Wrought Iron Taimanin Chapter 2: Hell Knight (Patreon)

Beta read by GamerCrusher55 and Paragon of Awesomeness

Surprise! This was supposed to be a New Year update but i could not finish it in time... Still is kinda New Years still!

Happy New Years 2026!

As for the upcoming polls. Hm, I believe it would be best if I add like a short resume for each crossover idea. Like a teaser. Hard for people to judge which story they want if all they have is just the title. So yeah, do look out for that soon.

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-Demon Capital Tokyo-

The full moon bloomed across the night sky, its pale blue light washing over the city below in waves.

Edwin Black sat upon his seat comfortably, his blood-filled wineglass in hand as he allowed the moonlight’s glow to settle against his shoulders and tailored suit; barely illuminating his overall being. He did not smile at the view, keeping a stoic face while the roars of the crowd drowned all sound except for the clash of steel. Decades, centuries… all those years of preparation at last lay beyond and behind him, stretching so far back that the passage of time had lost meaning. It all meshed together until numbers themselves became irrelevant.

His attention returned to the woman before him. He watched her carefully from the beginning, his gaze never having left her not once. Pushed to her limits, so readily using her demonic transformation to cleave and kill everything that stood before her one by one, it was a beautiful sight to behold for him. Even Oboro laid there, dead after clashing with the transformed Asagi.

‘Pathetic woman,’ was the first thought that came to mind when summarizing everything about her. She had her uses, sure, but failure kept creeping up on her countless times to the point that he had grown to expect them.

‘Something is wrong.’

The thought resurfaced, uninvited, faint enough to treat it like nothing more than just paranoia, yet it remained persistent long enough for him that he almost felt the need to acknowledge it.

The ones who opposed Asagi had once been her sister and her dearest friend, fellow Taimanin who had shared her past. Black had revived them personally, restoring life back into their bodies that were once empty husks, as their former selves now gone, scraped clean and replaced with his own creations loyal to no one but him. Their possessed bodies would never disobey him, and with a single order to kill Asagi, he had set the stage and watched them from a short distance away, sipping on the blood. The excitement in his heart grew with each passing moment.

At last, every piece had fallen right where it was meant to be.

Over the past decade, Igawa Asagi had truly changed. Her growth was undeniable both in terms of beauty and strength, her resolve hardened by suffering; more so than any prior Taimanin he met. Even when forced to face those she once called family, she did not once falter, and in the end… Asagi laid them to rest with her own hands, and upon her bitter victory the arena grew quiet around her.

‘Something is wrong.’

The smirk that had rested on Black’s face faded for a brief moment, as an unfamiliar sensation settled in his chest, both dull and uncomfortable. It was not excitement or pleasure. It carried not an ounce of the thrill he wanted. It was simply wrong.

The vampire frowned, then dismissed it as that earlier smirk forced its way back into place. ‘No. Everything is proceeding perfectly. Just as it should.’

His confidence returned in full.

He recalled the earlier stages of the battle and found there was no fault in them or any reason for worry, so any claims of troubling feelings were meaningless. In her current demonic state, Asagi had surpassed the limits of the other Taimanin long ago. Even those wearing the bodies of her loved ones were unable to stand against her. Their defeat was inevitable, and just served as a tool to break her down further.

At the end, she stood surrounded by corpses.

He could see it clearly in her eyes several emotions, confusion and a steady descent into despair. One that had already taken hold, settling behind her gaze and shaping her thoughts — his plans were nearing completion. Anticipation rose again, joined by a quiet hunger at what she might yet become. Asagi was a rare existence, a woman with resolve that refused to collapse easily. That did not make her unbreakable, it simply meant the pressure had to be applied from the correct angle. Cracks had already formed, spreading across her sense of self.

The demon within her seeped through those fractures, distorting what remained. She was close now, closer than she most likely was willing to admit.

"BLAAAAAAACK!"

The moment an opening appeared, the woman lunged forward with a blade in hand towards him. Her demonic form propelled her forward with great speed untraceable to the human eye, her body cutting through the space between them. Hatred burned in her eyes, but her expression carried something else as well, a faint curve of her lips that suggested expectation for the fight rather than just fear and hatred. Perhaps she welcomed the challenge. Perhaps she just looked forward to having her revenge fulfilled, fully embracing such emotions down to her core. Regardless, he intended to show her.

"Urgh! Kill me…" She said, dropping the demonic sword to the ground.

His contempt filled face stared back with a raised eyebrow. “Has your warrior's spirit been weakened by bathing in the sea of humanity, Asagi? Death is too soft a punishment, no, instead, I should reward you for keeping yourself from reverting to your true self. Killing your friends mercilessly just to get to me, who you were before would have never taken such a path.”

Despite all the praise he held for her, despite his genuine interest in her growth, she was still beneath him. That difference became clear when his dark constructs lashed out like blades, striking at her shadow and mystically binding it in place. Pain tore through her body when a pain filled cry escaped her lips, coughing up blood with each new cut before one after another powerful attack struck its intended target. The force sent her crashing into the ground, stone and earth breaking beneath her impact. All the while the Daywalker adjusted his sleeve as if brushing away dust, his movements unhurried.

He stepped forward, his right hand shifting shape as flesh twisted into something more demonic. Enlarging with a dark tone and growing muscles tearing through the suit. Standing over her, he met her eyes directly. Even now, facing what should have been death, she remained defiant despite her previous words. Her breathing was heavy, her body strained, but her gaze did not waver.

It took a single motion.

His hand drove into her stomach, tearing through flesh. Blood gushed out from her front and back and filled the air and covered the ground, but none landed on him. Her eyes widened in shock as she choked out blood. He lifted his arm up and her slightly from the ground, her body hanging as life struggled to remain. Slowly, deliberately, her veins and flesh began to change. The dark constructs changed into almost a cloth material that started to encompass her like a cocoon with vein-like patterns spreading outward from the wound, mending and reshaping her body piece by piece. It crawled across her skin, binding itself to her, claiming more with every second.

"Hahahahahahahahaha!"

Black laughed openly, the sound carrying both satisfaction and genuine joy. The feeling surged through him, stronger than anything he had felt in years. And yet, beneath it all, that same unwanted sensation returned.

‘Something is wrong.’

There it came again, that feeling of dread but once more he ignored it, as he always had. He was untouchable in this moment.

"This has been a long road, Asagi," he said, his voice calm. "But now, you have become mine."

His words ended it all without warning.

Then it happened.

For a single second, he was still holding the woman, his arms driven through his own torso as flesh fused and pressure bound them together. It was only a matter of seconds until— “Hm?”

‘Something is definitely wrong…’

A sudden warm splash of red struck his face, followed by a dull, heavy thud that echoed too close to him. In one moment he was locked in place with the woman glaring up at him, her expression twisted with hatred and uncontrolled fury. In the next moment, the immortal vampire found himself staring at her body that no longer had a head.

