If you meet Kasumigaoka Utaha before she joined the chat group, you'd probably be able to raise her favorability to dizzying heights with a well-timed "hero saves beauty" routine.
Unfortunately for certain people, today's Utaha had already seen her memory copy in the chat group.
She was no longer the slightly sharp-tongued but flustered girl of the past. Mature, composed, and with full meta-knowledge of every plot trick in the book, she wasn't falling for some "oh no, I tripped into your arms!" nonsense.
Still, when Daemon saved her, she adjusted her expression with practiced grace and said politely, "Thank you for saving me, Mr. World Aristocrat."
Daemon gave a brief glance before turning away, voice calm, "No need to thank me. We're friends, after all."
Just like that—utterly calm, indifferent.
Utaha blinked.
So that's it? A quick glance and back to ignoring me?
For a fleeting second, a subtle irritation flickered in her heart.
Is it because I'm weak? Not Valkyrie-tier enough to hold his attention?
Her gaze drifted to Luo Hao, standing in the distance like a war goddess who had just descended from Mount Olympus.
Even Utaha had to admit—Luo Hao was something else. She had this domineering aura that screamed I will beat you up and you'll thank me for it. The kind of woman who, if she were your teacher, you'd both fear and develop a complex over.
"Ugh…"
Amidst a pile of rubble, Uchiha Miyuki staggered out, clothes tattered, skin dotted with bruises, but her spirit as unkillable as ever.
Oddly, she didn't seem angry.
Getting smacked around by Luo Hao? That was expected.
Because Luo Hao wasn't just a godkiller. She was, quite possibly, even worse than the Celestial Dragons.
She didn't ruin you because of your face—she ruined you despite it.
Still, Miyuki had mentally prepared for this. If she wanted to curry favor with Luo Hao, getting pummeled was part of the package.
You don't simp for a tyrant without paying the entry fee.
"Mrs Luo Hao," Miyuki whined, rubbing her shoulder. "You didn't even warn me!"
Luo Hao smirked, lowering her palm with elegance. "Enemies don't send invitations before they strike, little girl. You're far too slack."
Her tone was light, almost amused.
She'd already taken Miyuki's measure. Talented, sure. But not enough to make her go all out.
Still, she had potential—and in this multiverse chat group circus, potential meant everything.
"Oh come on!"
Miyuki's expression twisted the moment she saw the red-haired girl limp in Daemon's arms like a princess from a fairytale.
"Your Highness Daemon!" she shrieked, pointing dramatically. "What are you doing to my future wife!?"
Daemon didn't miss a beat. "Nothing~"
He tightened his grip around Uzumaki Kushina's waist just a little more, a devilish smile curling on his lips.
"Although I must say, your future wife is surprisingly soft and warm."
Silence.
Luo Hao: "…"
Sakura Tosaka: "…"
Yamamoto Mei: "…"
Utaha, ever the snarker, delivered the finishing blow:
"On-site NTR truly pitiful."
"DAAAMN YOUUUU!" Miyuki cried, fists clenched, her eyes watery. "Mrs Luo Hao, you must avenge my heart!"
Luo Hao gave her a side glance and sighed. She was this close to pretending she didn't hear that.
Instead, she turned to Daemon. "Tsk. Stay away."
Daemon sighed, already preparing for the incoming chaos. He spoke in a low voice to Utaha, "Take Kushina to that Uchiha lunatic. She can shield you both."
Utaha nodded seriously, grasping Kushina gently. "Got it."
She didn't need further explanation. A God Slayer versus a World Aristocrat?
This wasn't going to be a skirmish. This was going to be myth versus myth. The kind of battle that caused insurance premiums to skyrocket across dimensions.
But just before she turned to leave, Utaha cast a glance back at Daemon, her voice oddly soft.
"Be careful. If you die here, Luo Hao gets kicked out of the chat group too."
"…Thanks for the motivation," Daemon muttered.
Meanwhile, in the group chat:
Yamamoto Mei: "Huh? Was Kasumigaoka Utaha always… tsundere?"
Sakura Tosaka: "Umm... I don't think so?."
Daemon, mentally: She's definitely a tsundere. With extra venom. Perfect combo.
Miyuki, ever dramatic, wailed in the chat:
"WHY DOES NO ONE CARE ABOUT ME? I'M CUTE! I'M INJURED! I'M BLEEDING ATTRACTIVELY!"
As she watched Utaha leave with Daemon's 'Princess Carry' of Kushina, her heart shattered.
Pain. Not physical. Emotional.
Luo Hao's slap didn't hurt this much…
But there was still hope.
I just need to beat Daemon to the punch! Win over Senior Sister Utaha first! Or… maybe…
Share her.
Ah yes, the noble dream of degenerates: If I can't win, join the harem.
With delusional fantasy fueling her veins, Miyuki was suddenly full of energy again.
She quickly activated several layers of defensive ninjutsu, even throwing in an enchantment or two for flair.
Utaha, watching her work like a seal-crazed squirrel, raised a brow. "Isn't this a bit much?"
Miyuki responded with absolute seriousness: "You think this is overkill? We're about to watch a literal mythological throwdown!"
Luo Hao stepped forward, her white Hanfu fluttering like she'd just walked off a wuxia movie poster.
"This is a battle of myths," she said, her tone calm but reverent. "You have the Hand of Hermes and divine relics. I am a god slayer, born to hunt the gods. This is inevitable."
Daemon tilted his head. "Yeah, but… why are we fighting?"
Luo Hao paused.
Then burst into elegant laughter. "You still need a reason? I am a Demon King. I exist to challenge the strong. All powerful beings… are my prey."
"A combat maniac, huh? Got it."
Daemon casually cracked his knuckles.
"Before we start," he added with a smirk, "Can I make a request?"
"Oh?" Luo Hao raised an eyebrow. "Speak."
Daemon grinned like the bastard he was. "If I win… I get to leave a mark on you."
Luo Hao blinked.
Then chuckled.
"So you want to brand me like a Celestial Dragon? That's very… puppy-like."
She'd already heard enough about World Nobles from the chat group.
Most would be insulted by the idea—but Luo Hao simply found it amusing.
Daemon wasn't trying to humiliate her. He was just an overconfident child trying to leave his scent on everything he liked.
Still, she gave a smug smile.
"Fine," she said, brushing back her hair. "If you can win, puppy. Leave your mark."
And if not…
She was going to break him very gently.
Like a good big sister would.
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