Chapter 10 — Event (Public)

The following day, I return to the Emiya Residence, but instead of the dojo, he ushers me into his office. Inside, a map of Fuyuki dominates the space, with little else to be seen.

“What an overwhelmingly underwhelming sight,” I mutter, and the Magus Killer replies in a soft tone. “You requested my guidance. I may not be a skilled Magus, and I’m an even worse fighter, but I can impart some my tricks to you. The key to catching a Magus off-guard is preparation.”

“Ah, the infamous prep-time…”

Kiritsugu pays little mind to my (Incoherent) ramblings, striding leisurely towards the board. “Listen up, brat. What would you do if you were ordered to hunt down a Magus in town?”

Arms crossed, I look at the Magus Killer quizzically, then silently decide to entertain his hypothetical question. “That would depend on the context… Do I know anything about this Magus?”

“You know nothing, not even his whereabouts,” He says, as my cheek twitch at the absurd scenario.

Surely even the Tower’s communication efforts have some room for improvement, but they wouldn’t dispatch Enforcers on a mission like that without any intel, would they? “Except…?” I prompt, drawing a tense look from the Magus Killer who’s doing too much.

“Except that a string of murders and kidnappings has been occurring, each taking place in different locations, since the day he was spotted in town.” He responds.

“Well,”

I start, my mind running at 15 thoughts per second as I analyze the hypothetical situation. “Firstly, I will visit the police department to see if there’s any correlation between the victims.”

Kiritsugu eyes me sidelong, his expression as inscrutable as ever. “Explain your decision.” I ponder for a moment, then try my best to put my thoughts to words.

“If there’s a pattern to the murders, it means the Magus is targeting a specific type of victim... In that case, I could stake out and wait for his next appearance.”

All those evenings spent completely absorbed in horror movies and thrillers and reading Detective Conan are finally proving useful. “If it’s hookers, I can wait for him near night clubs; bars or the red-light district. If it’s drunks, then I’ll wait at pubs. There’s a chance he’s doing it as a distraction, but it’s just a risk I’ll just have to take.”

“And what of the potential future victims?” The Magus Killer inquires, his tone accusatory.

“Acceptable losses.” I state matter-of-factly.

His grip on the pen tightens as he presses, “Acceptable?”

“Acceptable,”

I affirm with a nod. “As I have mentioned, I possess neither the mental fortitude nor the physicality to concern myself with the faceless mass. They are inconsequential—nothing to me, until they become something. Furthermore my objective in this instance is to track down the rogue Magus, not to guard the populace. If they want protection, they can ask the cops.”

Silence envelops us as Kiritsugu—face murderously dark—questions. "Is infuriating me your only purpose?”

“No,” I retort. “I have a multitude of others to antagonize. You’re merely a side course, not the main dish.”

Pausing, I continue, “What’d you have me say? I’m searching for someone whose face I have never even laid eyes on, with no prior intel to rely upon. It’s a matter of elimination tactics, or trying to track the rogue down through CCTV footage—which the police would have already pursued if it were viable.”

We’re in 1994…

The world of mass surveillance I’m familiar with has yet been birthed.

“There are alternative approaches. Magi tend to be cautious, yet are often arrogant and reckless. While they may start by taking people away from their safehouse, they typically let their guard down after a couple of weeks.” Kiritsugu then proceeds to circle three points on the map, forming a triangle.

“Approximately 90% of the time, Magi will confine their activities to the vicinity of their Workshop. They consider themselves to be nobles, and the vast majority won’t accept anything less than luxurious accommodations. Therefore, your focus should be on mid-to-high-end apartment complexes, hotels, and the like.”

“That’s a lot of places to check.”

“We are Magi ourselves,”

The Magus Killer retorts. “There are certain signs to look out for when one of our own is nearby. You have already experienced one of these signs, just yesterday.”

“The Bounded Field…”

I ponder, recalling the peculiar sensation—like my heart had plummeted into my stomach. Ignoring my comment, Kiritsugu presses on, “You can also make discreet inquiries. Magi will often stand out anywhere, since they all place great value on status and are never afraid to flaunt it.”

“Ah, the ‘politician’s classic’… If only we get to see it more.” I hum with amusement.

“Mind explaining to me why you’ve chosen that option?” Kiritsugu inquires.

“Well, it requires the least effort?” I respond matter-of-factly.

“So you’d let people die just so you can have more time for yourself?”

