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….
"Never got in your way, never tangled with you. So why's a warning comin' my way, and to a demon, no less?" His tone wasn't defensive, just probing, like he was peeling back Gojo's words to find the meat beneath.
Gojo shook his head, his grin softening, like he was clearing up a mix-up. "Nah, you got it wrong, Mr. Demon," he said, voice light but firm, cutting through Darkblood's suspicion.
"This isn't some follow-up to the warning you just got from your expected guest a few minutes ago. It's not a threat either, just a straight-up, good-hearted heads-up from your number-one fan." He leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head, sunglasses glinting in the dim light.
Darkblood didn't blink. He tipped his glass back, gulping the whiskey in one smooth motion, then set it down with a soft thud. His voice rumbled, low and gritty, like gravel underfoot.
"So what's the warnin'… the one you're so keen to share?" he asked, his tone calm but probing, like he was peeling back Gojo's words for hidden thorns.
Gojo leaned forward, his nonchalant grin never fading, but his voice dropped, steady and clear.
"Drop the investigation on your guest, the one who was just here. In plain terms, quit digging into the Guardians' murder. Here's the kicker: that guest of yours? He's counting on you to keep poking around, to expose him."
Darkblood's eyes narrowed, his clawed hand pausing mid-reach for the whiskey bottle. "If you're speakin' true," he said, slow and deliberate, "why would he want that? Man's the strongest on the planet. Why'd he be countin' on me to shine a light on him?" His voice carried a mix of doubt and curiosity, like he was testing Gojo's logic against his own.
Gojo shrugged, leaning back again, one leg crossed over the other. "Not exactly counting on you to nail him, but to stir the pot, plant seeds of doubt, like you've already done with two people." He paused, letting that sink in, his grin sharpening.
"Deep down, he doesn't want to be exposed. That's just his surface, pushing to speed things up. Truth is, he can't pull the trigger himself, not yet. So he's leaning on the world around him, on people like you, to box him in, leave him no choice but to act. Those seeds you planted? They're already growing in the folks you've talked to."
He leaned forward again, voice quieter but firm. "If you don't want to end up somewhere you're scared to go, like, say, a place even a demon dreads, I'd drop this case. Take a vacation, sip some whiskey on a beach. And while you're at it, tell the person you're thinking of, the bald with grey hair, that you're done. You've already done enough digging to shake things up."
The room fell silent, the weight of Gojo's words settling like dust. Darkblood's glowing eyes didn't waver, but his claws tapped the empty glass, a slow, thoughtful rhythm.
Gojo stood, stretching his arms with a lazy yawn, like he'd just finished a casual chat.
He turned, ready to teleport out, his coat swaying, but before he could vanish, Darkblood's voice cut through, low and steady. "One question."
Gojo paused, glancing over his shoulder, grin creeping back. "Shoot."
Darkblood leaned forward, his hat casting a shadow over his red face, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "What are you? You ain't what you're wearin'. You ain't like me. So what's your deal?"
Gojo's smirk widened, a glint of mischief in his hidden eyes. He turned fully, leaning against the doorframe, and chuckled.
"There's your next case, Mr. Demon, drop that one and figure me out instead. Good luck with that." He gave a mock salute, his voice light but carrying a challenge.
"That's all I've got for now, so… see ya." With a flicker, he teleported out, leaving the room empty except for Darkblood, the whiskey bottle, and the board of dead heroes.
….
Five Hours Later:-
Five hours had passed since Gojo's cryptic warning in Darkblood's shadowy office, where the demon detective sat surrounded by pinned photos of the murdered Guardians.
Gojo's words, drop the case, steer clear of that man way, avoid a path to ruin, had lingered like smoke, and surprisingly, Darkblood didn't brush them off or.
He'd spent years chasing truths through blood and lies, but something is always should left behind, that playful yet razor-sharp warning, stuck.
He'd already stirred enough doubt, planted seeds in the right minds, Cecil, maybe others, to point at the real killer. His work was done, at least for now. So, he made a choice: let it go.
….
The scene shifted to the GDA's monitoring room, a high-tech hub glowing with massive screens tracking hero movements, city alerts, and global threats.
Cecil Stedman stood at the center, arms crossed, barking orders to techs as data scrolled across the displays.
The air was warm, buzzing with the hum of machines, until a sudden chill crept in, like someone cracked a window to winter. Cecil's jaw tightened, his hand pausing mid-gesture. He didn't need to look to know who'd shown up.
"Everyone, clear the room, now!" he snapped, voice sharp. The techs scrambled, chairs scraping as they bolted, leaving screens flickering and coffee cups abandoned.
As the door hissed shut, Darkblood emerged from the shadows, or rather, Cecil's eyes caught the red-skinned demon now, his trench coat blending with the dim corners, hat tilted low.
The room's temperature dropped further, a faint mist curling from Cecil's breath. He massaged the bridge of his nose, already annoyed, and shouted,
"For fuck's sake, Darkblood, if this is about Omni-Man again, I swear, " His words cut off as Darkblood raised a clawed hand, his glowing eyes flicking from the screens to Cecil, calm but heavy.
"It ain't," Darkblood said, his voice a low growl, rough like gravel but steady, carrying that eerie weight he always had. "Here to inform, about me dropping the case." He stood still, hands in his coat pockets, gaze drifting back to the screens before meeting Cecil's eyes, unflinching.
Cecil blinked, caught off guard, his hand dropping from his face. "Now that's unexpected," he said, voice slower, suspicion creeping in. "What got into you? Finally listening to me after all this time?" He leaned against a console, eyes narrowing, trying to read the demon's stone-cold face.
Darkblood shrugged faintly, his tone flat but with a hint of something deeper, like he was closing a book. "Nothin' special. Just… realized I've done enough on the case. Stirred what needed stirrin'. Don't want no part of it anymore." He glanced at the screens again, heroes moving, cities blinking with alerts, like he was seeing something Cecil couldn't.
Cecil snorted, shaking his head. "That's another damn surprise coming from a demon's mouth. Whatever, if you're done 'informing' me, get the hell out. I've got work to do." He waved a hand, shooing Darkblood like he was a stray cat, already turning back to the screens, his mind on a dozen crises.
Darkblood didn't budge right away. His eyes glowed brighter for a second, his voice dropping lower, almost a whisper.
"Same cranky Old man as always… but brace yourself, Stedman. Somethin's comin'. Somethin' big." The warning hung in the air, heavy, like a storm cloud about to break.
Then he stepped back, melting into the shadows, and the room's chill lifted, the temperature snapping back to normal as if he'd never been there.
Cecil stood alone, staring at the spot where Darkblood vanished, his jaw tight.
"Say something new," he muttered to the empty room, his voice low, bitter. "My whole damn life's nothing but unexpected crap, including you." He rubbed his face, turning back to the screens.
….
A/N: Ahhh so how was it? And next chapter will be on my discord by tomorrow evening and the next day i will upload it here. So, if you want to read the next chapter early join my discord and i have jjk x shield hero fic there too.
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