The Stray Dogs of Rukongai

"Hey, kid! Get up! You'll die if you keep going like this!"

With heavy eyelids open, Asuka, clutching her worn-out longsword, cautiously raised her head to look at the tall figure before her.

It was a burly old man carrying a bamboo basket on his back, with a huge straw hat on his bald head that completely blocked out the snowballs falling from the sky.

He was wearing a thin cotton coat, with straw stuffing visible inside, and a tattered cloak also made of straw, covered in snow and looking drafty.

But compared to the birds wrapped in straw mats by the wall, their hands and feet turning blue... it's a truly enviable warm outfit.

In an instant, greed flashed in the bird's eyes.

He was considering whether to knock the man unconscious and take his clothes, or hold a knife to his throat and force him to get him some food...

But he gave up on the idea.

It was so cold that he had lost all feeling in his hands and feet... He wanted to speak but couldn't make a sound, and he wanted to move but couldn't muster the strength.

Maybe he's right, he's going to die...

Why do these things when you're already dying...?

The old man frowned as he looked at the bird with its unfriendly eyes and lips that were turning purple from the cold.

This child has been like this for four days now...

He wasn't the kind of person who was overly kind, but he didn't know how long this snowy weather would last. If he just watched a life disappear before his eyes, even Buddha would be unhappy.

After thinking for a moment, the old man bent down, wanting to pick up the thin bird, but the weak bird suddenly twitched.

The old man was slightly taken aback by the sight of the man, who was barely able to stand but still gripping his long sword tightly. He then said, "Don't overthink it. I just don't want you to die on my doorstep."

As he spoke, he ignored the bird's still uneasy and confused gaze, scooped him up into his arms while his consciousness was blurred, and walked step by step into his dilapidated little courtyard.

When the bird regained consciousness, it found itself lying in a simple mud hut.

The firewood inside crackled and popped, and the warmth it emitted made his blood flow freely.

He licked his lips, still smelling the aroma of rice, and then noticed an empty bowl of porridge on the small wooden table beside his bed.

"That old man saved me?" Feibiao couldn't believe it, and the next second he jumped up.

"Where's my knife?!"

"On the cabinet."

On the other side of the mud house, a bald old man was leaning against a wooden frame, tidying up the wintergreen grass he had picked in a bamboo basket with a stern face.

Hearing the bird rise, he didn't even look up, but simply tapped the counter with the knife in his hand.

"I don't understand. What are you doing with that broken knife, you little brat who can't even afford to eat?" The old man glanced at Fei Niao with an unfriendly tone and continued to tidy up his herbs.

Ignoring him, Feibiao rolled off the bed and stumbled to the old man's cabinet, grabbing the long, black sword with a slightly damaged scabbard and pulling it into his arms.

Seeing that his knife was unharmed, he breathed a sigh of relief, then looked nervously at the old man.

After much deliberation, he bowed respectfully and silently.

"..." The old man remained stern, coldly saying, "Go back to bed. You just ate something; I'll give you some medicinal soup later. Once you've recovered, get out of here!"

Hearing him say this, Asuka did not show any dissatisfaction, but obediently did as he was told, wrapping herself and the long sword tightly, as if cherishing every bit of hard-won warmth.

His name is Seventy-Eight Flying Birds.

He couldn't quite remember the past; he only remembered that he wasn't from this world, but a wandering ghost in Rukongai.

Rukongai is the residence of those in Soul Society who have not yet passed away. From the first to the eightieth ward, the situation worsens in terms of security, environment, and resources...

Asuka was kidnapped in Rukongai and sold to a seemingly refined bespectacled man. Through some kind of evil experiment by the man, she was placed here and turned into a person with flesh and blood.

It's been three months already, and these past three months have been even harder to endure than the three years I spent in Rukongai.

He fought with stray dogs for food, snatched valuables from well-dressed townspeople, and even fought fiercely with street thugs using the long knife that came with him. That's how he survived to this day.

But this winter was so cold that he finally couldn't hold on any longer.

"I wonder if dying here will send me back to Rukongai... The 78th ward is terrible enough, but at least it's not this cold..." Asuka thought to herself, unconsciously tugging at the corner of the blanket.

With a snap, the old man, having finished gathering the herbs, casually dusted off the ash from his clothes, put the bamboo basket back in its place, and moved it to the wood-burning stove, rubbing his not-so-warm hands against the heat.

"Hey kid, what's your name?"

"...Seventy-eight flying birds."