Even after abandoning his own dream, it seems Kiritsugu still feels quite passionately about the subject—his disgust made visible by the way his features contort. “I’m not letting anyone die—I’m not responsible for their lives, am I? I’m a hired Magus, and I intend to do the bare minimum required,”

I state calmly, and would have adjusted my glasses as well, if I wore any.

“If my employer takes issue with that approach, they’re welcome to specify their requirements and agree to pay me more.”

He demands angrily, “Are money, fame, and power the only things you care about?!”

I lean on my wrist and respond calmly, “As of right now, yes. What else is there for me to care about? Love? Compassion? Morality?”

“Your Humanity!” Kiritsugu spits through gritted teeth.

“Birth, aging, sickness, and death—the four inescapable realities of human existence. What’s there to be sad about? They’d have died for a greater purpose, and it’s not as if I held a gun to their heads.” I explain matter-of-factly. “It is precisely because I have Humanity, that I choose what benefits me most. Skulking around may spook the Magus into hiding, it may expose my presence, better to draw him in a controlled environment—unaware, than risk falling in a trap or him escaping.”

Most governments operate on the principle of apprehending the dangerous criminals first and worrying about the victims later.

The shadier agencies do, anyway.

The police, as the official face of a government, must be seen taking the situation seriously. “What kind of kid are you?!”

“The smart kind—the one who has a mission to complete, and wants the path of least resistance.”

“You’re a monster in the making…” Kiritsugu insults.

“Pot calling the kettle black, much, Magus Killer?”

I’ve come to develop an even stronger dislike for Kiritsugu Emiya than I ever anticipated. It's largely due to the holier-than-thou attitude he seems intent on flaunting in my face, much like he did with Saber. “Now, if you’re done judging me, can we finish where we left off?”

Kiritsugu stares at me, his eyes spitting fire. “I saw the News, Leo, I know you are capable of doing good… Is that so difficult to admit?”

“I’m not denying anything, I can do good, I never said otherwise, just as long as it isn’t too big of a pain up the ass.”

Our gazes meet, neither blinking—frozen in a staring contest that the Magus Killer is the first to wave the flag and break eye-contact. Having been rendered speechless for a few moments, he finally speaks up.

“And what will you do after?”

“Uncover his daily routine and then poison whatever morning refreshment he chooses to be his usual.” I say with a casual shrug. “It really depends on the Magus’ personality. If he’s overly cautious type and uses [Structural Grasp] on everything, I’ll likely need to adjust my plan. Maybe rig a bomb under his usual seat instead.”

And considering his history, I assume Kiritsugu will be amenable to this course of actions…

Spoiler alert: He isn’t, yet he dares not object either, not with his past.

“Leo, you stand at the same crossroads I once faced,”

The Magus Killer cautions, his voice tinged with worry. “One wrong turn and you may find yourself in an even worse predicament than I am in now.”

No doubt he hopes to change my mind somehow. “I cannot stop you, nor do I wish to. I can only implore you to reconsider, if not for your own sake, then for Shiro’s. The girl has lost enough already.”

I understand where he’s coming from, but—“Just because you failed in your endeavor does not mean I will fail in mine.”

The rest of the evening is spent on discussing hypothetical events and how I’ll handle it.

The Magus Killer even add more elements for me to solve, like we’re actually on a case.

When it becomes quite clear we’re just not going to agree on certain methods, Kiritsugu decides to get rid of the tactical talks entirely, allowing us to move onto bigger and flashier things—namely Bounded Field.

“There have been many classifications made, but according to modern categorization, the effects of Bounded Field can be split into three types: Protection, Miscellaneous and Security.” Kiritsugu disinterestedly drones.

To sum it up, Protection includes every effect one may expect: From repellent; concealment; confusion to actual forcefields—effects which focus on the caster’s safety.

Security stands for security measure; if Protection is the field-card, then Security is the trap-card—the gun-mounted wall every kid who has seen a sci-fi spy movies wants.

Miscellaneous is, obviously, the spell-card. “Miscellaneous effects are primarily utilized for cosmetic purposes and quality-of-life improvement. In all my past encounters with Magi, I have come across an assortment – magical CCTV setups, holographic miniatures, and the like. A hologram system I witnessed a few years back could freely manipulate traps to spring into action without much fiddling with the Wardstone, which is a much more complicated and time-consuming process.”

“Are all bounded fields this sophisticated?”

Kiritsugu shakes his head.

