Fate/Infinity

After a quick detour to the Fifth Department—Zoology, probably the least popular among Magi due to the current scarcity of Phantasmal Species—I quickly offload half my collection of monster parts and earn myself contribution points to boost my Rank.

Then, I head to the Department of Botany next.

My second trip is sadly less productive than the first.

Yumina isn't responsible for product testing, only verifying the research submitted by Magi and their Houses.

I'll ask John for failed Homunculi as test subjects, but potions might not react the same way in artificial beings.

To avoid damaging my reputation if the Potions prove harmful—though I doubt they are—I'll contact the local prison also. Plenty of death-row and life-sentenced inmates are wasting away in cells—might as well put them to good use.

With my business in the Tower taken care of for now, I hastily make my way to Germany.

Thankfully, there's no need for a grueling 10+ hour flight this time.

The Clock Tower has an entire floor completely dedicated to the 'Touko Flight' System, with over fifteen operational Ritual Circles running around the clock. If I ever meet Touko, I'll buy her a beer…

The woman definitely deserves a pint for her contributions in revolutionizing magical transit.

Twenty minutes…

Twenty minutes is all it takes to get from England to Germany, even with the inherent magical disadvantages men as a whole face due to Witchcraft's ties to the feminine. They even have a branch near the Einzbern as well, which shortens my travel-time to less than an hour in total.

"Milord! I was starting to think you had completely forgotten about little ol' me! And who might this be?"

Caragor peeks out from behind my feet, glaring at the Homunculus with his fur bristling and a low hiss escaping his throat.

"My Familiar, Caragor. But that's not why we're here—" I said, unloading the rest of the monster parts onto the ground.

I pick up the Fiend's Third Eye and hand it to John.

"This Eye has magical properties. I'd like it incorporated into [Mimir's Eye], if possible. Is it doable?"

John inspects the Third Eye and smirks. "I'll come up with something. Anything else?"

I drop a stack of cybernetics on the ground. "I'm creating another Branch of the Association and I want you to be one of its Founders. As I had promised you, you'll be above billion and answerable only to me. We'll operate in both the World of Magi and the ordinary world. What say you, in or out?"

"Sounds troublesome…"

"It will be." I admit.

"Which is just to my liking!" He answers with a smirk. "But what could we offer to the ordinary world?"

With a flourish, I let another heap of cybernetics crash to the floor, causing the Homunculus' eyes to gleam even brighter. His interest is to be expected, being part Golem and all, but his expression quickly shifts to disappointment.

"I'm afraid we lack the equipment to mass-produce these."

"How long will it take can you create?"

"… 500 to 700 pieces per month, depending on the complexity?"

"That will suffice. We don't need to commercialize them immediately. First, we need operational prototypes to attract more talents." Even with John, relying solely on Homunculi would be unwise.

It would grant John too much power in my own sphere of power, and if history teaches anything, it's that those closest to you will betray you if the rewards outweigh the risks. It happened to Julius Caesar; it happened to Artoria; Cleopatra; and countless rulers in the past.

Ancient Kings and Emperors permitted conflicts within their court for a reason: Primarily to ensure that officials and the military kept each other in check.

The Emperor's role was to maintain the peace without letting the balance of power tip too far in any one direction.

I'll curtail John's influence in the same manner.

"The commercialized version will also need to be downgraded. Governments worldwide will come down on us like a ton of bricks if we sell weapons to their citizens."

The US is a maybe, but in countries with stricter gun-laws—China for example will ban us from doing business in their territory, locking us out of huge markets. "Get in contact with the Animusphere… I heard they are well-versed in Spiritron."

"You're actually interested in their drivel? If it were possible, my predecessor wouldn't have taken so long to search for the Third Magic."

"Spiritron is a crucial fundamental of the Universe, a tool we can and must harness."

It takes me an eternity to piece everything together, but the Immaterium—the 'Higher Plane' that Humanity is destined to ascend to—isn't as distant as it seems.

In fact, Spiritrons are already widely in use, albeit unknowingly.

Essentially, they represent what I call the 5th Theoretical State of Matter: Information itself—or a specific wavelength upon which all matter and Concepts are based.

This is why Earth can possess dramatically different Laws compared to Mars or the Moon.

Magi also use—nay, influence Spiritrons. Technically, we are 'hacking' the Earth's Soul, expressed as Gaia, every time we invoke a Mystery, albeit through a third party—Mana. Whenever I cast a Fire Spell, I'm indirectly manipulating the Spiritrons of Air, creating combustion and friction that results in fire.

The Spiritrons—the 'Soul' of the Air doesn't disappear; merely rewritten or added to.

It's why Code Cast works best within Virtual Worlds where everything's information—it faces far less resistance in comparison to the Materium.

I sympathize with Trambelio and Lorelei, but the Age of Mystery cannot endure.

It is inevitable, as the Modern Magecraft Foundation is grounded in 'understanding,' which inherently weakens Mystery.

Though it saddens me to witness the decline of the fantastical, I want my Legacy to endure long after the Age of Man concludes, and to do so, I need to seek more greenee pastures, even if it means relinquishing Mystery altogether.

