Yamamoto Mei's explanation was solid—so much so that it silenced most of the room.
Her words didn't just account for why Daemon had injured Toshiro, the 10th Division's Vice-Captain—they also clarified the strange conflict between individuals who, on the surface, had no reason to clash.
But despite the logical explanation, the sight before them was difficult to digest.
Yamamoto Genryusai Shigekuni and Kyoraku Shunsui—two of Soul Society's most respected captains—stood speechless as they took in the scene:
Daemon, a complete outsider, holding three prominent figures from their ranks.
Two Vice-Captains. One Captain.
All in his arms.
Unconscious or not, the image was unsettling.
"Captain…" Hinamori Momo looked up sheepishly, a nervous smile tugging at her lips. She attempted to wriggle free from Daemon's arms, but he didn't let go.
Soi Fon remained unconscious, her limp body resting against his chest.
Yamamoto's grip tightened around his cane, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "What happened to these three?"
He was beginning to suspect his granddaughter had been keeping dangerous company.
Daemon opened his mouth to explain, but just then
"CAPTAIN!"
Matsumoto Rangiku, who had been in a stunned daze until now, suddenly erupted the moment she saw Genryusai arrive. Her voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"He killed Captain Gin Ichimaru! And he injured Toshiro too! Captain, you must do something!"
The accusation struck like thunder.
Soi Fon stirred at the sound. Her body tensed, trembling slightly in Daemon's grasp before her eyes snapped open. She blinked in confusion at the figures before her, then quickly collected herself.
"…Captain."
Unlike Matsumoto, Soi Fon's voice was calm cold, even. She didn't struggle. She simply stopped trying to free herself and stared directly at Genryusai.
"This man is the one who killed Captain Ichimaru Gin and injured Captain Toshiro. I strongly suspect that Yamamoto Mei is aiding him… and has betrayed Soul Society."
"Tch. You're the one acting like a traitor."
Yamamoto Mei's retort was sharp. "You've let your obsession with Yoruichi turn you into a mad dog, barking at anyone who doesn't fit your rigid worldview."
Soi Fon's eyes flared at the name. Even now, that woman had the power to provoke her so easily. Daemon could feel the tension in her body—had he not been holding her, she might've lunged forward and attacked Mei on the spot.
"Enough!" Yamamoto Genryusai's deep voice cut the argument short. "Both of you—calm yourselves. We will address Captain Hitsugaya's condition in due time. But as for Ichimaru Gin…"
He produced a scroll and tossed it toward Matsumoto and Soi Fon. The parchment unrolled mid-air, revealing damning records—evidence of betrayal.
"See for yourselves," Genryusai said coldly. "These are the actions of your precious Captain Ichimaru."
Matsumoto's hand trembled as she caught the document. A flicker of dread ran through her before she even began reading. Her heart sank with every line.
Daemon gently released Soi Fon, allowing her to stand on her own. She stepped forward, scanning the scroll with narrowed eyes.
"This… this can't be…"
Matsumoto's voice cracked. "Gin? Colluding with Hueco Mundo? Betraying Soul Society? Even… attacking me? I—I never knew…"
"The evidence is detailed," Soi Fon said after a moment, her tone clipped and professional. "Dates. Locations. Witnesses. It's not forged."
Her gaze flicked toward Matsumoto.
"I can confirm part of it right now."
With no warning, she reached out and placed a hand on Rangiku's forehead. Matsumoto flinched, startled.
"I'm performing a soul probe," Soi Fon explained. "This won't take long."
A few silent moments passed. Then Soi Fon pulled away, a trace of sadness flickering behind her usual stern expression.
"There's a piece of your soul missing, Matsumoto."
"…No," Rangiku whispered.
"The description in the records matches perfectly," Soi Fon said softly. "I'm sorry. Considering how close you were… only someone familiar with you could've done it."
Rangiku staggered back a step, the truth crashing down on her like a tidal wave. Her eyes widened in horror.
"No… Gin wouldn't… Why would he do that? He had everything… a future… He was my…"
Daemon's voice was casual, almost too casual.
"Your Zanpakuto's ability turns into dust during Shikai, right? Spreads through the air, slashes unseen?"
