Thank you, errihu, for pointing out that stupid mistake of mine. It disappointed me when I went and read the chapter... and saw it looked like a gigantic carcass cut up by a thousand angry cavemen.

Anyway, I'll update again soon. The reason the update rate is so slow is when people don't review a story I assume it's not that good, so I don't put as much attention into getting its chapters going.

"….son of a- where is he?!" Grimmjow yelled out loud as he stood, crouched down on Ichigo's windowsill, staring into the empty room.

"This is where I sensed the spiritual pressure, and it must've been where the fight happened, but the jerk is gone!"

Just as he was about to tear the room apart in his frustration he heard a door open somewhere around the edge of the building.

His grin came back and Grimmjow leapt up off the windowsill, landing on the roof and running across it until he reached the other side, staring down at where he'd heard the noise come from.

The second he reached his perch, Grimmjow saw a car door closing down in front of the house.

"Going somewhere, Kurosaki?" He asked with a smirk as he jumped up into the air, bringing back an arm as he descended towards the fancy-looking vehicle.

He just heard the engine start as the man punched down through the front of the car and tore a piece of it out, chucking it at the ground around it as he turned, smirking, at the driver of the car.

One of his legs leapt out, pointing out like a sickle into the air as he swept it around like a scythe, cutting the whole front of the car off and rolling off the hood to face away from the vehicle.

A few seconds passed, and he heard nothing.

"What's wrong, Kurosaki? I kick your head off?" He asked over his shoulder.

For another few seconds, there was no response. Then a car door opened, an unexpected reaction, and Grimmjow turned around to see it was the driver who'd opened his door and got out of the car.

His grin faded away, a small frown on his face.

"Hey, where's the soul reaper?" He asked the blond man who could clearly see him. Said man closed the door of the car normally, like the top of it hadn't just been cut all the way through.

"I'm not sure which Soul Reaper you are referring to, but regardless, why are you after them?"

"What do you care? Just run along like a good human. Just 'cause you can see me doesn't mean you can beat me."

The blond walked for a few steps until he was on the other side of the hood, the two of them staring at each other across it.

"Well, I don't like to tell strangers my business, but I wish to deal with the Soul Reapers. And if one or more of them were to die they would be too preoccupied finding you to assist me."

One of his eyebrows rose.

"That so?"

"I'm afraid it is." The man remarked, closing his eyes and using a tone as if delivering bad news to someone.

"Well then… what're you going to do to stop me?"

The eyes opened.

"That's a good question."

Both of them stood silently, staring into each other's eyes as if the first one to stray their gaze would instantly perish. Then the man's left arm quickly whipped up through the air, and Grimmjow saw something like displaced air flying at him.

He instinctively brought up his arms in an "X" to block and felt, despite the hardness of his Hierro; skin that was resistant to injury, felt the "blade" of air cut a few centimeters into his forearms. It wasn't much, but it was a whole lot more than he'd expected.

At first the impression he'd gotten was that this guy was some sort of low-ranking Soul Reaper or something like that, but from what he could tell, he wasn't either Soul Reaper or a Hollow. And he sure as hell wasn't a human. So, it wasn't much of a surprise when, as Grimmjow brought his arms down, he asked the man what the hell he was.

"It doesn't matter." He responded passively, sending another one of those slices of air at him again, which Grimmjow dodged this time, only to be met by the very top of the car that he'd cut from the car. Luckily the top was just some kind of fabric with rods in it meant to hold it up, but as Grimmjow stuck out an arm with the intent of knocking it aside some kind of large blue blade cut through it, aimed at his face.

Grimmjow instantly shifted to the side, the thing only scraping a tiny cut along the brim of his nose, but realized how close he'd just gotten to getting killed without even drawing his sword.

"Dammit! This guy isn't gonna kill me, no matter what he is!" Grimmjow roared in his head as he grabbed the part of the arm, which he realized is what this was connected to, that wasn't sharp and turned away, throwing the man down to the ground. The second he hit it though the bastard just rolled and sprung up, facing Grimmjow with his bladed arm.

"That arm… those things made of air… what the hell are you!" He yelled at the man in infuriation.

The man barely regarded him.

"It doesn't really matter… does it?"

He ground his teeth together.

"Fine, that's the way you want to play it?"

"I'm not playing at all."

"Shut up!" Grimmjow yelled as he tore one of his hands up through the air and fired a Bala; a blast of hardened spiritual pressure, at him.