"Eh?"

The corpse of the stubborn woman sagged completely, all resistance gone as blood began to leak freely. The forced merger between them stopped instantly, severed as if it had never existed. Her body slipped from his grasp and collapsed to the floor with no sound. For a moment he did not understand what he was seeing.

For some inexplicable reason, Black took a step back. A reaction not born out of fear of Asagi’s death but instead was a reaction born of his very body reacting to something else.

‘Am I… feeling… threatened?’

He had never done that before in the human world. Not against trained Taimanin, not against armed squads or any one of the demon lords, he was confident that he was mentally prepared for even if one time they all united against him. Yet now his feet moved without his command as he watched the lifeless body hit the ground.

Splash

A single footstep moving through blood sounded in the distance.

The surrounding noises that had filled the background like an echo vanished.

The shouting spectators, the lingering chaotic echoes of their thirst for entertainment, all of it faded as if it was swallowed whole by something. The bright arena dimmed and rotted away, replaced by a dark, hollow space where nothing existed beyond the corpse at his feet. A wide puddle of blood spread beneath him unrealistically large, stretching farther than his eyes could follow and sunk within the darkness around him ahead.

Splash

The same sound from earlier reached him through the silence. Slow footsteps. They echoed from every direction at once, yet clearly belonged to a single set, just one person. The sound pressed against his thoughts getting louder and louder, leaving no room to look away.

Ripples moved through the blood, barely noticeable at first, rolling toward his feet. Each time the sound reached him, his body responded by unconsciously retreating another step. ‘Why am I…’ He did not understand his own actions.

Splash

His muscles kept disobeying him and a feeling of coldness crept through his veins as sweat formed across his forehead. His breathing turned uneven, shallow and strained, as though the air itself had thickened.

Edwin grew furious, gritting his teeth and attempted to resist such ridiculous urges that should not have existed in the first place. In his efforts, a single line of memories flooded his mind and managed to clear away some of the sticky fog that had kept him from recognizing the feeling.

‘Oh… I remember now.’

The memory surfaced clearly.

Long before, back in a time when the world felt small enough to crush in his hand he was first introduced to this feeling. Aside from the other arrogant demon kings, no one had challenged him then nor had they shown any means to do so. Power had always come easily to him and strength had never been in question. In this world and countless others before it, he had always risen higher than the last, smarter, stronger, and closer to what he sought.

Then that… that thing appeared without warning.

“It's you…”

The darkness peeled away, revealing a scene torn straight from ruin. The grand arena was gone. The roaring crowd and the lights that once filled the space had vanished completely. In their place lay scorched bodies, twisted and burned, scattered across broken stones and collapsing rubble. Fire raged unchecked, climbing high into the sky as shattered walls crumbled into ash as smoke emerged into the atmosphere. Beyond them, the city lay destroyed, streets broken, buildings reduced to wreckage.

A common sight associated with a single individual. In the distance, that lone figure stood.

Only the lower half of his face could be seen, impossible to read, with pale strands of hair slipping loose and catching the firelight. He did not hurry nor did he falter. He simply walked forward.

"Stay… Stay away… Stay away! Take another step and I WILL KILL YOU!"

The words escaped Black’s mouth without any viciousness behind it, more breath than command. With every step the figure took, the unease tightened around him. His heart stumbled in his chest, missing beats as the sound grew closer. Each footstep sent faint ripples across the endless blood, spreading outward, untouched by the surrounding fire. The pool rose steadily until it brushed against his ankles.

"Stay away!"

Black shouted, forcing his powers to answer him. Rage surging in response to the presence ahead. Dark constructs formed around his body, shapes resembling blades, scythe and weapons of all kinds — the very same ones used against Asagi. With a swift gesture, he sent them flying forward, driven by the will to tear the figure apart.

Crack! Smash! Crack!

The result shattered his confidence.

The sound was like glass breaking. The constructs that had once torn through defenses and clashed with Taimanin weapons cracked apart on impact, breaking into fragments before they could reach their target. Even his own demonic weapons followed a similar fate, his spear, sword, scythe and even his demonic chakram; They fell uselessly into the blood, dissolving without leaving a mark.

Splash

"I refuse to believe this!"

He attacked again. And again. The growing sense of familiarity with this chain of events only grew stronger with every failure. No matter what power he called upon, no matter what creation or weapon he hurled forward, the outcome never changed. The figure continued to advance, untouched without even acknowledging most of them. Walking through one body after another, some of them he recognized.

He remembered now.

Every attempt. Every instance. Every weapon and warrior he had once relied on. They had all met the same end as Asagi. Bodies scattered across the ground, lifeless and discarded. The blood rose higher, thick enough to slightly slow his movements, nearing his knees. The fire intensified, twisting through the air and filling every space, moving as though it followed a will of its own.

“—?”

Another sensation occurred near his leg, another body amongst many floating behind him. This one with pink hair now drenched in crimson, “Ingrid…” Not just a single Ingrid, but several of the same woman floated around him. Bodies lay piled together, torsos torn open, holes burned or ripped straight through their chests — each having died a different way. Oboro was among them, her body ruined by a wound where her heart should have been, some burned to the point he could barely recognize them and others following a similar fate to Asagi as their organs and intestines spilled into the river of blood.

The latter lay not far from him, eyes open and staring right back at him. The Taimanin known as Sakura, Murasaki, Asuka, and others he recognized only too well were scattered across the growing mound limbs twisted at wrong angles, skin drained of warmth and life. Each corpse added to the heap beneath the man's path — all staring back at him.

Their eyes were truly the worst part as they somehow still fixed themselves on him. They stared as if they were aware, as if they could still see him standing there. The looks they carried felt mocking. The message was clear enough without any words…they wanted to watch him join them soon.

“Pathetic fools!”

Rage spread across his skin, rising along his arms and down his spine. His eyes stayed locked on the entity’s raised hand.

It held no single weapon, yet it carried many at once. The shape refused to stay the same for more than a moment. A sword formed, then blurred into a spear, then thickened into a great sword before shifting again into that of a beautiful crystalline seven petal pink flower. Each change happened whenever he blinked or looked away, as if the thing reacted to his attention. Every form was soaked in blood, old and fresh layered together.

Nothing he had done mattered.

He had sacrificed entire cities to build traps meant to erase anything that walked into them. Having raised armies numbering in the tens of thousands, each soldier, enhanced by his own power until they barely resembled humans. He had torn apart the land itself, split mountains, and flooded regions just to slow everything that stood against him down. He had gathered every bomb capable of wiping cities off the map and detonated them directly in the path of his enemies. But against him each time, the result was the same.

The sound of footsteps followed. The hooded figure kept moving forward without a single visible injury.

"Raaah!"