Rangiku stiffened.
"Funny coincidence," he continued, "Gin's Zanpakuto—Kamishini no Yari—does the same. Turns to dust, attacks through the air. Makes you wonder…"
"…"
Rangiku stared at him, lips parted but no words came out.
Was it all fake? The smiles? The warmth? The promises?
Yamamoto Genryusai let out a long, tired sigh. "It's rare, but not unheard of. I've seen such cases—where Shikai are forcefully extracted to enhance another's. If Gin truly harvested hers…"
He shook his head solemnly.
"Still, you're alive, girl. That's what matters most. While we live, there's always hope."
"…Hope, huh."
Rangiku's voice was barely audible. She looked down, then turned her gaze toward Daemon—guilt, grief, and reluctant gratitude blending in her eyes.
Daemon didn't say a word.
"It's over, then," Genryusai concluded. "Gin Ichimaru is a traitor. That chapter is closed. But what about Captain Hitsugaya?"
Kyoraku Shunsui stepped forward, his eyes falling on Hinamori, who still remained nestled near Daemon.
"Vice-Captain Hinamori," he asked gently, "you weren't coerced, were you? Are you certain?"
Hinamori looked startled to be addressed so directly, but she quickly nodded.
"No! I… I wasn't forced. Captain Aizen asked me to host Mr. Daemon. He's been nothing but kind! I explained that to Toshiro, but he didn't believe me…"
Shunsui let out a slow breath. "I see… A misunderstanding, then. Still, it nearly ended in tragedy."
Kyoraku Shunsui had a trace of helplessness in his expression—but also a hint of relief. Things could have turned out far worse.
In the end, no lasting damage had been done, and a known traitor had been eliminated. A storm narrowly avoided, and perhaps, in its own strange way, a hidden blessing for the Soul Society.
With that, the lingering 'misunderstandings' between Daemon's group and the Gotei 13 were, for now, put to rest.
Those watching the events unfold through the chat could only marvel in silence—at the chaos, the clarity, and the strange harmony that emerged from it all.
[Chat Group]
Uchiha Miyuki: "To blur the line between right and wrong… to see those in power shelter the guilty… I finally understand. The world of the Shinigami is even darker than the one we left behind."
Luo Hao: "On the contrary, I found it fascinating. They not only cleared their name but pinned everything on the dead enemy. A flawless performance."
Esdeath: "Enough about morality. What matters now is the fight. The battle between Daemon and the strongest Shinigami is finally upon us. I've been waiting."
Jibril: "Waiting? What for? Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni isn't a match for Mr. Daemon. His Zanpakutō, Ryūjin Jakka, is practically countered by Daemon's Eye of Horus."
Esdeath: "True. Daemon already killed a Transmigrator wielding Ryūjin Jakka in the Naruto world. And that sword relies on long-range fire-based attacks. Against Eye of Horus, it's completely restrained."
Nakiri Erina: "That's why Mei asked Daemon to fight him, isn't it? She wanted her grandfather—this so-called strongest Shinigami—to feel how vast the world truly is. Maybe then, he'd find a new spark for life."
Saitama: "Right! A man without passion might as well be dead. If beating up that old man gives him purpose again, then go for it, Daemon!"
Daemon: "Yeah... I get it. But seriously, this old guy didn't even do anything wrong, and now everyone's cheering for me to beat him up."
After logging off the chat group, Daemon looked up. His gaze met Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni's.
"Sorry," Yamamoto Genryusai said casually and calmly. "It was a misunderstanding."
It was an apology in words, but not in gesture. No bowing, no nodding—just direct eye contact.
Yamamoto's gaze sharpened like drawn blades. "Then allow me to ask—what is your relationship with my granddaughter, Yamamoto Mei?"
Daemon coughed. "Ahem… Just ordinary friends, I guess. We get along. That's all."
He sounded like a student being interrogated by a strict parent. Honestly, compared to someone like Utaha Kasumigaoka, Mei and he weren't even that close. Not yet, anyway.
"Hmph. Is that so?" Yamamoto said, clearly unconvinced.
Daemon didn't need to read minds to guess what the old man was thinking. His glare said it all: Pervert.
