"Kannonbiraki Benihime Aratame."

Chakra flooded the chamber.

Behind Urahara manifested a massive woman-shaped construct, hair tied in a classical style, limbs jointed like a puppet, dressed in a sleeveless kimono.

Yoruichi and Tessai stared.

Urahara spoke plainly. "Anything my blade touches... can be reconstructed."

Tōma blinked. "So that’s it."

An excellent research tool.

In battle? Situational at best.

If an enemy let his Bankai touch them, they’d already made a fatal mistake.

Weapon reconstruction during clashes might work... but most fights at this level would devolve into raw chakra collisions anyway.

"I’ve told you before," Urahara said, releasing the Bankai. "I’m not built for direct combat."

Tōma neither agreed nor disagreed.

For him, Urahara wasn’t overwhelming.

For Yoruichi and Tessai, he was terrifying.

Apparently, even stuck in the living world, Urahara hadn’t stopped sharpening himself.

"Satisfied now?" Urahara asked.

"Yes," Tōma said. "That settles it."

Then his gaze drifted—to Yoruichi, then Tessai.

"...Since I’m already here."

Urahara instantly brightened. "If they agree, feel free to use the space."

Both of them broke into cold sweat.

You come here every few days. Don’t act like this is rare.

Yoruichi’s ears twitched.

"Oh! Phone’s ringing upstairs!" she shouted, vanishing instantly.

Tōma watched her go, faintly impressed as always. Her movement technique was absurdly refined. Straight-line speed aside, her agility was unmatched.

Then her voice echoed back down.

"Urahara! Shiba—no, Kurosaki Isshin’s child has been born!"

The room went silent.

Then—

Tōma’s eyes lit up.

Urahara’s did too.

The fusion of shinobi power and corruption. Perfect balance. A living case study.

A miracle born from coincidence... or manipulation.

Human. Corrupted. Shinobi. Archer-blood.

All in one.

"Fight later," Tōma said calmly. "Let’s go see the kid first."

No one disagreed.

Without another word, they headed for the hospital.