“No, the field hasn’t advanced much in the past few centuries.”

He says, his explanation ridiculously curt that it prompts me to ask, “That’s it?”

“I don’t concern myself with matters of the Tower, and you are too young for politics.”

His dismissal doesn’t dissuade me, as I start pondering all the possible explanations. ‘Do Magi truly take their security so lightly?’ It just makes so little sense.

‘But then he did bring up politics, so it must be a matter of weighing benefits and risks.’

“Ah, I see—they don’t want the specifics of their defenses known to the world, do they?”

A true Magus values their Workshop more than their own children,

How could they not? It is their legacy.

Children are simply a means to extend that legacy into the future, in the hope that one day, someone of their lineage will elevate it to new heights.

What fool would openly discuss their Workshop’s defenses? That’s like dropping blood in shark-infested waters—it’d only invite all manner of unnecessary troubles.

Even for those whose legacy has been lost to the sands of time, and who now strive to rebuild it, bartering away their research on Bounded Fields in exchange for favors from the Tower is still a difficult bargain to sell. Of course, this is just my own conjecture. Perhaps there are deeper, more meaningful underlying reasons. I’ll only know when I enter the Tower personally. “Now, let’s talk about how to—”

We both pause, catching the faint sound of quiet footsteps outside the door. “Shiro, you’re eavesdropping!”

Moments later, a head pokes through the doorway, wide and innocent eyes blinking owlishly at us as the would-be hero enters, bearing a tray decorated with tea and biscuits... The sight makes my stomach turn. As a former tea enthusiast, I once enjoyed the bitter brew—but no more. It has scarcely been two days since I came to know Kiritsugu Emiya, and yet the guy’s ‘passion’ for teas of every variety has already left me severely traumatized.

‘Trying to drown one’s sorrow with teas, now that’s a first.’

“I was worried you two might be feeling thirsty, so I brought this...”

I eye her with suspicion, but her poker face is unexpectedly adept.

Kiritsugu takes the offered beverage with little fanfare, while I reject it awkwardly—unable to handle the watery and bloated sensation from excess water consumption. We sit in silence as Shiro regards us with an unnerving, hawk-like stare.

“We appreciate the teas, you may leave now.”

“…”

She continues to stare, feigning obliviousness. “What are you two discussing?”

“Nunya.”

“’Nunya?’”

“Exactly—none of your business. Now run along. Your dad will tell you when he is ready.”

“But why can you speak with him when I cannot?”

Kiritsugu interjects, “You’re too young to be involved in this, Shiro.”

“Leo’s the same age,”

She retorts, refusing to take even so much as a step back. “And why are you using a foreign language? What’re you two keeping from me?”

“Shiro...”

My gaze sharpens as I fix the girl with a stern stare. “There are some matters that people wish to keep private. You can’t compel them to divulge what they want to keep to themselves. You have no authority over them, and they’re under no obligation to satisfy your demands.”

“But—“

The girl begins—her voice robotic, but is cut off swiftly by my stern words. “No ‘buts’. People don’t have to capitulate to your insistence, and in all likelihood, they won’t.”

Glancing at the silent Magus Killer in search of ally, Shiro’s instead faced with cold rejection. “He’s right, dear. Go to your room.”

She does well hiding her frustration, but the sound of the door closing sounds just a teeny-weeny bit louder than usual.

“You were too harsh with her.”

“It’s a valuable lesson; better she learns it now than later,” I throw a bored glance at Kiritsugu. “Oh, don’t complain. You were totally clocked up and ready to give her the silent treatment.” Knowing how this will end, I advise gently. “It is not my place to teach you, but you will have to tell her eventually. Who you are—what we are will show in your daily life, Kiritsugu.”

Unsurprisingly, the retired Magus Killer refuses to even acknowledge my words.

“Now, let’s get back to our lesson... I’ll be instructing you on how to dismantle Bounded Fields. The first step is to identify the sigils. The size and resilience of the Bounded Field will depend on the quality and compatibility of the object used as the Wardstone. This is typically accomplished by inscribing sigils into various objects to expand the Field’s reach.”

And I don’t pursue the matter either.

Guys are like that—we’ll sit and skulk when we stumble into a problem that stumps us, trying to figure out what’s wrong.

Insistence will not endear anyone to us in moments like this.

“So all I need to do to break a Bounded Field is shatter the sigils?”

I muse curiously, turning to look at him. “How exactly does one go about that?”

