Impatient, Zouken Matou took the initiative and came to find her.
"Didn't I tell you to come find me immediately?"
"Sorry... Grandpa, I'm coming right now."
Sakura Matou hurriedly lowered her head and followed the old man.
What a pity. It seemed she wouldn't be able to talk to Brother Shirou tonight.
Volume One 008 Projection, Begin
"Shirou~ Are you still awake~"
A little after eight that evening, the wild Shinji Matou appeared.
"I'm not asleep. What's up?"
Shirou, who had been sitting on the bed with his legs crossed and staring at the ceiling, sat up.
"Come take a look at this."
Shinji held a Walkman out in front of Shirou.
"Tsk, showing off again?"
Shirou felt that this brat was becoming more and more like a character from the science-fiction anime he had been watching lately.
He thought the character was called Suneo.
Shinji shook his head. "I'm not showing off. This thing seems to be broken."
"Oh."
Shirou took the Sony Walkman and examined it in his hands.
Shinji sat down beside him. "Well? Can you fix it?"
Shirou frowned slightly. "What exactly do you take me for?"
Do you think I'm Doraemon?
"Can't you fix it?" Shinji asked dejectedly.
"I never said I couldn't fix it."
The moment Shirou said that, Shinji's eyes lit up.
"That's amazing! Then I'll leave it to you, Shirou!"
"Enough chatter. Don't sit so close, you're burning me up. Move over a little."
Shirou touched the damaged plastic casing with his finger.
Walkman.
"Britain" clearly had no technology or creations like this. It was Shirou's first time encountering such a precise machine.
But just because he had never seen something didn't mean he couldn't fix it.
Even problems that professional technicians would struggle to solve could be handled with ease if magic was used.
Shirou Amamiya closed his eyes. Through his sense of touch, he felt the Walkman's interior, read its structure, and visualized its blueprint.
He remembered that when he first explained this technique to Morgan, the Paradise Fae had widened her eyes.
"Morgan, you can do this too, right?"
"H-How could I possibly do that?!"
It seemed to be an ultra-rare talent unique to Shirou. Even the omnipotent, invincible genius witch couldn't do it.
Morgan smiled and said, "Then, from now on, Shirou will be responsible for maintaining the team's weapons and equipment."
Had that woman tricked him just to make him work? Was this really not some rare talent at all?
Forget it. Thanks to this deconstruction talent, Shirou had later developed a series of combat methods.
For example, because Shirou possessed the Origin of "Sword," he could analyze and store every prototype sword he had ever seen inside his body, then reproduce them whenever he needed them.
But for now, all he could do was find the Walkman's malfunction and repair it.
Come to think of it, how about opening an auto-repair shop instead of becoming a chef in the future?
While he was lost in wild thoughts, Shirou finished repairing the Walkman.
"Shinji, it's done."
Shirou turned around and discovered that Shinji was no longer beside him. Instead, he was lying on the windowsill in a daze.
Children this age had poor concentration. They couldn't stand waiting even for a little while.
The seaweed-haired boy gazed at the city lights and muttered, "Sakura really is cute... The way she's so quiet and obedient makes her look just like a doll~"
"What are you suddenly talking about?"
Shinji turned around, clenched his fist, and said, "Shirou, I've decided. I'm going to become the brother Sakura respects!"
"Is that so? Then good luck... Here, don't break it again."
Shirou stuffed the Walkman into his arms.
"Oh wow, you really fixed it. As expected of Shirou."
Shinji excitedly held up the Walkman and shouted that he would treat Shirou to Ramune Soda tomorrow.
Shirou rose from beside the bed. "Fixing machines is easy. But if a person breaks, they aren't so easy to repair."
"What's that? Did some famous person in history say it?" The seaweed-haired boy blinked.
Shinji Matou said that he wanted to become an excellent older brother. His words had clearly come from the heart, without the slightest trace of insincerity.
But Shirou didn't believe it was something that could be accomplished easily.
The seven-year-old boy had no idea that his position in the Matou Family had quietly changed with Sakura's arrival.
