Chapter 376 - 375: Respective Opponents
Despicable villain.
That was how the loudmouthed quincy, Masco, referred to Tousen Kaname. His words dripped with mockery, yet they revealed his ignorance. Even though Tousen Kaname had once taken into himself hollow power, even though his body bore the remnants of that evolution, his core remained shinigami. His justice, his conviction, and his very essence were bound to the world of the shinigami. To call him a "villain" so casually was not just a slander—it was a declaration of enmity.
And when Masco sneered further, saying he could not tell qhat one among them even was, his ridicule was aimed at Kariya Jin, the Bount leader. For someone like Masco, who viewed the world in the simplest extremes of "hero" and "villain", Kariya’s existence as neither shinigami nor hollow, neither quincy nor human, was an abomination. The insult may have been spoken casually, almost as a jest, but those words carried venom. They drew the hatred of more than one present figure.
Before the silence could settle, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez’s voice cut through, sharp and reckless as ever.
"The quincy, if I remember correctly, are nothing but a pack of bereaved dogs. Since when did so many strays manage to survive?"
He sneered with the ease of instinct. To Grimmjow, provoking an opponent came as naturally as breathing. He was a predator who bared his fangs before the fight even began. His words lacked tact, but they carried raw contempt.
The Espada knew little of the quincies, in truth. The only one he had ever clashed with was Ishida Uryu—an encounter he remembered vaguely, as the boy had stood out more for his defiance than his strength. When Mazuru had first told him that their new visitors were quincies, Grimmjow had been caught off guard. The name was almost a relic to him, a whisper of something old and forgotten.
The war from a thousand years ago? He had no knowledge of it. Even among hollows, such stories were little more than broken rumors. But he did recall something from more recent centuries: that the shinigami had hunted the quincies nearly to extinction. Two hundred years ago, the extermination was complete. Or so it was believed.
So when Grimmjow called them "bereaved dogs", it was more than an insult—it was a wound reopened.
The quincies before him bristled. Their faces darkened in unison, rage flashing in their eyes. Discipline could not conceal the sting of that truth. Whether it was Quilge Opie with his soldier’s composure, Bazz-B with his fiery arrogance, Askin with his mocking smile, every one of them felt that insult.