The 11th Division, the most combat-focused squad in the Gotei 13, was famed for its fierce warriors and obsession with battle rather than spiritual arts or discipline. While not typically responsible for imprisonment or bureaucracy, they did have holding cells to detain dangerous souls—usually brawlers, criminals from Zaraki District, or problematic Shinigami—until transfer to the Maggot's Nest or judgment by Central 46.
"Ugh… my head…"
Shiba Kuroba groaned, unsure how long he'd been unconscious. He clutched his pounding skull and sat up groggily.
But then, a wave of strange coolness surged through his veins, washing away his hangover in an instant.
His senses sharpened. His strength returned.
If Kyōraku Shunsui, infamous for drinking through captains' meetings, had witnessed that instant sobriety, he might've spat out his sake in shock.
"This system's stingy, man," Kuroba muttered. "No sober-up function unless I'm totally hungover? What if a beautiful death god finds me passed out? Not the impression I wanna leave!"
He tapped his temple and summoned his system interface:
Host: Shiba Kuroba
Level: Drunkard
Experience: 50/1000
Zanpakutō: Not awakened
Kidō: None
Shunpo: None
Hakuda: Mastered (Extreme)
System Skill: Hand of the God of Wine (Beginner)
Kuroba skimmed through the simple display, but his eyes lit up when he saw Hakuda had reached the "Extreme" level—the highest known mastery in hand-to-hand combat, even among elite Shinigami like Soi Fon or Yoruichi.
"Totally worth the hangover," he grinned.
He turned his attention to the system skill.
"System, show me the details of the Hand of the God of Wine!"
A mechanical chime rang in his mind, and a text window appeared:
"Transforms touched objects into wine. The complexity of the target affects the cooldown. Living beings cannot be converted at current system authority."
Kuroba blinked. "...Huh."
He'd always thought the whole 'drunken power-up' shtick was a joke. But the idea of liquefying matter—maybe even spirit particles—into wine had terrifying potential.
Sure, it made him dizzy, vulnerable, and liable to collapse mid-battle… but now that he knew the potential, the system suddenly seemed way less ridiculous.
But he had to admit—it wasn't easy leveling up. Since the system valued variety and rarity of wine, not quantity, his XP gain had stalled. Cooking sake? Worth almost nothing. Pilfered ceremonial wine from Shiba Ganju? Barely moved the meter.
If not for bumping into Kuchiki Rukia and the good bottles she carried, he'd probably be dead—taken out by that mutated Hollow back in Rukongai.
He stared at the system page again and sighed, then closed his inner interface.
"All right... let's see what this divine hand can actually do."
He raised his left palm dramatically—
"Ding. Host authority insufficient. Target conversion failed."
Kuroba froze.
His hand hovered over a very, very private part of his body.
He went pale.
"...That was close."
If the system had misfired, he might have turned himself into vintage soul wine.
"I've heard of spiritual infusion wines, but this would've been literal meat wine…" he shuddered.
Fortunately, the system soon updated:
Living creatures cannot be converted until host reaches MAXIMUM system authority.
Kuroba quickly closed the skill window, grateful he hadn't become his own drink.
Still, despite the close call, he could feel the changes.
His body—once lean and scrappy—now pulsed with strength. His abdomen had firmed into sharp, defined muscle. His limbs had thickened, his bones felt heavier.
Eight-pack abs. Solid muscle density. Explosive power from the core outward.
If he could return to the World of the Living right now, Kuroba believed that just with his looks alone, he could at least make a decent living as a host earning 30,000 yen a day.
"Ahem... I'm thinking nonsense again," he muttered, shaking off the fantasy. "Still, this system really lives up to its name as the ultimate cheat for reincarnators. Just a bit of sake and it triggered such a huge transformation... if this keeps up, the effects might become even more absurd."
Kuroba coughed dryly and looked around at his surroundings.
The space was roughly three or four meters wide and seven or eight meters long. The walls, floor, and even the door were all constructed from Sekkiseki, a rare spiritual stone used in Soul Society to suppress spiritual energy. Its dull black surface radiated a heavy, oppressive aura.
"This again?" Kuroba sighed, scratching the bridge of his nose helplessly. He recalled Shiba Ganju's swollen, pig-faced expression after their last drunken escapade, and the hazy, fragmented memories of the chaos that followed.
He couldn't help but lament, "Drinking always leads to disaster."
Still, when he thought about how alcohol alone could trigger such drastic increases in his physical abilities—particularly now that he had awakened an Extreme-level Hakuda—this "small mistake" was worth it. A thick skin really was a secret weapon.
Having tasted the benefits of the system, Kuroba had clearly decided to march down this drunken path with no intention of turning back.
"No one around? Guess I'll try the door first." Kuroba's stomach rumbled in protest from the aftereffects of the hangover, urging him into action.
He stepped up to the Sekkiseki door and eyed it cautiously.
With the enhancements he'd gained from his new "Drunken Master" state and the peak-level Hakuda granted by the system, Kuroba believed he could punch through solid steel.
Yet—
"It won't budge?"
Kuroba frowned at the motionless door. He had shattered a mutated Hollow with a single punch, and now this?
Could this door actually be stronger than that beast?
More importantly, he soon realized something else—the Sekkiseki was draining his spiritual energy. Slowly, steadily, the meager reserves he had were being leached away.
"This thing's no joke..." Kuroba murmured, eyes sharpening with interest.
It was at that moment that an idea sparked in his mind.
He had recently unlocked the Hand of Dionysus, a strange spiritual technique tied to his drunken state—its full function still a mystery.
Now, he had a reason to try it.