No matter where he went to gather his resources and come up with another plan, the thing always found him. It was as if it was tied to his existence, bound to him in a way that he could not escape. Within the pool of blood, dozens of strides were made in a single second, hoping to move faster than the creature itself, yet the distance between them kept shrinking. Wings flapped with all their might but the very air felt like it had turned into glue, keeping him in place like a bug trapped in a spider’s web.

The world around him dulled by the second. What should have been quick movement turned heavy and slow, each step demanding more effort than the last.

Blood pooled beneath his feet, climbing higher with every movement. It reached his knees, then his thighs, dragging at his legs. Soon it brushed his waist, threatening to pull him under. Black spread his wings once more and forced himself into the air, beating them hard to gain speed. Every time he glanced back, the figure was closer. The shifting weapons caught the dim light and reflected it across his face. It moved like a hunter that did not rush, content to wear its prey down until there was nothing left.

“You…!”

When was the last time he felt this amount of rage? Never.

That was what it wanted wasn’t it. Not a quick end. It was playing with him. Torturing him for reasons he could not understand. They had never met before this. There was no history, no shared past. Yet he enjoyed doing this to him… Edwin was certain of it.

"Why should I be scared of you!?" he shouted. "Edwin Black knows no fear! I am no mere vampire! I am a god. You hear me!? I am a god!"

The words echoed weakly. He did not know if it understood him. He did not know if it even cared. Those questions had followed him for years, and now they surfaced again as the distance between them nearly vanished.

Cold steel tore through his body then and there.

The sensation was immediate. It felt like standing before death itself, a clean and final judgment cutting through him. His right arm went numb. He watched it fall away from his body, tumbling down into the sea of blood below. It disappeared without a sound, swallowed whole.

‘Why…do I feel so weak? This doesn't make any sense…this… this can't be real…’

Questions piled up, one after another, each more frightening than the last. His body refused to respond. The blood around him thickened, congealing into something solid, wrapping around his legs and waist like a living prison. Invisible pressure held him in place, dragging him down as his strength drained away with every second.

"No!" he shouted. "You will not look down on me, whatever you are called. I am not weak!"

He forced his form to shift once more, ignoring the danger screaming in his mind. He threw aside caution, pushing past the warning that told him to stop. He gathered everything he had left, every remaining scrap of power, intent on unleashing it all at once.

The world froze.

Less than an inch from his face, so close he could feel it, a weapon hovered. It was different from the others. Its presence pressed into him, heavier than anything before. His body locked in place, unable to move or react.

He could not stop it.

The weapon tore into his flesh until…

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“Gaaah! Hah… Hah!”

Black eyes snapped open as a tall, lean figure jolted upright from the bed in a single motion. His back arched as breath dragged into his lungs, uneven at first, then steadier as the room came into focus. Sweat clung to his skin and dampened the sheets beneath him, the fabric twisted from his restless movement. For several seconds, all he could hear was the erratic rhythm of his own heart pounding against his ribs as if it were beating inside his skull.

“This is… oh.”

It took time for awareness to return.

The ceiling above him was unfamiliar only for a moment before memories settled back into place. His hand rose to his face, fingers pressing against his brow as a bitter expression pulled at his features. The skin beneath his palm was intact, no scars, free of cuts or lingering damage. There was no pain, except for a faint echo of it, phantom traces of sliced flesh and burned nerves which went away after he massaged his forehead. The stench of blood that had filled his senses before was gone. In its place lingered the faint fragrance of sandalwood mixed with stale cigar smoke left over from the night before, clinging to the air and the furniture alike.

He exhaled slowly. The tension in his shoulders eased as he sat there, taking a few minutes for himself. His eyes closed, then opened again, the earlier panic fully gone.

His expression settled into something neutral as calmness spread through his nerves, almost putting on a stoic face. Without a word, the old immortal vampire swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood.

Only then did he acknowledge the rest of the room. Several women lay scattered on the far side of the bed and across the floor, bodies limp and unmoving at first glance. A closer look showed faint rises and falls of their chests.

They were alive, barely, their skin pale from being drained. Normally, he would not have bothered with any sort of restraint or consideration, but last night had been different. His mind had not been fully present, pulled in too many directions at once. Recovery had been interrupted by company matters, persistent politicians, and overall stress he could not completely ignore.

Edwin walked toward the table near the wall and pressed a button on the landline. With a dry voice he ordered, “Send in the cleanup crew. I want my room spotless in the next ten minutes.”

“Yes, Black-sama!” came the reply from the other end, a woman’s voice. He had no doubt the order would be followed to the letter, and likely exceeded. That was simply how she worked, always eager to prove herself, always seeking his approval. It did not bother him.

Turning away, he entered the bathroom.

The lights flicked on, revealing a wide mirror that stretched across the wall above the counter. The sound of running water filled the space as he leaned forward, splashing cold water onto his face. The chill cut through the last remnants of drowsiness, leaving him more awake than he had felt moments ago. Droplets ran down his jaw and dripped into the sink as he straightened.

He glared at his reflection.

Tiredness stared back at him, unmistakable despite the rest he had taken. Dark circles sat beneath his eyes, and the usual confidence they showed was absent from his expression. Paler skin than usual and even his overall body felt… drained. “Tch, still not enough, huh. I shouldn't have used it so soon last time…” His features were still refined, handsome even, but the strain was there for anyone willing to look closely. His gaze shifted downward, drawn to the empty space on the right side of his body.

“Is this really me?” he murmured.

A brief, pained look crossed his face as his remaining hand moved to the spot where his arm should have been. The sensation was not as intense as it had once been, but it had not vanished either. The lingering phantom pain remained, his mind stubbornly insisting that the limb was still there. It left him unsettled every time.

Such faults should not have been a possibility for one who possessed immortality. The wound just stretched beyond that of just being something physical.

Reaching for the metal prosthetic resting on the counter, Edwin lifted it and brought it into place. Soft mechanical clicks followed as the clamps secured themselves, the weight settling against him and his balance came back, as his nerves reattached to the artificial ones. The discomfort eased, not gone entirely, but dulled enough to be manageable. It felt close enough to having his hand back, close enough to function.

His eyes returned to the mirror, and a quiet chuckle escaped him. “You really did a good job, Sabato.”

The scientist always had plans moving through his mind, whether they involved his own experiments or ideas he stored away for the future. That constant planning was what made him useful, and because of that usefulness, Black kept him close instead of disposing of him like so many others. The sense of satisfaction that came with that decision lingered only briefly before irritation returned, when he noticed the empty space where his real arm should have been. The absence annoyed him far more than it should have. It was a reminder, a personal insult tied to a single figure he refused to forget.