When sensitive and highly prideful Shinji discovered that he was actually an unwanted part of the family, while the sister he wanted to protect was the family's hope—
Just how would his state of mind change?
Do your best, Shinji. I'm not going to help you.
The seaweed-haired boy looked toward the door. "It's already so late. Where are you going?"
Shirou waved over his shoulder.
"To pee. Don't follow me."
Sakura Matou's training ground was in the basement of the mansion.
After passing through layer upon layer of airtight, sturdy Magic Barriers, they arrived at the workshop Zouken Matou took pride in.
A rotten stench filled the air, while green darkness like the deep sea spread everywhere.
Looking at the hellish scene before her, Sakura Matou covered her nose, her pupils trembling.
"G-Grandpa, what is this place...? What are these insects?"
Several meters ahead of the girl was a gigantic pit.
Countless black shadows writhed within the abyss.
They were insects with hideously ugly forms and sucker-like mouths.
Covered in mucus, they gathered together like a carpet of black velvet.
They were the Incubus Worms raised by Zouken Matou—monsters that craved human bodily fluids, brains, and bone marrow.
Once the Incubus Worms crawled onto a man, they would crush his spine, suck out his brain, and turn him into a complete cripple.
For women—the worms would choose to parasitize their bodies, control their nerves, and turn them into beasts consumed by a craving for bodily fluids.
In the end, the women occupied by the worms would have both body and mind completely violated and destroyed.
To transform the daughter of the Tohsaka Family into someone more suited to Matou magecraft, modifying her body was necessary.
"So, let's begin."
"...Grandpa, no."
After listening to Zouken Matou's explanation, the girl's eyes filled with tears as she let out a hoarse, despairing voice.
"If you must blame someone, blame the father who sent you here... Come to think of it, is Tokiomi no longer your father?"
The old magus cackled as he approached the girl.
"Go on. Become the true Sakura Matou."
"No!!!"
The girl screamed. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the floor.
"Oh dear... Sakura, you can't be like this. Don't make things so difficult for me."
"No, no, no... Aah—!!!"
Zouken Matou walked over, grabbed her by the hair, and dragged her all the way to the edge of the pit in one swift pull.
Just as he was about to throw Sakura Matou inside,
"------Projection, begin. (Trace on)"
Accompanied by a low young man's voice, the first spark of fire ignited in the lightless, netherworld of insects.
"What... Uwaaaaaaaaaah!"
Zouken Matou turned around. Having grown accustomed to the darkness, he could not open his eyes under the dazzling burst of light.
"W-What is that?!"
He shouted in pain without thinking.
"You're asking about what I'm holding? Ah, they're called..."
Shirou Amamiya raised his arms, tightly wrapped in chains, and looked fondly at the two beloved blades on either side.
"Blades of Chaos."
Volume One 009 I Am Made of Swords
The blazing explosion that illuminated the darkness gradually settled, and Zouken Matou quickly regained his sight.
He saw the intruder who had broken into this magical ritual.
Calling him an intruder wasn't quite accurate, because the other party was a guest who had been invited to stay at the Matou mansion.
Shirou Amamiya.
Zouken Matou was utterly shocked.
How was this possible?!
Someone had infiltrated the Matou workshop, the realm of magecraft, without him noticing anything at all?
Though he was long past his prime, he was still one of the finest magi in the country.
Especially in the field of curses, there were only a handful of magi who could compare with Zouken Matou.
Dozens of barriers and curses had been set up around the workshop for protection, and countless Winged Blade Insects had been deployed for reconnaissance and defense.
The Winged Blade Insects were practically an extension of Zouken Matou's sense of touch. He should have felt even a breeze blowing through the underground passage, let alone a living person.
Had he really allowed Shirou to silently come up behind him?
More concerning than that was Shirou's appearance.
One coil after another of chains wrapped around the red-haired boy's slender arms. The chains had even sunk into his soft flesh.
Within the red-haired boy's small palms were two curved blades burning fiercely. Their seemingly everlasting flames illuminated the dark insect hell.
Before you continue