“The sigils are quite delicate…” He explains, like he’s talking to a three-years-old. “Break them. The biggest issues will be determining the form the sigil takes, locating where they’re placed, and managing to do so without alerting the caster. Personally, I use a compass for this.”

He picks up the equipment from the table, presenting it to me. “For third-rate Magi like myself, and a First-Generation Magus like you, a standard compass should suffice. Something about them tends to interfere with the compass’ ability to properly discern the poles due to the fact they disconnect designated space from Gaia to impose all the different effects on the shielded lands. The closer you are to a sigil, the more wildly the compass will spin.”

“What if it doesn’t spin?”

“Then you’re dealing with a master, in which case you shouldn’t attack them in their territory to begin with. The safe bet is to wait for them to leave… Magi are obsessed maniacs, but even maniacs require sustenance and ingredients to fuel their research. Camp outside—a Walther WA 2000 can finish the job.”

‘Filthy camper.’

I curse in my head, speaking up for the millions of CoD players everywhere. “It’s search-and-destroy, Leo, not wait-and-investigate.”

“That’s…” I pause, unable to object to his reasoning. “Fair enough. It even rhymes.”

The corner of his lips lifts ever-so slightly, but how can it escape my scrutinizing gaze. “You that happy over an ‘ah-hah’ moment?”

“Every victory counts, even the little ones.”

“Not something I’d expected to hear from you, ever. Anything else I must know about Bounded Field?”

“We’ve already covered the various types of effects, so let’s shift our discussion to the two distinct categories of Bounded Fields. The one I just walked you through is the most used, the second is to encircle an area—drawing a circle; circling a space with hair,…etc.”

“That just sounds like they’re needlessly complicating it.” Scratching my chin, I hum.

“It is difficult to apply on a large terrain, thus why it’s more used by Enforcers, who cannot afford to waste Wardstones, sigils or time.”

To put it simply, one’s a security system to install in your fortress, the other is a low-effort; half-assed security system whipped up by a tree-hugger who insists the wild animals won’t eat them, but still feel the need to set up an alarm system made out of empty tin cans and whatever natural ropes they manage to find in the wilderness. “Question, how powerful is the Einzbern’s system?”

“Near impenetrable. Their Houses dates back near the beginning of the Age of Heroes, their system is made up of multiple interconnected Wardstones created from materials we cannot replicate in the Age of Man.”

“Anything else?”

I ask, arms crossed at the thought of having to break through that. “The Leylines powering their Bounded Field are more powerful than Fuyuki’s…”

Strange that they’d pick Fuyuki when their Leylines could provide the necessary Mana to power the whole Ritual, but understandable. I’d not want a whole battle royale taking place in my territory either. Kiritsugu adds after a brief moment, sounding… Embarrassed. “There are also Homunculi and Golems everywhere within a 5 miles radius around their castle.”

“Yikes…”

I’m starting to think I got the short end of the stick when we were signing that Geas.

“You can back out if you want. I’ll tear up the Geas right this second.”

Part of me is tempted, but the rest is screaming at its cowardice.

‘A King’s words must be worth its weight in gold.’ I shake my head. “I’m a bastard, but I’m not that big of a bastard. I told you I would help you get your daughter back from the Einzbern, and I intend to fulfill my end of the bargain.”

“I may be many things, but an Oathbreaker I am. Call it an adherence to the old-fashioned code of honor, if you will.”

Kiritsugu chuckles, throwing my earlier words back at me. “A capitalist with honor? That’s a first.”

The back-and-forth between us continued unabated, our conversation meandering through all manner of topics that happened to cross our minds. As the evening drew to a close, I departed with the promise I’ll get my first hands-on experience with a ‘boomstick’ the following day.

Typically, I would be heading back to the Church, but with Kirei summoned to a meeting at the soup kitchen, I’ll be left largely to my own devices for the time being. Thankfully, I have already thought ahead, and will be heading to ‘the’ park. The residential distract that was hit the hardest by the Fuyuki’s Great Fire, that will be rebuilt into a park in the future. What can I say?

I’m curious what I’ll get for my troubles—curious about what will result from the [ToI] interacting with all the resentment there.

I’m hoping I get some edgy powerboosts, but I’ll settle for something not going fatally wrong. “Only one way to find out!”

Skipping happily into the marred lands, my first impression is how faded everything looks; coated in a layer of ashes nobody has had the heart to clean yet.