“All because of you,” he muttered under his breath, staring at his reflection. “I will kill you. One way or another, I will make you suffer, and I will make it last for eternity…”

The image of the tall person, a man he was mostly certain about this time, surfaced again, just as it always did. A hood concealed the face, hiding whatever expression lay beneath it, yet the shape of that body, the posture, and the lack of any discernable emotions had been burned into his memory. Black could almost see him standing behind him, close enough to fog the mirror, watching in silence. The thought alone made his jaw tighten.

“Rargh!”

Crash!

A loud crack filled the bathroom as his fist slammed into the mirror. Glass burst outward, fragments scattering across the floor and into the sink. The point of impact caved inward, leaving a rough crater where the reflection of that hidden face had been. The lights overhead flickered once, twice, then steadied again, humming softly as if nothing had happened. Black drew in a breath through his teeth, then let it out slowly, bracing his hands against the counter.

He had lost count of how many times this had happened. Losing control came easier than it used to, even after the blood he had consumed the day before to regain his strength. It should have helped him relax, should have dulled the edge, yet the knowledge that the man could reappear at any place and at any time made rest feel hollow.

The vampire still remembered their first encounter, though he had not actually seen him then.

What he remembered were the explosions, one after another, tearing through the area and forcing him to reset reality for such a level of destruction that made no sense in its destruction as it ruined all of his plans. That time, he had now assumed was the beginning of that man's arrival. The second meeting was different. That was when he saw him in person for the first time.

Recalling as he mocked him, asking questions that received no answers; that confrontation ended poorly. In an instant, countless strange swords appeared around him, suspended in the air. Several struck his gravity barrier on impact, managing to damage it enough to surprise him and even wound him for a bit till he eventually regenerated.

During those early battles, fear never truly set in. There was no sense of dread, only curiosity. Black wanted to know who this enemy was, which Taimanin group or government-backed organization had decided he was worth eliminating. The idea that the man might be an enhanced Taimanin super soldier crossed his mind during their second encounter, but he had never confirmed it. Even now, he was unsure what the man truly was… a human, demon, or something else like a homunculus, the answer remained out of reach.

It wasn't until the third time did it finally start to set into his mind that he was dealing with none of what he initially believed.

No, rather it was the moment that man had used a particular curved weapon to cut off his arm in such a way that it never managed to grow back even now. Having even forgotten which reset this happened. That served as the final nail in the coffin to instill in him a genuine possibility of true death.

“Black-sama…” a woman’s voice called from outside the bathroom, interrupting his train of thoughts.

He did not turn. He did not need to. “Have you finished the task I gave you?” asked the vampire, his tone steady as he resumed his routine, washing the glass from his knuckles and pushing the memories aside as he stared at her reflection in the shattered glass mirror.

Behind him stood a tanned woman in a fitted suit that barely covered much. Cleavage on full display with traces of her black lingerie visible, a short mini skirt and fishnets covering both legs, long pink hair tied neatly into a secretary bun. Ingreed held a clipboard and tablet close to her chest as she nodded.

“…”

As Black glanced at her reflection through what remained of the mirror, unwanted images surfaced. He remembered her head lying in a pool of blood in another timeline. He imagined her body pierced clean through by a projectile, a hole left where her chest had been. Her getting cut down before she could react, torn apart by an explosion, and several other deaths were at some point details he no longer bothered to catalogue.

Ingrid always followed the same path across resets, just as she always returned to his side. He trusted her enough to assign her a mission he ranked above most others.

“Yes,” she replied. “We have increased surveillance around Nomad headquarters and several sections of the town. However, there has been resistance downtown and in the slums. A number of our pre-installed units were damaged, stolen, or taken apart.”

“A bunch of fools,” Black mumbled in dismay, rubbing his temple with two fingers. The report matched his expectations. “Continue with the plan. If they become too much of a problem, erase them. I have no interest in maintaining anonymity of our involvement right now, and I am not in the mood to entertain resistance.”

“As you wish,” Ingrid answered. “I will handle it myself this time, these idiots cannot do their job properly so best I take over instead and get it done within a day.”

"No," he said, the word delivered plainly as he frowned. "Leave this matter to Oboro.”

“W-What?” Taken aback by his choice of person, Ingrid visibly found herself taken aback. “I-I dare not to question your orders, but that woman has a habit of letting her emotions take over her sense of duty. S-she is still in the midst of tracking down Asagi Ig—”

“—Enough.” The man whispered harshly, his irritation visibly causing the woman to freeze up in her spot. “I do not need to repeat myself. Oboro is more experienced with such matters, simple as that. Also, I have other tasks to give you. Continue your report." That was all he offered before returning to his routine.

He studied his own reflection while holding a shard of mirror between his fingers. The deep bags under his eyes were no longer as visible as before, and his white hair was combed back into its usual style.

Only for a frown to appear upon seeing the face upon the reflection before changing up the style a bit. Some of his confidence had returned, and the lingering effects of those dreaded nightmares had lessened enough to be manageable. They were not fully gone, but Black had learned how to live with something that continuously kept coming back as part of his daily life as an immortal.

"As for your second task," his Hell Knight continued, "we managed to recreate the portrait of this individual you have described and have sent the copies to all our branches. Unfortunately, without any clear details of his face, we have yet to find him. I plan to lead a team to scour every location personally and come back with results before the end of this month." She stepped closer and presented a portrait, holding it carefully so he could see.

The man in the image was the same figure who had appeared in his nightmare, the same presence that continued to haunt his life. The outline of the body and the heavy cape matched what he remembered from previous resets. Even though the image showed very little, there was enough to stir old memories. Black hesitated, his gaze lingering longer than he intended.

"Keep this one on hold for a bit longer," he said quietly. "I know you will not find him, so best not to waste any valuable time." That was his conclusion, though two more reasons weighed behind it. If this entity were to see posters or records of himself, history might repeat itself, and the city could once again be bombarded before he had time to recover and prepare. He couldn't afford to be as reckless anymore, getting tired of having to start over again and again so frequently himself. The thought alone was enough to make him more cautious than before.

The second reason being more simple, he just wished to avoid her dying so needlessly again and again. At the end of the day, she remained a friend of his rather than a subordinate and differed from the likes of Oboro who was more easily expendable.

"Bl-Black-sama…" the pink haired woman was once again taken aback. What resembled the closest to disbelief then molded with sadness before she lowered her head; strands of hair obscuring her eyes. “As… as you wish.”

The quivering in her voice could not be hidden, he did not care. She never managed to find him before, what would change this time? Nothing. In many cases she was the first one to die, a renowned Hell Knight not even lasting a minute; what a joke.

"…You have more on your mind. Speak," he said after a pause.

"Just… who, um, just who is this person?" she asked, hesitating before continuing. "I did not mean to overstep my bounds or question you, but my curiosity got the better of me. If I had more details, I could use my connections to find him more easily…"

Still trying to insist on continuing the search on her own, what a stubborn woman. Black let out a short chuckle. "Is that so?"

