82: The Black-Silver-Haired Girl
"Hmm, then let me ask another question," Artoria said. "What is your relationship with the leader inside that building under construction?"
"I… if I had to say, I'm either his clone or his discarded self. Even if I look exactly the same as him, I'm just someone whose True Name was taken and whose power was more than halved."
"You say your True Name was taken… It's like splitting a Spirit Origin into good and evil sides. So the villain here completely stripped away his good side? That would explain the damage to your Spirit Origin," Da Vinci said in surprise. "If you recover your True Name, maybe your Spirit Origin can be restored too."
"Is that so… But would I really be the good side?" the mustached man said, not sounding convinced himself.
Shirou activated his Mystic Eyes to observe the identity of the unknown Servant.
Sure enough, the man's Spirit Origin was damaged.
As a Heroic Spirit, his state was also unique—more like two spiritual bodies fused together. One was the main consciousness, while the other was vague and conceptual… His weak point was—
"Wait! Hey kid, can you stop staring at me with those eyes that seem like they can see through everything?
If you keep looking like that, I feel like even my measurements and size are gonna be exposed!" The uncle bashfully lifted his coffin as a shield in front of himself.
"Ah, sorry. You were just too suspicious, I instinctively treated you like an enemy," Shirou quickly apologized after realizing.
"Huh? Suspicious? Master, do you see me that way too?" the uncle asked, looking wounded as he turned to Gudako.
"Very suspicious," Gudako replied honestly.
"Ah!!" The uncle collapsed to his knees, completely dejected.
"In times like these, why are you still worrying about that? You've been suspicious from start to finish," Da Vinci remarked sarcastically.
"In any case, my goal is to recover my True Name, repair my Spirit Origin, and serve you better. Is that okay, Master?" The uncle, pulling himself together, extended his hand to Gudako.
"I'd be happy to have you," Gudako said with a smile, taking his hand.
Thus, Shinjuku Archer officially joined the team.
Before the next wave of pursuers arrived, everyone quickly left Shinjuku Station and returned to the burger joint's underground hideout.
"Woof woof." Cavall II greeted the returning group at the entrance.
The uncle curiously approached, "Oho, such a friendly dog. Good boy—shake!"
The white dog turned its face away, ignoring him.
"Want some dog food? Here, it's delicious." The uncle offered a piece of kibble.
Smack!
The white dog slapped the food out of his hand with a paw.
"Is this dog… looking down on me?!" the uncle shouted in shock, standing up.
"Woof woof." The white dog gave him a scornful sideways glance.
"Looks like the household hierarchy has been established," Gudako nodded with arms crossed.
The king of the household—Artoria.
Shirou, responsible for all chores and daily needs.
Gudako, receiving care.
The trusty guard and mascot—Ca-all II.
And lastly, the suspicious uncle.
Just then, Shirou stood and said to the blonde girl, "I'm going out for a bit to scout the area. I'll leave things to you, Artoria."
"Shirou-senpai is heading out?" Gudako asked.
"Yeah. Ever since we arrived, I've sensed a strange presence that's been bothering me. I want to check it out," Shirou replied.
"I'll come too then," Gudako offered.
"No, you're already exhausted. Take a break here.
Don't worry—I can turn into a Servant when needed.
At the very least, I can run away," Shirou assured her.
"Alright. With Shinjuku Archer here now, I can't leave either," Gudako said. "Shirou seems strong, but be careful—there are a lot of magi, dolls, and Hornets here," Artoria warned.
"Got it. I've come prepared," Shirou said, projecting a cloak modeled after the Noble Phantasm of Perseus from legend, which had the effect of erasing sound and presence.
He draped it over himself.
Thanks to his Mystic Eyes, Shirou's projection magecraft had reached another level.
Even if the object wasn't a sword, he could recreate it flawlessly. While the cloak lacked transformation functions, it specialized in stealth and silence.
Unless the opponent was an extremely perceptive Servant or magical beast, he wouldn't be discovered.
The only restriction was that while wearing it, he couldn't use other Noble Phantasms—but it was still a powerful stealth item.
Just a few hours ago, Shirou was still reminiscing about walking these streets with the girls. But now, walking through the same place, all he could feel was a strong sense of wrongness.
As one of the busiest areas of an international metropolis, this place saw many foreign visitors—especially people from China.
At night, strange figures of all kinds roamed about—agents scouting for young actresses, foreign gangs, the Yakuza.
This place had once been the site of the infamous "Shinjuku Incident," a major criminal purge. While public order had improved since then, the area still bore the nickname "Black Temptation Street."
Kabukicho, known overseas as a sleepless entertainment district, was divided into Ichome (1st district) and Nichome (2nd district).
Kabukicho Ichome had many restaurants and entertainment businesses.
Kabukicho Nichome was full of host clubs, nightclubs, and love hotels.
It was practically a mini version of old Shanghai's foreign concessions, where White Russian aristocrats once fell from grace and failed local nobles flaunted power. All walks of life mixed here.
There were geisha who sold art but not sex, raised from a young age and trained in the traditional arts, who accompanied scholars and politicians in poetic, romantic encounters.
There were also hosts and hostesses who flattered customers into buying drinks, with love hotels glowing in pink and purple light all over.
As for Shinjuku Nichome, well—young men with special interests could check it out themselves at night.
Still, even in a chaotic neighborhood, it wasn't normal to see ghosts, ogres, and bandits roaming around.
Shirou frowned, observing how deeply the city had fallen.
Suddenly, a huge explosion rang out ahead, followed by blazing flames that engulfed the entire street. The searing heat from the firestorm could be felt even through his cloak.
It was a magical fire of hatred and fury.
Shirou once again felt that sensation—like facing a nemesis.
It reminded him of Perseus, who had once invaded this world.
A Heroic Spirit tainted by black mud.
From a shadowy alley scorched by the explosion, a black figure staggered forward, leaning on a flagpole for support.
It was a silver-haired girl clad in black armor.
Her snow-white face, once youthful and lovely, now looked haggard and exhausted. She stumbled and collapsed onto the ground.
"Damn it! That black archer bastard… he blasted off like a jet engine and escaped. Next time… I'll definitely… kill him," the girl cursed with gritted teeth.
She had gambled everything on one final attack, and now her mana was depleted. She didn't even have the strength to stand.
"I can't move at all anymore… whatever. Dying here is better than being burned alive.
Will I be drowned in a river? Or stripped and violated to death…?" she murmured weakly.
The girl didn't know anymore. Her voice was full of mockery—of the world, of herself.
Then, she closed her eyes as if giving up everything.
"Uh… I wouldn't do any of that, you know… Um, where do I even start with this?" Shirou, who had just arrived, overheard her words.
There was no one else around—it felt like she was talking directly to him, and he was left awkwardly unsure how to respond.