Chapter 351: At the Flick of a Finger
"Who are you calling a poor copy?!"
Szayelaporro’s voice rang out, shrill with outrage, still brooding over Mazuru’s sharp comment.
"What qualifications do you have to call the great Szayelaporro-sama a mere replica?" he sneered, his voice hoarse and trembling with fury. The emphasis he placed on "great" and "master"—titles he arrogantly gave himself—made it clear that his ego had taken a severe blow.
In terms of scientific brilliance, few in Hueco Mundo or even the Soul Society would dare dispute his intellect. Szayelaporro, former researcher of Las Noches, had crafted countless terrifying inventions and weapons, placing him on a level equivalent to Kurotsuchi Mayuri of the Gotei 13. Even Mazuru, who held nothing but contempt for him, couldn’t deny that contribution.
But the one standing here now—this Szayelaporro—wasn’t the original.
And Mazuru knew it.
"What now?" Mazuru said coldly, his crimson eyes locking onto him. "Do you want me to prove you’re a replica? And even if, by some stretch, you’re the original... so what? You’re still just a dead soul."
That last word—dead—struck Szayelaporro deeper than any blade could.
Even though he was but a replication, he carried the original’s memories, thoughts, and pride. He inherited not just knowledge but the emotional depth of Szayelaporro’s downfall.
And that emotion boiled now.
"You’re courting death!" he roared, unhinged.
(T.L Note: He said it!!)