"I do not know who this person is," she replied, her tone firm, "but if he is an enemy, then I will deal with him swiftly. You can count on me. I made an oath to be your sword and shield! You can trust me on that!"

"I know you will always try your best, Ingrid, I really do. It is not just a matter of your skillsets nor the fear of failure mind you on this matter. But my judgement remains the same. Do not bother," he answered. "It never worked in any of those past instances. You would only be walking to your tomb without my permission."

She clearly wanted to say more, but she held herself back. There was always the possibility that this individual would resurface again out of nowhere and begin tearing the city apart. Ingrid's method would be too noticeable compared to Oboro, since she had even succeeded in finding him early on in the past. Black refused to admit defeat. Whatever that thing was, no matter how powerful or how strange his abilities were, he was not invulnerable. He was no godlike being, and Black refused to even entertain that idea. There had to be a way to kill him once and for all. The method existed somewhere, and he intended to find it while keeping watch for any sign of his return.

“You are dismissed. Please, do not bother me anymore, unless it's for important matters. Also, make sure to increase the number of women to join me for the night, the last batch proved themselves to be barely sufficient.”

“…Yes.” Ingrid bowed before leaving the room, giving him one last glance and then walking out of the door.

“Ingrid,” right as she was about to leave, her name got called and she looked back with renewed hope. “Keep your head down around town, let the lowlifes deal with their task instead and don't get involved unless you absolutely need to.”

“…”

She said nothing, merely staring at his back for several seconds until the sound of her high heels tapping as she walked away reached him. Ingrid was many things, loyal to the core and always willing to go the extra mile for him. But this time, if possible, it would be better if she stayed alive for a bit longer than before.

"He has not attacked so far," Black said at last. "So maybe he is not here yet?" He disliked how his voice carried something close to genuine hope instead of the caution he preferred.

Regardless of his true emotions, this meant he had actual rare given time to prepare unlike previous instances. And that was a gift he would not deny, giving him the chance to recover and build up his forces and possibly find a permanent solution once and for all.

“The human world has nothing to offer. Maybe I'll find something in the Demon Realm.”

For now, Ingrid just needed to stay away from possibly running across that man.

{Break}

‘What am I doing wrong?’

Walking outside Black’s residence, Ingrid could not stop herself from letting out a quiet, disappointed sigh as such depressing ideas stormed within her mind. The sound escaped before she could rein it in, carrying with it a mix of frustration and uncertainty that had been weighing on her for days. Her high heels slowed against the marbled path, her shoulders tense as she replayed the failed meeting in her mind and wondered what else she could possibly do at this point.

‘He is keeping a secret from me, that much is clear and whatever it is, it's responsible for his current state. Why can't you just lean on me more? Have I not proven myself enough by now?’ He never lied to her, but keeping her in the dark so much felt equally as painful. Worst of all, somehow it felt like he trusted that damned bitch to get tasks done lately.

And of course, speak of the devil and they shall appear.

“Just by looking at your face, I take it you failed again. Come on, that was the expected outcome.”

The mocking voice came from the lounge nearby. Ingrid turned her head, eyes narrowing as she spotted the purple-haired woman lounging comfortably, arms relaxed and a smug smile resting on her lips. Still wearing her red v-cut latex body suit that showcased her cleavage all the way to her stomach, shoulder pads and arm vanbraces; she rarely ever saw her in anything more… elegant. Oboro met her glare without the slightest hint of concern, clearly enjoying the reaction she had provoked.

“Not the time, Oboro,” Ingrid replied, her tone clipped. “Shouldn’t you be focused on the task assigned to you by Black-sama?”

“Oh my~! I came all the way here just to inform Black-sama that everything is going as planned. You see, I already caught an interesting little toy and he is about to help me capture a former…Hmmm, acquaintance of mine. I just came here to pass him on the good news so I could get going with the final step. Everything is going as planned,” Oboro said calmly, waving the concern away.

Ingrid recalled this mission being related to capturing Asagi Igawa. What this ‘toy’ insinuated was, she had no idea nor did she wish to know. Her methods were despicable and unworthy of one who wished to stand by Edwin's side.

“You don’t need to worry about me completing my task anymore. Instead, I should be the one worrying here. It doesn’t seem like you’ve been doing your job properly these past few months. Aren’t you supposed to be his bodyguard?”

The Hell Knight stiffened at that. The words struck a nerve she could not easily deflect. It was no secret to many higher-ups, Oboro included, that their leader had been acting differently, his decisions harder to predict and his presence more distant than before. The missing arm, left unrecovered by either choice or limitation with no explanation, only added to the unease that lingered among them. All of it pressed heavily on her sense of duty.

When did that even happen? No amount of asking or begging from him the answer she needed. The only suspects possible could have been another Demon Lord or ‘This one.’ She stared at the person in the image once described by Black himself, one that he put a lot of emphasis on tracking and out of nowhere now removed her from his search. ‘There are rumors of Demon Lords coming to the human world disguised as civilians. The Incubus King has been attached to similar rumours but no proof has been found yet. Could this one also be one of them?’

Her fingers curled into a tight fist. “I am more than willing to lay my life on the line for him,” Ingrid said, meeting Oboro’s gaze without backing down.

“And so am I,” Oboro replied coolly. “You are not unique in that regard. It is only a matter of time before he realizes this and decides to demote you into something more reasonable. Clearly, I am the better choice to be his and his alone for all eternity~!”

The words barely finished leaving her mouth before a sudden flash of light filled her vision. Oboro froze as she felt cold steel resting against her neck. Ingrid stood before her, blade drawn, killing intent bore down without a single word needing to be said.

“Go ahead, kill me if you dare,” taunted the purple haired traitor Taimanin with a smirk on her face.

…No, losing her cool right now would serve no good but would just make herself look worse in Black's eyes. Oboro wanted that to happen and she would not give her that satisfaction whatsoever. So, pulling back her sword, she left the area immediately rather than spending another second close to this individual.

Hearing that woman's scoff, she went back to her office with more questions than answers. Sadly, not even able to take a sip of her morning coffee did her phone ring, not the one only connected to the Black's room, but the other one that connected her to every other employee under her command.

Entertaining the idea to just ignore it, Ingrid ended up scolding herself cursing at that train of thinking and immediately answered it. “Speak.”

“B-Boss! We… a-ah, we found another one!”

Her day just had to get more stressful than it already was.

…

(An hour later)

-Demon Capital Tokyo, Downtown-

Recently, a number of groups associated with Nomad kept getting killed or going radio silent with none of their members ever to be found.

Not that surprising given the nature of this place, there was even a minimum number of casualties they expected to find each year over here. But lately, there were just too many of them and they kept having more and more losses at least once a week by now. Or rather, that number jumped to twice a week with this incident, to the point where it would even affect business.