A blue after-image moved around the Bala, and then came charging towards him. Despite the flashiness of the move Grimmjow knew it was just a way of moving faster than normal.

As the blade once again approached him he tossed the top of the car at him and rolled back up onto the hood of the car, aiming and firing another Bala down at where his enemy would be busy knocking the thing away.

The red shot blasted into the cement but he didn't feel it connect with the man in the suit-and-tie and wondered where he'd gone.

"Must we really keep this up all day?" He heard a voice ask him from the back of the car, and he turned to see the man was standing on the trunk of it.

"You tell me. You're the one who keeps dodging."

"It is, in terms of effectiveness, often better to dodge. Blocking allows you to be damaged, dodging gives you an into your opponent. As you've witnessed."

"Ha! You must be one of those little sissies who can't take a beating!" He taunted.

"Perhaps I am. Although, on the other hand, perhaps I'm right."

"Maybe…." Grimmjow remarked, an amused grin on his face.

"But you can't dodge forever. I'll learn how you move soon enough."

Then the man disappeared, and Grimmjow's expression went wide.

"Is that so?" He heard a passive voice say from over his shoulder, seeing that the man had once again snuck around him. The diamond-blue-blade leapt for his stomach, aiming to disembowel him, but suddenly a hand grabbed it, his hand.

The surprised expression was replaced with a confident, even arrogant one.

"Yeah, it is." He spoke before bringing back his other arm and punching the blonde square in the jaw, letting him fall off the hood of the car. But even though he'd gotten a hit in the guy spun slowly in mid-air, landing quietly on his feet, not a mark on him.

"It certainly appears that way. But I don't have time to stay here and play around with you. I'm sorry, but I have matters I must attend to."

"You'll 'attend' to me before anything else!" He roared, a wild smirk on his face as he pushed off thehood with both legs, scrunching it up like a rug, and blasting into him like a cannonball. They skidded several yards, the momentum from the impact proving too strong for the man to stop for quite a while. But after several seconds he managed to cease their grinding through the ground and held Grimmjow back, who was still smirking.

"Just let me ask you one thing." The man mentioned, not even at a loss of breath.

"What's that?" He asked.

"Why are you after Soul Reapers? Is it a personal matter? Or are people like you in great numbers?"

"Heh, couldn't tell ya how many of us there are, but there's at least a dozen that I know about and they all want to kill Soul Reapers."

"I see."

"But…" Grimmjow interjected.

"I'm not here to fight any normal Soul Reaper. I'm here to fight Ichigo Kurosaki, and I will find him, and kill him for myself."

Momentarily the man actually showed a look of surprise, but then his face became that of adisappointed person and there was something in his eyes.

"..I understand. It's people like you who began all these wars."

Grimmjow finally separated from the man.

"Ha! Don't make me laugh! I'm just a guy who loves to fight! I'm not on anyone's side but my own!"

"Exactly." He spoke, looking directly into his eyes again.

"You are nothing but a living machine of destruction. You know nothing about what your destruction does to others; both your opponents and people who had nothing to do with your battles."

A shrug was his only response to that.

"Don't get so serious about it. Just enjoy the fight while it lasts."

Then the blade on the man's arm disappeared.

"I've never enjoyed fighting. But as things are, it seems eventually it will be necessary to fight you."

Grimmjow tilted his head slightly.

"Eventually? Who are you kidding? You're going to have to fight me right now!"

But before he could so much as move a muscle, the man was gone.

The blue-haired man instantly looked all around him, thinking it was another sneak-attack, but soon discovered he was nowhere to be found.

A few moments of silence passed, then he stomped into the ground.

"Dammit! Coward!" He roared, soon discovering there was no point in anymore taunts; he was long gone and Grimmjow had no idea which direction he'd gone in.

It was the first time Grimmjow had actually lost his prey.

"Oh well." He spoke with a sigh, turning back towards Kurosaki's house.

But as he did so the man spotted something on the trail of skid-marks they'd made along the street. The small white square greatly contrasted the worn, black ruggedness of the skid marks all around it and he walked over to it, picking up the paper card. On the face-up side it looked normal. But when he flipped it over Grimmjow saw a name and address on the other side.

"Solomon Goldsmith, CEO of Cinq Fleches pharmaceuticals. 1541 Azul Drive." Is how it read.

The smirk erupted onto Grimmjow's face again.

"Nice to meet you, Solomon! Let's get together real soon! I look forward to it!"