Nasu described this forthcoming era as the Age of Wills, a period when Humanity will transcend the Materium and navigate the 'Dark Sea.' Those unable to make this transition will be left behind to decay and wither…

The more I think about it, the less I understand Magi…

Why are they so resistance to the change, especially when direct Spiritron Manipulation offers far greater power and versatility?

While it is more dangerous, involving the direct manipulation the Laws of Reality rather than through a medium, it will also allow them to perform Spells Magi themselves would classify as True Magics, which was unattainable even during the Age of Gods when True Ether—the more potent version of the Greater Source—was abundant.

For instance, the First True Magic is entirely feasible with the Spiritron Perpetual Motion Accelerators—the distorted 'Trees' in Lostbelt.

Although be fair, Spiritron Study is not a particularly advanced field within the Clock Tower.

So far, the Animusphere who went on to create Chaldea in the F/GO Timeline is the only House I know that specializes in Spiritron Theory, and even then it's only a result of their expertise in Astromancy. I have to recruit Lord Marisbury as soon as possible in case he gets selected for the Yggdmillennial Grail War. If Chaldea's going to be created, I want all ten of my fingers in that sweet pie.

"I don't see why you'd care about that hax of House, but fine…"

John mumbles, seeing the stubborn look on my face.

If only he knew.

"One last thing before I leave," I said, pulling out a vial of Elder Blood—Ciri's, obviously. Although their expertise lies in Alchemy, the Einzbern are also remarkably skilled in creating artificial lifeforms. If anyone can decipher the Mysteries the Elven Sages created, it's John.

"See what value you can extract from the Blood, but I'll be very crossed if you try to create a Homunculus with what's inside the vial without my explicit say-so."

"Aw… Can't I? Pretty please!" He pleads, but I stand my grounds.

I still follow the sacred Men's Code of Conduct: Bros before hoes;

Headshots before backshots;

Call of Duty before entering the booty…

But, the she-witcher's the farthest thing from a hoe.

Although I believe we will eventually cross that bridge, I really don't want to have to explain to Ciri the reason her disabled magical look-alikes are running around like a bunch of headless chickens is a result of my failure to control my own underling this early into our relationship.

"Absolutely-fucking-not!"

"But—!"

"No. No buts. There's literally a pile of Phantasmal body parts over there for you to play God with, just not the Blood. Analyze it, figure out practical applications, and leave it at that until further notice from me." After a brief moment of contemplation, I add just so there's no misunderstanding between us.

"Right…" The Homunculus pouts.

"I know you couldn't have possibly known this, but pouting doesn't look good on a dude."

"My face's based on the Great Justeaze though?"

"You still a dude." I cringe, purposefully taking a step back. Rolling his eyes, John gestures towards the basement. "Before you leave, do you want to check up on our dear detective?"

"Oswald's here?" I hadn't known that. "I thought he was being treated in Canada?"

"The damage to his Soul was minimal, but given how you reacted, I thought it prudent to bring the guy in for a more thorough check-up. It'll be easier to treat his injuries here."

"Is he doing well?"

Smiling sheepishly, John scratches the back of his head and replies.

"As well as can be? He does have a lot of trouble controlling his jaw and tongue movements, which causes involuntary drooling, but he'll be fine!"

He pauses for but a second, then mumbles under his breath, "I think?"

"So all we can do is pray for him?"

I mumble the question, thumb and index finger rubbing my eyelids as I bit back a foul curse.

I hate when already-borne fruits turn out spoiled…

Don't we all?

"I didn't know you were religious?" John tilts his head.

"It's called an expression… Seriously, what the fuck were they jamming in your brain?"

"Combat training mostly… I was a Combat Model, remember?"

The Homunculus admits.

"I'm currently trying to upgrade my brain implants to better process all the information Jubstacheit stored throughout the years. Have not moved on to human interactions yet. With what you brought me, the upgrades should come along nicely."

Knowing Jubstacheit, John's going to be hard-pressed to find that anywhere within a ten-mile radius.

"Anyway, keep an eye on Oswald for me, will you?"

"What about you?"

Heading for the exit, I wave and shout over my shoulder, "I'll go rally more people to our cause!"

Technology is the future, so I'll need to locate all the future CEOs, particularly Larry Page and Sergey Brin—the Founders of Google.

It just so happens the largest Search Engine on the planet

He who controls the flow of information controls the world.

I won't even have to run it directly.

Like BlackRock and Vanguard, I'll remain a shareholder, issuing orders from the shadows. Just the thought makes me giddy already.

But first, a trip back to Japan is in order.

For the second time today, I greet the workers managing the Germany Branch of Touko's Travel Agency, all of whom give me curious looks. "Lord Hangman?"

"That's me. Who's asking?"

"Some call me the 'Incinerating Light', but for you, I'm merely Mirael—standing regional manager for Europe Touko's Travel Agency. It's a pleasure to meet one of our most prospective clients."

Retrieving a shiny black card from her pocket, she hands it to me with both hands. "A gift from Lady Touko, Milord."

After inspecting it and finding nothing out of the ordinary except for the material itself, I hurriedly slip the card into my pocket. "I assume this means I'll get a discount on my next trip?"