“Just like last time, the entire fucking safe got emptied out. Bastard stole whatever cash we gave these fuckers.” An old man, covered in dirt and dirty clothes answered to the beautiful tanned woman next to him, spitting on the ground with a look of anger while occasionally stealing a glance at her. “Before you ask, yeah, it appears one of the guys went missing along with several records we kept of our clients in this region. Can't figure out what's even the point of collecting such a thing, it's useless to be sold on any market.”

Ingrid agreed, looking down at the handful of corpses. Each one of them having died from several different wounds, bullets holes on some and gashes on the others. It became hard to figure out if this was the work of a single person or several with the different methods of combat. So either multiple, or a single individual skilled in multiple practices.

The motive behind it was also quite dubious, if it had been just stealing money like all the gangs around these parts, none of the records would have been missing. In fact, several previous cases also had similar things stolen. Sometimes there were even signs of an interrogation to one of the people before they were eventually killed off like the rest.

"This information gathering and hit-and-run tactics remind me of Taimanin.”

“I tell ya, boss. This stinks of Fanged Tiger.”

“Who?” She never heard of that name before.

“A rival gang, connected with the Chinese! I tell ya, this has their name printed all over the walls.” If by that he meant some of the blood splatters that didn't seem very eye-catching in terms of clues to find out the one responsible, then… maybe?

“I'll keep that in mind,” so she said, though truthfully she doubted that was the case. All in all, they remained mostly stuck on guesses without anything concrete and that annoyed her. If word of this got out to others… she could already imagine the taunting from that violet haired bitch getting more unbearable. Worst of all, after a quick search of the name on her tablet, the gang itself revealed itself to be under the control of Shin Yamazaki.

Someone she knew would never go against Nomad.

“Clean this up for now, we shall send replacements soon enough.” The place stank of iron and rot, not exactly enjoyable or relaxing for the already overwhelmed Hell Knight. Quietly, she handed over an envelope to the old man, opening the content to reveal a stack of cash which immediately made his eyes shine like a maiden in love.

“!!…Always a pleasure working for you, boss!” the old man shouted then proceeding to give her a deep respectful bow. Of course, Ingrid did not buy his act for a second. People in this part of town were opportunistic snakes, a single sign of weakness and they would bite the hand that fed them.

Soon, she dismissed herself from the scene and headed outside, the morning sky fully clear with not a cloud in sight and with the clock soon hitting noon; the woman found herself both tired and thirsty. Having skipped breakfast just to rush here, she was not in her best form. “I should have insisted on handling the surveillance system in these parts. We could have prevented these losses much earlier and caught the perpetrator.”

Just standing there made it clear this place was filled with lowlifes of all sorts. As she made her way back to her car and started to drive away, the vehicle soon came to a stop when she passed by a rather unusual place that stood out like a sore thumb in this part of town. Curiosity took over and she slowly reversed her car, enough to finally see a clean cafe with a vast amount of flowers used as decorations and a wooden sign above with the words, ‘Copenhagen.’

“Eh? Was this here last time?” Granted, it was not every day she came over here, but Ingrid still remembered taking this street two months ago and there being no such store around. In fact, it was literally a rundown storage room filled with rats and a stench of sewage filling the area.

Now with her windows down, she instead smelled the wonderful fragrance of coffee that immediately caught her attention.

At that moment, her stomach growled in protest.

{Break}

“Order number 56 on the counter.”

“Here, here~!”

The atmosphere within the cafe proved itself to be the complete opposite of the outside.

Emiya hummed to himself while tossing the pan filled with a variety of vegetables and rice into the air, before catching it as it sizzled. While Sakura came over to the kitchen to grab the two cups of coffee and a glass of mango juice he freshly made.

To run a successful cafe, having one or two savory dishes was a musth— even if it was not the main attraction. Then again, there was nothing more simple than omurice served by a beautiful maid, so he figured that was more than enough.

“The place is a bit empty today, hm.” commented the man to no one in particular, figuring it had to do with the incident that happened not that far away. ‘It was a last minute decision. I should have kept it more silent. Sigh… What’s done is done.’

For now, he had two goals that did not involve eliminating his target. Or rather, it helped him get to that goal. First, gathering intel on both Nomad activity and whatever he could find out about Black himself. Secondly, to understand this world a bit more. For someone who had been here for so long after so many resets, he never actually tried to gather much information. There was no need, since most times he would appear in the same city as Black and be given his target's last location immediately before his deployment.

Even without that, that man was quite consistent on where he would be at.

The first thing he’d learned from his investigation was the existence of Nomad being run by his very target. Then came everything else about his subordinates, the demons and where they came from the demon realm which he needed to collect more intel on. Then he found out about the organization of mixed-bloods between them and humans that actively worked to stop their corruption; the secretive existence of Taimanin that fought against demonic forces all over the world. The not so silent war going on between both sides was at the forefront, among much more of other things he had learned.

Of course, just this was not enough intel, but he could not get anything more detailed from small gangs around these parts. But maybe he could buy the information from the back market or exchange what he found for something more interesting to him.

One piece of information he learned that caught his attention was Black not being the only ‘King’, as there were apparently nine of them among demonkind, and each one ruled their own circle of the demon realm. The latest name he came to learn happened to be one that was known as the Incubus King who was rumoured to be in the human realm in disguise.

Still, this information did not feel that important at the end of the day. They were not his targets, and finding those who could keep track of Black's current location turned out to be a challenge in itself. That man just kept moving around too much, not staying in one place for too long.

Then he tried to find other sorts of intel where he could. With the appearance of Igawa Sakura to work at his new cafe changing things compared to how they were in the past loops along with Asagi’s introduction, it would seem he would have to make some adjustments. Both women should have never even crossed paths with him, much less for one of them to be working his day job several times a week.

“What are you thinking about with that heavy frown on your face? It's going to scare away some of the clientele.” Sakura's voice sounded from behind, almost sounding like she was chastising him while shaking her head. “You need to smile more, turn that frown upside down and make the ladies swoon. Like this, smile~!” Her fingers touched the corners of his mouth and pushed his lips upwards into a forceful smile while his eyes remained dry as they could be.

She had the same name as someone else he knew, but the two had polar opposite personalities.

“I don't need to smile, you are doing more than enough of that job already and I pay you well enough for it,” he said, leaning away slightly and going back to work on his next order of coffee. “It's working out quite well already.”

"Mmmm, mmmm, praise me more.” Sakura said while leaning against the counter, staring at him with a wide dopey grin.

“You make a surprisingly great waitress; the customers love you. Some a bit too much, but you know how to handle them before they might end up getting a bit too handsy with you.” He was not even exaggerating, people in this part of the city had a tendency to try and grope this girl's butt or chest at the slightest opportunity, yet she handled every case of harassment on her own, with his only involvement being to raise his voice to notify the harasser that they would be banned if they caused his employee trouble, as Copenhagen Cafe wasn’t that kind of establishment. “Still, I can't exactly fully blame them for feeling tempted, given the kind of clothing you're wearing, which was entirely your decision for some reason. You practically show off everything underneath just by bending a little. Actually come to think of it, I think you’re just as culpable, in a way.”

