Triple Kill

The head of the Kajiamena Family walked in through the hole in the wall and was now seated calmly inside his Magic Workshop.

To his left sat a middle-aged woman around his own age, while to his right was a young man. Shirou guessed they were likely his wife and son.

But what the hell did he care?

"Magus of Kajiamena, I have come to kill you. The bell of destiny has rung. Hand over your heads and return your lives to the gods!" Shirou wore a brilliant smile as he casually spouted such cringeworthy lines.

Under normal circumstances, the Kajiamena Family would have thought this kid had something wrong with his head. But their household barrier had been destroyed in three moves, and even the defenses of their century-old inherited Magic Workshop had failed to slow him down in the slightest. Under such circumstances, they could not look down on this kid before them, no matter how foolish or childish he acted.

"Are you El-Melloi's assassin, sir?" Most magi were aristocrats and generally possessed their own aristocratic pride. Usually, they valued their lives more than their pride, since once they were dead, they had nothing. But when death was unavoidable, they naturally raised their heads and clung to their dignity.

"From a certain perspective, that's right. Lady Reines of El-Melloi paid the money, and we do the job. As long as one ignores the prey's opinion, it's quite a wonderful arrangement," Shirou said.

Judging from his utterly casual expression, it was as though he were discussing how to dispose of livestock rather than deciding the lives and deaths of living people.

"Sir, were you hired by El-Melloi?" The Kajiamena family head immediately seized upon what he considered the key point in Shirou's words. Being sent and being hired sounded similar, but in reality, the difference was enormous. The former referred to assassins trained by the family or experts they had recruited—people whose allegiance was certain. The latter were people hired with money or something else of value. Such people had little loyalty to their employers, and turning on them at the last minute was nothing unusual.

"Whatever El-Melloi gave you, my Kajiamena Family is willing to offer double!" the Kajiamena family head said without hesitation.

"Ah—have to say, that's a very tempting offer. I'm almost moved." Shirou dragged out his words like a child.

"But," Shirou paused, then changed course, "a man must remain loyal to the one who entrusted him with a task, so your proposal is rejected!"

Before Shirou said "but," the head of the Kajiamena Family still held onto a sliver of hope. Now, even that hope was gone.

"Must you really go this far, sir? My Kajiamena Family has no grudge against you whatsoever. There's no need for this, is there?"

The Kajiamena family head spoke with an ugly expression. He had finally managed to prepare himself to accept defeat and await death, yet Shirou's few short words had scattered that hard-won resolve.

People, no matter how prettily they spoke, were afraid of death.

"That's true. I have no deep-seated hatred toward you, nor any reason to fight you to the bitter end."

Shirou's words made the Kajiamena family head relax slightly. But in the next instant, Shirou suddenly moved behind him and drove a hand blade through his chest. A hand drenched in blood protruded from the man's front, clutching a crimson heart.

"But you got one other thing wrong, middle-aged man."

Under the Kajiamena family head's agonized and horrified gaze, Shirou spoke in a voice as cold as Ulquiorra's. "People don't need any reason to kill one another. You get in my way, so I kill you. That is the so-called 'nature of man'!"

With a thud, the body that had lost its support collapsed limply to the floor. Even in death, the Kajiamena family head's eyes remained filled with terror.

"If you must hate something, hate that you were born into the human realm!" Shirou shook the blood from his hand and spoke to the already-dead Kajiamena family head.

Then Shirou looked at the two remaining people and, under their terrified stares, spoke in the tone of a madman:

"Now then, ladies and gentleman, welcome aboard this direct train to the abyss. My name is Emiya Shirou, and I am this train's conductor. This train's final stop is Hell, and the fare is—your lives!"

The moment he finished speaking, Shirou used Sonido again and arrived before the young man. His left hand pierced the man's chest like a blade. At the same time, he Projected a dagger in his right hand and threw it at the middle-aged woman, driving it directly into her forehead.

"For the finale, let's have some fireworks as the grand curtain call for my first hunt!"

Trace On!

Shirou crouched down and used Projection Magecraft to create countless swords and blades. After all, they were merely ordinary weapons. If they had been the nuclear swords from later on, one would have been enough.

With both hands in his pockets, Shirou strolled unhurriedly out of the Kajiamena estate.

Broken Phantasm

The magical energy composing those swords and blades was detonated directly like explosives. Firelight and violent winds filled the space behind Shirou. But adhering to the principle that real men never looked back at explosions, Shirou walked away without turning his head.

Shirou's first commission had been completed, and its style was exactly like the creed-style assassination he had described to Natalia.

He broke through the front gate, charged straight to the target's Magic Workshop, smashed through the wall, told the people inside that their appointed time had come and ordered them to hand over their heads, slaughtered everyone he saw, then cremated the target with explosives and sent every trace of their existence into the sky along with them.

Yes, this was Assassin's Creed: Explosive Flame Musou!

"How was my performance, Natalia?" After returning to Natalia's side, Shirou casually asked.

"Spectacular. It was practically perfect! There's only one small problem," Natalia said with an amused smile. "Little brat, you didn't leave behind anything from the Kajiamena Family that could serve as proof. How are we supposed to report back to El-Melloi now?"

Shirou had blown them up too thoroughly. He had probably even saved them the funeral expenses. As for why, it was naturally because Shirou had blown them apart so completely that not even ashes remained.

Although this world possessed magecraft, that dark and wicked technology which defied mathematical principles, restoring someone who had been blown away without even ashes remaining was still impossible. That was already the domain of True Magic.

"If it's that, I actually kept a little something." Shirou pulled out, from who knew where, a specimen bag often seen in Conan and spoke to Natalia.

"A friend once told me that when fighting a magus, if you take them down, you must make sure to keep their Magic Crest."

Indeed, inside that little bag was the Magic Crest that the Kajiamena Family had inherited for several centuries.

"With this, it should be enough, right?" Shirou said.

Natalia raised an eyebrow at the sight. "Not bad, little brat. In this regard, you're much better than that brat Kiritsugu."

"Hehe, thanks for the praise."

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