Japan is a resilient country—it has to be, what with all the natural disasters it’d experience every few years, sometimes consecutively, but one of the Great Fire’s scale hasn’t happened in decades.

Over 10K estimated deaths and 12K still unaccounted for, presumed dead.

The number is only so low due to how slow the muds spread on the night of the tragedy, otherwise we’re easily looking at a figure around 30K; give or take a few thousands.

For a medium-sized port city like Fuyuki, with a population of 150K originally, it is a massive blow to both the people and the economy.

Even with checks pumped in by sympathetic people and the local government, it’s going to take years for Fuyuki to recover fully—perhaps longer, given all the cars I saw on the streets earlier today making a beeline to exit the city. ‘What a right mess.’

Halfway through the Old District, I catch the sounds of people and lights of flashlights in use, hurriedly ducking behind what used to be a flower-pot.

“Dammit, he's the third guy today! What’s wrong with them?!”

Judging by their uniforms, they must be the clean-up crew. “It’s not just him, Inosuke-san. We’re all a bit queasy as well… Haven’t been able to stomach anything since we took up this job.” One of the crew tiredly mumbles–excuses from his superior’s perspective. “S- Sir, do you ‘they’ are giving us warning?”

He poses the query—one typically reserved for those ridiculously cruel prank shows of Japan, yet the haunted, anguished expression on the man’s face makes it clear he is all but joking. “Hey you!”

The supervisor barks, a tinge of trepidation seeping into gis tone. “What in blazes are you yammering about?! Enough of this jawing—just get back to work already! The debris ain’t going to clean itself!”

The words have barely left his mouth when an ominous wind starts to pick up—violent breezes that sound awfully like the manic screams of men and women trapped within the merciless fire; the desperate punches and howls of those buried beneath the rubbles, fighting to escape while they’re slow-cooked alive and their precious air supplies constantly burnt as each agonizing second ticks away. “Ah, fuck this!”

Of the entire crew, the supervisor is the first to beat a hasty retreat, scurrying away with such speed one might mistake him for a chihuahua that has just spotted another dog four times its size playing on the sidewalk.

‘Smart fella.’

I’d have done the same in his shoes.

His workers follow soon after, thankfully, which opens up a path directly to where the Grail had spilt.

Entering the marked area, I suppress a shudder at the strange sensation of cold, wet breaths tickling my neck and causing the hair on my nape stand.

* Ding!


* Ding!


* DING!!!


“Fuck’s sake, I get it, you fucking drama-queen!”

[Event: A deal with the Devil…]


> An ancient Evil has reached out to you, offering power it does not possess in exchange for passage.


> You have the option to:


>> Allow it passage and receive: New Branch; 50 AP; Consequences of your stupidly reckless actions.


I’d have jumped at the opportunity if not for the options still being greyed out.

>> Proceed with caution and receive: Random rewards and consequences.


>> Reject its call and receive: Perk [The Unfavored of Evils]; Perk [Righteous Crusader]; Branch [Evil] permanently locked; related Branches soft-locked with [Talent Debuffs].


‘A lot to gain, yet a lot to lose as well.’

Fortunately, I’ve had time to calm myself while the other two choices were appearing.

Taking the free 50 is still mighty tempting, but I know better.

Nothing comes without a cost in this world or the next, or the one beyond that.

There’s always a price, and mine is to allow the World’s Evils passage. Whatever that means, it’s not an option I’m willing to entertain just yet, not unless I’m desperate.

‘But at the same time…’ I’m a major fan of using every tool at your disposal, and locking myself out of multiple Branches just doesn’t sound all that appealing.

Proceed with caution, it is.

I snap back from the Tree, pressing on my temples as millions of voices all explode in my face.

It's like a layer of reality has peeled right before my eyes.

Where should be nothing, now lays a massive pillar made out of smoke, comprising of every color perceivable.

From where I stand, it looks like a typhoon—forever frozen in that exact moment, yet a closer look reveals far more horrifying truths: Those aren’t just smoke; they’re people—shades of the victims, experiencing their end over and over again, forevermore. “Oh, fuck… That is not good.” That’s not good at all.

I continue to gaze at the storm of shades converging above Fuyuki— blotting up the sky, completely awestruck by the sight…

Then, ‘It’ gazes back—a humanoid abyss whose sole distinctive features are the white of its two eyes.

“You know, I kinda brought this on myself, but how in all the Hells am I meeting the last boss in the tutorial?”