“Like this?” Sakura did exactly as he mentioned, turning around to pick up a napkin she’d dropped, and fully exposing her panty-covered heart-shaped bottom to him.

“...”

She was doing so to get a reaction out of him, it couldn't be any more obvious.

“Hahaha, your face is so funny, boss.”

Definitely teasing him for some stupid reason he had yet to even slightly comprehend.

“In any case, you performed quite an impressive magic trick on my sister yesterday. She didn't seem like herself that morning and was quite out of it, like her mind was busy somewhere else. But after a quick stop at the cafe, she went back to her usual cheerful self and stayed that way even when I saw her this morning. So thank you, even if you say it wasn’t because of you, it was for me.” She said it so earnestly that Emiya felt a growing sense of guilt. He had accommodated that woman with ulterior motives as he would have done any other customer, while also trying to figure out why she came there in the first place.

He wondered how Sakura would treat him if she were ever to find out the truth. About how many times he killed that person she cherished so much and her too. This cheerful face would be replaced with pure hatred — he could see that happening. It was a morbid way of thinking given he was not particularly trying to target her during those previous resets, most times doing it out of necessity since his target just happened to be in the same area.

During other cases, a small part of him considered his actions at the time as an act of mercy, the kinds of torture she went through, from just a single glance he figured they were not something one could recover from so easily… or ever.

He looked at the blonde girl before him, remembering how many times she was also there, suffering a similar fate. Seeing the sheer difference of those instances and the cheerful version in front of her… Emiya preferred to not dwell on such thoughts too long.

‘You can't save everyone. But perhaps eliminating the source of such a future could help to avoid that outcome.’ He wondered if he was actually being genuine or these were just excuses he was coming up for himself. That young girl in the arena was no regular civilian, she was a Taimanin…

Continuing to walk that path never seemed to turn out great for anyone involved regardless of the timeline Black reset the world to. Emiya’s hand moved and in the next second, they found themselves resting upon her head, much to her surprise as she stared at him with wide eyes. Mouth hung open, almost in disbelief at his actions, which made him chuckle as he ruffled her hair. Quite rare to catch her off guard like this.

“Thanks for helping me out at the shop too, Sakura. Though I do not wish that you focus too much on your work here instead of putting more attention on your regular life. It’s way better doing that, rather than doing anything too dangerous like hanging around such people. Still this place is a welcome breath of fresh air compared to the rest of the world, thanks to you.” He meant every single one of those words as the young girl just stood there for a while and then lowered her head just enough for her hair to hide her eyes.

“I don't mind working here for a long while, hanging around you is not going to put me in any danger you know.”

“That's not what I meant,” he argued softly.

“I know what you meant, and I want to tell you that I can take care of myself. I'm stronger than you think. It may not look like it but I can seriously kick people's asses if they cross the line. I can even keep you safe if one of these people gets a bit too rowdy.” Her cheeks puffed cutely, an amusing sight but he figured it wouldn't have been so easy to convince her otherwise.

Despite that, he needed to try.

So he just smiled, “You really are quite stubborn. Still, thank you, Sakura.” Keeping an eye on her would not be that hard, he wasn't trying to save her since she was not in any danger yet. In a way, Emiya hoped to steer her away at best.

“Better get used to it. You won't get rid of me so easily, I practically co-own this place.” She joked before her smile turned into a look of uncertainty. “Um, hey, Emiya. I know this may sound quite sudden, but are you free tomorrow or even next week?”

“Oh?” For her to use his name like that, he figured she was being serious and shook his head. Aside from reading through the documents he gathered and cleaning up the place a bit, there was nothing much to do later yet.

His response got a white smile from the girl who practically bounced in place, “Great! Cause I wanted to thank you for taking me in and letting me work around the place. So… I figured I’d repay the favor by inviting you to dinner at my house? A-Ah, my sister will also be there and Kyousuke! So it won't be weird, I swear!”

Ah… that was going to be a bit troublesome. He did not have any plans to get any further involved with these two. But he could not deny that Asagi always found herself facing Black one way or another, so completely turning a blind eye towards her would not be wise.

Just as he was about to give her an answer, a sound distracted both of them.

Ring!

The door bell rang, a new customer walked in and his attention turned towards the newcomer. “—!” Only to freeze ever so slightly upon seeing who it was. Pink hair tied in a bun unlike every single time she kept them loose, wearing a suit rather than her red armor and carrying a small purse instead of her sword. He knew this person very well in fact as she was always there present by his target side. Willingly using herself as a shield and always being the first one to attack him before he dealt with her just like the rest.

‘Again, another change.’ He cursed his luck, especially when realized that this woman was looking at him for quite a while. Had she recognized his face? Impossible, if this did not happen with Sakura and Asagi — then the same would also be true with Ingrid.

If she had indeed recognized him, then his sole option would be to kill her right now or silence her one way or another. For she presented too big of a risk, potentially telling Black of his existence and restarting this entire thing once again. But he also could not assume that based on paranoia alone, so taking a deep breath first, Emiya welcomed her and played off his earlier reaction with a single line.

“Welcome to Copenhagen. It's not everyday my store gets a beautiful customer like you walking in.”

“Hey, I'm still here!” Sakura shouted from the side, glaring at him for a bit, pissed at him before going to clean up a table on the other side.

On the other side, his words finally reached Ingrid, jolting her out of her stupor. She shook her head once, then walked to the counter with a quiet nod of acknowledgment. Just from her reaction alone, or rather the lack of it, he came to the conclusion that she did not recognize him.

“Do you have… something strong?” She asked while looking at the chalkboard above him which had the menu of the day written on it.

“Strong as in coffee to wake you up for the day or something strong to get your mind away from some stress like intoxicating alcohol?” He asked calmly, doing the same thing as he had with Asagi and trying to not appear suspicious if possible. Even if both women had no recollection of him from past instances, it did not hurt to stay cautious.

“Both, if I'm being honest.”

“Rough day?” He said casually, already preparing what she most definitely wanted while trying to figure out how to deal with the situation. “I have just the perfect solution to that problem.” Right in front of her eyes, he made the same preparation as he would have done with regular black coffee. Filling the glass more than halfway through before adding some sugar and much to Ingrid's surprise, some whiskey which he kept hidden from Sakura under the counter. Then proceeding to top the beverage with some cream on top before giving it to the Hell Knight.

“An Irish coffee?”

“Glad to see you recognized it.” Emiya added, going back to his work and seeing her take a sip from the corner of his eyes. Her body relaxed and she released a deep sigh he recognized all too well. “Stressful day.”

