Chapter 83: That Path is Still Not Lonely
Flat, a student of the El-Melloi II Class who had rushed all the way from the Clock Tower to the United States. This young Master, who had been missing for a long time, finally showed himself and stood directly opposite the Chief.
"Flat Escardos, I will fulfill my duties as fairly as possible and won't let my state of mind affect my work, so you don't need to worry about that."
Whether it was "Golden Retriever" or "Labrador," the Chief didn't voice such pointless jokes. A mature professional doesn't have the habit of giving others nicknames. They certainly wouldn't call someone "Golden Retriever," "Labrador," or "Super Big Ben: Star of London." If the Chief heard such things directed at him, he'd feel the urge to resort to a "ruthless iron fist."
"I think overworking is very bad. Professor makes that exact same face when the ventilation isn't good."
The problem student's solemn follow-up attack managed to push the corners of the Chief's mouth down by another two pixels. The Chief gave a long, defeated sigh. He peered closely at the young man before him, who looked gentle and completely lacked the typical aura of a magus. Then, his gaze moved to the unstressed fake "Bella." After their eyes met for more than ten seconds... the Chief slowly lowered his blade.
In the past, the Chief would have definitely fired a signal flare to summon Clan Calatin for a final struggle, but today his mind was unexpectedly serene. He felt as if he had seen this scene before. The blonde youth smiled friendly at the Chief, his silhouette seemingly overlapping with that of a certain red-haired young man.
"Don't tell me you have something you need from me, too?"
"Eh, you're quick! I thought it would be hard to get back to business after that standoff, and I was already mentally preparing an apology. By the way, 'too'?"
Flat immediately clapped his hands together and leaned in, his eyes full of sincere joy and confusion. If it were a guardian familiar with him, they might have expertly shoved him away with one hand. But the Chief wasn't in that position, so he simply ignored him with a side-eye.
Rubbing his forehead, the Chief stated his conclusion: "I'll assume you aren't enemies for the time being."
"For the time being" meant it depended on what Flat and his Servant wanted to discuss. If Flat had discovered that the winner of the Fifth Holy Grail War was here and wanted to unite with the Chief to make an enemy of them, the Chief obviously couldn't agree. Flat had been virtually inactive for a while, his presence near zero. What conclusion Flat had actually reached, even the Chief didn't know.
Flat seemed to have a sudden epiphany—Could this person actually be as easy to talk to as the Professor!?—and expressed his deep thanks before beginning his statement.
"Thank you for being so understanding! Well then, I've come to—"
"Wait." The Chief raised a hand to interrupt him. "This room is bugged."
The Chief had originally intended to have him move to another room. But if Flat could solve this problem, the Chief truly wanted to see his capabilities.
"Huh? I feel like the plot development since I walked in is different from the route I imagined?" Flat scratched his cheek in confusion. "It's like I accidentally entered a super-deluxe hidden route of a game's Fandisc, but I didn't even buy the physical card? What is this feeling, part excitement, part nervousness..."
To be honest, the Chief had no idea what he was talking about. Muttering to himself, Flat turned and threw the topic aside, even making finger-gun gestures with both hands toward the air. "Mr. Jack, what do you think?"
"Bella" puffed out her delicate chest and replied helplessly, "Even if you ask me, I don't understand what you're saying either."
'You can't keep up with the rhythm either? Then it's fine.'
The Chief suddenly felt a lot of common ground with this Servant who, while seemingly not strong in pure combat, was excellent at assassination. Especially when it came to handling troublesome people.
"Well, whatever, I don't hate this development! Bugged, you say? Let me see!"
Flat pressed his palms together. Though he said "let me see," he actually closed his eyes. After a moment, he began muttering to himself: "There really are some. Found the signal! Wait just a sec."
Extending one hand, Flat shifted his gesture and snapped his fingers.
"Commence Interference. Play ball!"
Flat seemed to cast magecraft. While he was busy, the Chief began to observe him seriously. Energetic as a boy, with fluffy, curly blonde hair and eyes shining with a flighty light. He wore only a clean, casual white shirt; he didn't look like a Master seriously fighting a Holy Grail War, but more like a tourist.
'...What is with young people lately? Is this still a Holy Grail War?'
The Chief was indeed gradually falling behind the times. Sensing the Chief's gaze, Flat returned it with high spirits, standing straight and wearing a relaxed smile.
"So, how did you get through the Bounded Field at the door? If you tell me, we'll call it even," the Chief initiated the conversation.
Although Flat acted very docile, the Chief always knew he was a dangerous individual. The multi-layered Bounded Field at the entrance hadn't responded at all—his casual infiltration to
the Chief's side was proof enough. Emiya Shirou had neutralized the additional magical effects; True Assassin had made it so the field couldn't even sense him. So, what kind of trick were you planning to show?
"Really? I just permeated my own Ether, hacked the formula, and modified the Bounded Field's logic. To use a computer analogy... it's like I added a comment to the code identifying myself as one of the 'creators' of the field."
A vein throbbed imperceptibly on the Chief's forehead. He finally understood...