"What a lousy name! Your father's name is Seventy-Eight something?"

"...I have no father."

Asuka looked at the ceiling and replied nonchalantly, "I was born in District 78 [戌吊], so my surname is 78."

"...District 78? Where is that?" The old man didn't delve into what Asuka had said, asking casually as he began to rub together a pipe made of coarse tobacco. "It doesn't sound like a name from around here. Are you from overseas?"

"Hmm...who knows..." Asuka didn't give a direct answer.

District 78 is one of the worst districts in Rukongai in terms of public security. Food and water resources are monopolized, and thief organizations run rampant, making every day a time of fear.

However, he didn't want to talk about these things with the old man; he disliked the weak and tearful appearance of a man.

Time passed in an eerie atmosphere. The old man did not actually drive the birds away, but simply let him stay.

A few days later, Feibiao had fully recovered, but he did not choose to leave. Instead, he silently helped the old man tidy up the house, chop wood and start a fire, and silently watched the old man's actions, learning how to tidy up the winter jasmine.

An old man and a young boy spent the winter together in this strange way.

Weeks later, as the bird was tidying up the medicine shelves at home, the old man did not return from the dense forest until the sun began to set.

Somewhat worried, he shouldered his long sword and began asking the neighbors if they had seen the old man. But their answers were the same as what Fei Niao knew: the old man had gone into the forest to gather herbs and had not returned. This made Fei Niao even more uneasy.

"Tsk... old man... don't die out there..."

As night fell, the birds, still unable to see the old man, grew increasingly worried and decided to follow the direction he had traveled to search for his whereabouts.

The cold winter wind whipped up countless tiny ice shards, which hit the thin cotton coat the old man had given Fei Niao, chilling him to the bone.

Thick snow piled up beside the giant trees that blocked out the sky, making every step extremely difficult for people to walk.

Fei Niao trudged through the knee-deep snow, the icy snowflakes seeping into his shoes and melting only to quickly condense and stick to his thin socks, causing him great discomfort, but he didn't care.

"Old man! Old man, where are you?!"

He tried to identify any possible footprints in the snow, but the snow had covered everything after a day of snowfall, making it impossible to find any. So he could only shout at the top of his lungs, letting his voice echo through the empty, dense forest.

The deeper he went into the dense forest, the more an uneasy feeling began to surround him, as if he could feel something pressing down on his chest, making it hard for him to breathe.

He had seen vicious thugs, fought off the most protective wild dogs, and even escaped from the jaws of a bear, but none of them felt like this.

If I had to put it into words... it's like that bespectacled weirdo from my hazy memories who cruelly tormented me... the unsettling feeling he gave off...

As he continued shouting, the bird suddenly stopped abruptly and twitched its nose forcefully.

"The taste of blood..."

Having grown up in the Rukongai, a place of fighting and plunder, this smell was as natural to him as air; he couldn't possibly be mistaken!

Could something have happened to the old man?

Thinking of this, Fei Niao felt a jolt as if an electric current had struck his back. He then practically lunged towards the direction from which the scent was coming, not caring whether the snow would soak into his cotton-padded clothes or whether the tree branches would scratch his cheeks.

As he rounded several thick, ancient trees, he finally saw everything clearly in front of him, aided by the falling moonlight and the reflection of the snow.

The bald old man carrying a bamboo basket was lying face up in a pool of blood in an extremely contorted position!

The snow was stained red in large patches, and the dark red liquid even condensed into red ice crystals on the surrounding bushes, a shocking sight!

A huge gash was torn open in the old man's neck, exposing his trachea and bone fragments in a gruesome manner. His unfocused pupils stared blankly at the sky, filled with fear and astonishment.

"Old man!" Asuka's voice trembled without him even realizing it.

Damn it! Was it a bear? Or something else? I should have gone into the mountains with the old man!

The bloody scene before him made his stomach churn, and a strong urge to vomit rose in his throat.

He had seen people die of starvation, disease, and even suicide by hanging, but he had never seen such a horrific scene. He felt panicked and grief-stricken.

Not only in the past few months, but also since he was born in Rukongai, he has rarely encountered such a kind person as the old man—one who speaks harshly but genuinely cares about others.

To be thrown into this world and receive such a small warmth is such a lucky thing...

But now, just like that, gone? He didn't even have time to ask the old man's name, or say thank you!

However, before the immense grief could completely overwhelm him, a strong sense of unease suddenly exploded around him!

"Hehe...there's another new little guy..."