“You have no idea,” mumbled the woman. “When I thought my life couldn't get any more messy, the world just decided to prove me wrong in every way possible.”

Now that he thought about it, wasn't this the perfect opportunity he was hoping to find? One that practically handed itself to him on a golden platter. Dealing with rumors was one thing, but trying to distinguish between truth and false information was another headache entirely. But this person… She possessed every single answer he needed without requiring him to hunt them down and paint a target on his back.

Getting that information out of her would be a hurdle, but it still remained more viable than everything he was doing before. ‘Should I just kidnap her and force those answers out? No, Black will notice her absence and could potentially fear the worst, I can't trust that man's paranoia.’

While he tried to weigh the best possible outcome, Ingrid managed to finish her drink in a matter of seconds before raising her hand slightly to call him for him. “Another one, please.”

Without much thought, he did as asked and got another cup ready while taking the old one to clean it up.

This one lasted longer, a full minute longer. But still she was not satisfied and asked for a third one. Had she been any other person, such a request would have been denied given it was not exactly healthy to have three servings of such a drink so early in the morning, but clearly this woman possessed a different kind of body compared to your average human and thus he was not worried at all.

This went on for several times until she had her seventh cup. At that she genuinely started to slow down and take her time. The whiskey bottle was already half empty given she kept asking for him to add more of it. “Barkeep, have you ever dealt with a troublesome colleague before?”

A troublesome colleague? Who was she talking about? Black… no, it couldn't be him. Or maybe it was that crazy woman again, Oboro fit that description too given they worked for the same person. “I have long ago in the past. They can be a handful, I suppose you are going through dealing with someone similar?”

“Humph,” she huffed with disdain. “Handful is one way to describe that woman. A person with no tact, going around doing whatever she pleases without considering the image of her… company.”

Definitely Oboro.

“Thinking that she is the favorite just because she gets more work. But truthfully tomorrow that woman is no different to a janitor, who was just sent outside to do all the dirty work! Yet she has the audacity to speak up and threaten me to take my place!? What can you call this behavior other than being a handful?”

“A bitch,” he answered dryly, not even looking up, only to hear her slam her palm on the table.

“Exactly! I have tried to change her ways, to make her more dignified and pleasing to the eyes. Despite all my efforts, she kept reverting back to her previous self and using disgu—um, unprofessional means to get her tasks done! I have given her every single chance and she refuses to acknowledge them, throwing them back to my face.”

“Truly heinous.”

“Walking through the hallways so arrogantly as if she owned the place, sitting on my chair and messing with my office without permission, stealing my own man under my eyes, and wasting precious resources on having her definition of ‘fun’. Urgh, What did he see in her to keep her around? What does she possess that I don't?”

“Sounds like a vile woman indeed.”

She kept venting and venting as he’d reply with a word or two, not butting in the middle much and letting her talk however much she wished. For even if those words did not mean a lot, the crumbs of important information he could use in the future were worth it.

“Now she's even trying to cross the line I've set up long ago, just because of that task given to her by the CEO… humph, calling whatever toy she’s got something that would interest him—as if it would earn her my spot. I am supposed to be her superior, yet she keeps looking down on me.”

“How unfortunate.”

She continued, her voice getting louder with each complaint. “Not to mention I have to find this random guy with little to no knowledge of what he looks like aside from his clothes and lower mouth! That could be anyone in this damnable city!”

“Practically a ghost chase.”

“Haaah… Tell me about it.”

She was quite the talker, for a brief moment there, Emiya felt like he was back to being a Servant while listening to the hour long rant of a certain twin tailed Master of his. This one was not as fierce or loud, but she sure did like to talk for as long as Rin did. Not stopping until she reached her ninth cup and having a visible blush on her face.

At least he learned something, Black had given her a task. It did not take long for him to put the pieces together, given the time period he found himself in, in many instances it was quite common to see both Asagi and Sakura ending up in the Chaos Arena. His first deployment actually started around this exact time but with a few key differences, still, both Igawa sisters were in that space facing Oboro or other demons. The exact dates were unknown to him, but given what Ingrid had mentioned, he figured it must have been around this time exactly.

‘How does she get them there? Kidnapping is a possibility or luring them to it somehow… Sakura made no mentions of anything. But then again, she would not tell me even if there was something.’ But he could not show his face there whatsoever, unless he wished to see the world destroy itself for the nth time again. ‘I have to think about this carefully.’

“So, what do you think I should do?” Ingrid asked, pulling him away from his thoughts as he realized that during that moment he had lost track of what she was blabbering about. Quickly adjusting himself, Archer just figured giving a vague response would suffice.

“The worst thing you can do is to let her in your mind. For the moment you let her stay there for a long period of time then that’s when you've truly lost. My advice would be to ignore her existence entirely and focus on what you need to do. Good effort in its own way will always be rewarded. Who cares if she performs better than you or not… as long as you're giving it your best then you shouldn't be worried about anything.” Those were the first words that came to mind. “If you're confident in yourself, then it makes no sense for you to fear another employee who just likes to talk big.”

“...”

Did he say too much? Thankfully enough, his worries proved to be unwanted as the woman proceeded to nod her head. “...You're… you're right. I guess everything that kept happening around made me lower my defenses and allow doubts to make their way in. Ah, hold on, what time is it?” She mumbled and took a look at her gold watch and instantly started to panic. “It’s this late already!?”

Immediately drinking the last drop of the Irish coffee, Ingrid grabbed the handful of cash from her purse and placed it in front of him. “This coffee was wonderful, I'll be coming back again, barkeep.” She said those words quickly and in the next moment rushed out of the cafe, got in her car, and drove off with great speed.

“Hopefully she doesn't kill anyone on her way back.” He mumbled, cleaning up the place satisfied with the outcome. A single interaction managed to earn him more intel about the upcoming events rather than what already happened. Such a thing could hardly be found at the black market and because of that he was glad he did not go with his initial plan.

“What's with that look?” As he was arranging the counter, Sakura appeared in front of him with a suspicious stare. “You were being quite talkative with that woman.”

He raised an eyebrow at that accusatory tone. “We were having a small conversation, that's it.”

“You never talk this much with the prostitutes that come here though.”

He shrugged, “They just spend their time trying to find a way to tease me. She was genuinely having a bad day so I figured why not lend her an ear for her troubles.” There was a possibility that Sakura knew this person, but that did not change anything and it made sense for him to act oblivious.

“... Just because she's super sexy, you suddenly turn into mister nice guy… she didn't even bother to learn your name.” Sakura whispered under her breath, confused why she was getting worked up about that part instead, he just continued to play his part and said nothing. “Ah, I still need your answer about my invitation!”

Reminded of the conversation they had before Ingrid arrived, he felt much more certain about his answer this time after understanding more of where and when he was dropped in this timeline exactly.

“Fine, I don't mind.”