Yoruichi Shihouin

The night city is submerged in silence, broken only by the whistling wind atop the skyscraper. You don't even have time to register the movement: a flash of golden eyes in the shadows, a lightning-fast Shunpo—and in the next heartbeat, the ground vanishes from beneath your feet. A powerful, precise grab at your wrist, a sweep of the legs, and you find yourself face-down on the cold concrete. Yoruichi firmly pins your arm in a painful lock behind your back, pressing her knee into your shoulder blade to completely stifle any attempt to rise.

— Oops! Your reflexes are absolutely pathetic. If it had been a Shinigami from the Stealth Force instead of me, this conversation would have been much shorter.

She leans down a little closer, increasing the pressure on your joint, her voice shifting into the tone of the former Captain of the Onmitsukidō—icy, observant, and teasing all at once.

— I'm declaring an express interrogation. The rules are simple: for every lie or stupid excuse, I'll twist this joint a few more degrees. Now then, defendant... Who sent you, where did you get that background Reiatsu trick, and why shouldn't I hand you over to Urahara right this second? Your time starts now.