'Every single one of you has some ridiculous specialty!!'
He couldn't stop them. He simply couldn't stop them. In a single day, the Chief had been "face-rushed" in his own office—his headquarters—three consecutive times by different people. He had almost no ability to resist; they came and went as they pleased. Was Caster a class meant for "serving time" in jail like this? Was this even logical?
"Situation settled. Game set!"
Flat lowered his arm and turned to the Chief. "Done."
Just as the Chief was about to speak, he heard faint but distinct popping sounds from two directions. Intense light flashed from the ceiling. When the flash faded, two medium-sized holes were left in the ceilings of the side hall and the Chief's office. From the dark gaps, two very mechanical-looking eavesdropping devices fell out, hitting the floor almost simultaneously and emitting thin trails of black smoke.
The Chief looked into the holes and was shocked to find they hadn't come from the space between the floors. Above the crawlspace, Flat had performed a millimeter-precise explosion of the building's actual concrete structure. About seven millimeters from the surface, the marks where the devices had been embedded remained in the upper part like a mold. Flat had simply blown away the bottom layer of concrete, letting the two bugs fall naturally with gravity.
The strange thing was, before Flat destroyed the structure, the building should have been completely sealed. Yet the bugs had appeared out of nowhere inside it. It was as if concrete of the exact same volume as the bug had been excavated, and then a new "guest" was placed inside this "locked room." Was this also True Assassin's handiwork?
"Flat Escardos, you can even find them in locations like that."
The Chief spoke dryly.
"No, if the person monitoring you really thought they could be undetectable by hiding two bugs there, they'd have to be a bit of an idiot."
'Thinking about ideal scenarios is fine, but common sense dictates that person wouldn't actually be such a fool, right? They likely have other contingencies and don't even know what ability their Servant used to help them.'
Flat toyed with the small machine in his hand. "...There are plenty of ways to find these little things. For example, not just me—I have a friend in the 'Estate Union' who is an expert at grasping material structures. If there's no interference, he'd have spotted them with a single glance if he were here."
The problem was... Flat looked at the debris on his fingertips. The black fragments enveloping it melted away, flying up as if they had never existed to return to a distant host.
'This.'
Whose power was this, forcibly intervening to change the original outcome? Only this was a capability on par with the two of them. Flat was good at interference; his friend was good at combat. So in non-combat situations, Flat's affinity was more advantageous, whereas Flat highly recommended his friend's combat power. However, both of them would agree that the owner of this ability—which was not magecraft—was dangerous and best avoided.
Flat tilted his head again. "By the way, I don't think I've explained the 'Estate Union' yet! The Estate Union is, uh..."
The Chief didn't listen to his rambling explanation. Instead, along with Flat, he cast his gaze on the broken machinery on the floor. He said to Flat, "You can state your purpose now."
Flat stopped his flighty tangent. He took a serious breath as if about to give a speech, then spoke.
"Actually, we're here to file a report!"
'A report.'
This meant providing information unconditionally to the corresponding authorities in order to end a harm to society. It was because they believed in the duty to maintain order.
The friend of the "Butle-kun" who had disappeared from everyone's sight for about a day brought news: "Snowfield Central Hospital. There seems to be a Master of the Holy Grail War hospitalized there.
Although it's just hearsay, the person apparently won't wake up at all. But it seems her Servant, who is in that hospital, has generated a weak mana interaction with a vast number of citizens on the streets and has scattered a lot of magical mist outside. Since there are people in the Police Department with deep knowledge of magecraft, I thought it would be best to come and notify you."
The Chief watched him in silence.
After a moment, he said, "If you meet a certain person, you might get along quite well. He sought me out this morning. I can build a bridge for you in the future; after all, the information he provides is likely something not just I, but you as well, won't ignore."
"Eh, you want to introduce a friend to me? No problem! I'll introduce the friend I mentioned earlier to you too, okay!?" Flat shook hands vigorously with the Chief.
"Understood. If the opportunity arises, you can bring him before me and let me meet him. I'm looking forward to it."
Why did the Chief become the Chief? He was not "Justice" itself. He simply understood the cruelty of the world. To ensure that Clan Calatin had the courage to swing their blades no matter how deep the malice, he had to become their "Justice," making a vow for that purpose.
But Emiya Shirou , Flat, and even more people the Chief hadn't met... there were many people who, from perspectives the Chief never knew, had already done—or were about to do—something for the people within their sight. He had never met them before; they weren't from Snowfield, yet they had no complaints about being caught in Snowfield's vortex. Simply to avoid failing their own hearts.
Specks of light were hidden within the anomalies of Snowfield, like a sea of stars still shining in the dark night. Without being guided by any single existence, the greatest confluence was forming. Puddles joined into brooks, brooks into streams, and rivers into the ocean.
And this wasn't the Fifth Holy Grail War—so the Chief could still be a part of this confluence now.
'Heh...
My path is still not lonely.'
The Chief murmured with a bitter smile to the people who weren't there: "If you don't come back to us soon... the case at Snowfield Central Hospital is going to be solved by us on our own."
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