The Witch, dressed in a form-fitting black dress with a deep slit to reveal her thighs, nods.

"It's 50% off every month. It does have a 10-times travel limit, but even as busy as you seem to be, I doubt you'll need more than that."

"Thank you. Tell your boss I'll buy her a pint one of these days."

Cherry-red lips two shades darker than her own scarlet hair puckered, Mirael grins. "Why, nothing for little ol' me?"

"Oh, here—" Putting a hundred in her outstretched hand, I smile. "Consider this tip for the good service."

Blinking rapidly, she chuckles, the oversized witch-hat on her head sliding off slightly as she mirrors my action earlier, pocketing the money that must be chump-change for somebody of her station. "Lady Touko also asked me to pass along a few words of advice."

"Shoot."

"She said if you're not confident in your combative ability, it's best you stay away from the Clock Tower for a while."

"Why?"

I scrunch my nose in confusion. "I've been registered in the Tower for less than a week. I don't recall making any enemy?"

The 'Minotaur' might hold a grudge for against me for breaking his horns, but that was clearly his fault.

"You made one the moment you agreed to marry Lady Barthomeloi."

"Oh…" So it's a 'Xianxia young master' situation? It's troublesome, but nothing I can't handle. "What, does her army of simps want my head now?"

"What are simps?"

"Shortened for simpletons," I explain, adding as an afterthought, "So, who's the unlucky bloke?"

"You're that confident?" Crossing her arms, Mirael gently taps her nails against her elbows.

"I don't think I can fight an army,"

Not yet anyway. "But a Magus or two? That, I can deal with."

"He's quite strong… And he's a Legacy."

"Whoever he is, I can promise you, I've faced worse."

"O'Connor Ua Duibhne—the Love Spot and Prince-Charming. He has quite the collection of admirers in the Tower, all of whom are praying for your downfall as well."

"Fantastic…" Typical. "Is my marriage to Lorelei public knowledge or something?"

"Oh? Reached that stage already, have you?"

"Just answer the question, please."

I groan seeing her teasing gaze.

"Even the Neutral has likely caught wind of it by now. Lady Barthomeloi is a rather prominent figure in our World. Lord Duibhne isn't the only you'll have to watch out for…"

Mirael cryptically says, a sly smile gracing her lips. "Did you know she once defeated a hundred Magi at once? They're vying for her hand in marriage, either for themselves or their children. None of them met her standards, so she challenged them all to a public duel and won without a single scratch. Even I wouldn't dare boast of such an accomplishment. I heard they were quite upset that she got married to a 'no-name upstart'—their words, not mine."

"… What are the chances I'll be facing down a few challengers myself?"

"It's not impossible, though I wouldn't say it's a certainty either. That was seven years ago… Some have married into other Houses since then, but there will be those who see your union with Lady Barthomeloi as an affront to their honor. Be careful, Lord Hangman."

Conversation having dwindled, we make our way to the Circle, where I'm given a broom-shaped Mystic Code.

If there's one aspect of Touko's magical transportation I can't stand, it's that I'm required to ride a broom. Sitting sideways looks feminine, while the seat—primarily made for women—is ridiculously narrow…

The damn thing hurts my balls in ways

"See you later, Lord Hangman."

"Just call me L—" Stilling my tongue, I correct. "Jasper… Jasper's fine. This whole 'Lord this, Lord that' is unnecessary."

"How about Sir Hangman? You look like a Sir."

"Please don't." I visibly cringe at the name as the ritualistic Circle beneath my feet begins to glow an ominous violet.

"I'll look forwards to your accomplishment."

The 'Incinirating Light' waves, magically yeeting me towards Tokyo since their Agency has not expanded to Fuyuki.

Although it sounds and looks quite violent from an outsider's perspective, it is in truth quite comfortable, the incredibly small seat asides.

'Should have submitted a feedback.'

— [Infinity] —

Somewhere to the east of Fuyuki, a mass of Crest Worms rests within a hole they've gnawed out with their teeth.

How the mighty have fallen…

They are much weaker than the fully matured swarm that preceded them, their minds more muddled, but no one ever claimed rebuilding would be easy.

Even as fragmented as they are, their thoughts are easily disrupted by the slightest, most insignificant distraction, they are still aware of two things: The need to feast and the desire for revenge.

Not even the near annihilation of their Soul can erase that face from their memory; the infuriating, smug grin worn by that little pest as he picked them off one by one. The thought sends the Worms into a frenzy as they burrow into the skin of the conscious human beneath them, who begs and pleads for merciful death, unfortunately Od is only produced when a Soul still inhabits the body, hence why the reason it has forced its victims to remain alive.

This batch won't last for much longer…

It'll have to—

"Wassup?"

The Crest Worms whirl around to find their hated enemy carrying a compass in one hand, and a… Sun(?) in another.

"Did somebody call for pest control? Or do I have the wrong address."

"H- HeLp~!" One of victims groans, hand weakly reaching for the 'Sun'.

They can barely even screech or respond when the miniature Star descends on them, atomizing both the swarm; their victims and the patch of dirt where they hide

"Guess I got the right address after all."