Especially considering Daemon had just been seen hugging both Soi Fon and Hinamori Momo. And Mei—well, she was among the most elegant and heroic women in the Soul Society. Could this guy really keep his hands to himself?
Soi Fon scowled from the sidelines and scoffed. "Tch. As if. There's definitely something going on between you two."
"Soi Fon!" Mei's rare blush exploded across her face as she glared. "One more word, and I'll sew your mouth shut myself!"
Daemon raised a brow and turned to Soi Fon, who was still glaring daggers at him.
He grinned. "Well, now that your boss admits it was a misunderstanding, shouldn't you be apologizing to me too, Captain Soi Fon?"
"You—!"
Soi Fon bit back a furious retort. He was right, but that only made it worse. Her pride flared up, but so did her training. She clenched her fists, grit her teeth, and bowed stiffly.
"…I'm sorry. I jumped to conclusions and attempted to act without full understanding."
Daemon tilted his head. "Hmm? Sorry, didn't catch that. Try louder—and maybe with a bit more sincerity?"
Soi Fon trembled, her face flushing in shame and fury. But still, she obeyed.
"I'm sorry! I misunderstood you!"
This time, she bowed 90 degrees, voice raised and full of bitter restraint.
Daemon waved a hand casually. "Apology accepted."
His tone was dismissive, almost disappointed. The fierce Captain of the Second Division… was kind of boring up close.
"Hmph!"
Soi Fon stormed off to the edge of the dojo, eyes wet. She didn't dare get close to Daemon after what he did earlier—knocking her out and completely overpowering her. Now, humiliation clung to her like a second skin.
Watching the awkward dynamics unfold, Yamamoto chuckled. "Ah… Youth. So full of fire."
He wasn't surprised that the girls didn't get along with Daemon. In fact, it amused him. Daemon might not be a true Shinigami, and perhaps didn't act 'upright,' but Yamamoto, who came from a noble clan, understood one thing better than most:
Strength was what truly mattered.
"I hear," he said slowly, "that you wish to challenge me, Daemon. The strongest Shinigami."
As he spoke, spiritual pressure surged around him like an inferno. His entire aura shifted—from tired old man to towering flame demon.
Daemon raised his eyebrows. "Challenge? No, no…"
He smiled coolly.
"…I plan to knock you down."
A challenge implied equal footing. But Yamamoto Genryūsai was a titleholder—sitting atop a throne. Daemon wasn't here to test himself. He was here to take the seat.
Though, now that he thought about it… he wasn't even a Shinigami. And neither was Yhwach, who slaughtered captains in the original timeline. Maybe defeating Yamamoto didn't change his title after all?
"Oh? Knock me down, is it?" Yamamoto's eyes gleamed, intrigued.
Daemon's tone wasn't arrogance—it was certainty. That made it more dangerous.
"Very well," Yamamoto said, spinning his crutch. Flames danced, transforming it into a simple, deadly Zanpakutō. "This dojo will suffice. I won't be using Shikai here—it'd be overkill. But even at this level, I won't lose to a young man like you. Go ahead. You may strike first."
Daemon tilted his head, amused and asked
"Are you sure you want me to make the first move?"
Daemon's expression twisted slightly. He remembered the last person who told him to strike first—was it Madara Uchiha, or someone else? Whoever it was, they ended up losing miserably.
Yamamoto laughed. "I'm over 2,000 years old, and you're what—maybe 30? If I struck first, it'd feel like bullying a child."
"…Alright then."
Daemon's smile remained, but inside, he rolled his eyes. People kept underestimating him—it never got old.
Not that it mattered. With the Belt of Hercules, his speed was unmatched. Whether he struck first or not, he always would strike first.
And today, he'd test a new Noble Phantasm—one he hadn't used before.
He could already see the perfect opponent: an old titan with pride and power, just ripe for a demonstration.
As Yamamoto watched, Daemon's body began to glow.
A red-haired goddess took form behind him—beautiful beyond mortal limits, with divine allure and a smile that melted heaven and earth. She wrapped her arms lovingly around his neck.
Daemon's voice rang out, holy and defiant:
"You, the mood of the chaotic star————!!"
PS: Yamamoto is about to get it HARD!!!
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