Man Arrives in Type-Moon, Now Unreachable Chapter 7

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P.S.: So quiet, I feel completely forgotten. >﹏<

Everyone, if you can't give me tickets, at least leave a comment!

If there are enough comments, it can give the author the illusion that this book hasn't flopped yet. ╥﹏╥...

Today is still a double update, the other update will be tonight.

Chapter 5: Berserker? Avenger?

On the rooftop of a tall building not far from the Church. A slender young man sat cross-legged on the unadorned cement floor, gazing into the distance. Perhaps due to the temperature dropping at night, the ground was too cold, and the young man stood up not long after sitting down.

"Berserker, what is your wish?" the young man muttered to himself, a serious expression on his fair face that should only appear when conversing with others.

No one responded to his question. This was obvious. The top floor of the building was empty. If the young man didn't speak, the only sounds would be the whistling wind and silence. It would be chilling if someone responded in this lifeless top floor.

"Hey, at least say something," the young man turned his head and complained to the empty space. "I don't plan to use that cup to fulfill wishes, or rather, I plan to dismantle that thing. If you have any wishes, it's best to state them soon, and I'll do my best to help you fulfill them." He shrugged. "Don't let my appearance fool you, I actually know many secrets and can do things that guys who die in labs without coming out would never be able to do in their lifetime."

Something chilling happened. "My wish has already been fulfilled," a hoarse voice came from the void. "The moment I recovered my memories."

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Without warning, a towering giant appeared behind the young man. He was over 2.5 meters tall, with short black hair, muscles bulging like marble, and veins popping on his muscles like angry snakes resting on rocks. He was like a human iron tower. If a sculptor saw this man, they would weep with joy; this was simply the embodiment of the beauty of strength, a miracle that should not exist in the human world.

This was unscientific and unmagical, because the beauty of strength is a concept, not a concrete thing. How could a normal individual embody a concept?

But there are always special existences. For example, this man standing before Li Zihan, who had the great achievement of becoming a god and earned the title of the Strongest, the Demigod.

"Can you share your next plan with me?" the young man scratched his cheek. "Honestly, although I knew your rationality wasn't consumed by 'madness,' I didn't expect that one Command Spell would be enough to make you sober. It took two Command Spells to restore your memories."

The giant looked down at his current Master. His crimson eyes, like those of a ferocious beast, flickered with the light of reason. After a long moment, the hero who had completed the twelve trials slowly spoke, "You were willing to use two Command Spells to let me gain memories of the future, naturally you have your reasons, not just to ask me to watch an autobiographical movie. I will offer my strength for your plan."

Without much thought, Heracles easily understood that the person who summoned him this time already had a complete plan. This plan included helping him live to see his future memories and inciting his anger towards a certain king. Heracles disliked such actions, but he had to admit that this move was very effective.

Because he genuinely hated that king, who was also a demigod like himself, more than Eurystheus, who took his throne and forced him into exile, or the centaur Nessus, who coveted his wife's beauty and caused him to throw himself into the fire.

To defeat that enemy, who was among the strongest of all Servants, Heracles needed help, even if that guy was as untrustworthy as Hermes.

Heracles did not doubt the ability of the Mage who summoned him. Someone who could gather future intelligence was clearly no ordinary person.

"Thank you for your understanding, Berserker," the young man chuckled. "Killing that king will require our cooperation. This process might take some time, but victory is guaranteed."

"Berserker" was indeed a very familiar title. Heracles felt a bit dazed. In his memory, there was an awkward girl who called him that. She was a girl who trusted him unconditionally, even when he was defenseless against Archer, she still shouted that Berserker was the strongest. She was a girl who saw him as her greatest support, and even when she was dying, she called his name. That girl regarded him as a father or brother. Even when she was on her last breath and had lost her sight, she crawled in the darkness, mistaking a stone for her foot, and felt at peace, as if as long as she had him, she had the whole world.

But she died. Her eyes were gouged out, her heart was removed, and she died in agony. Her corpse was even used as material for a magical ritual.

And he could only return to the Throne of Heroes with anger and regret. When he was summoned again, he couldn't even remember anything about her, not even the little things in life. If it weren't for his Master using Command Spells to restore his memories this time, he would probably still be in a daze.

The next time he is summoned, there might not be a Master who uses Command Spells to restore his memories, nor might he encounter that person. The opportunity for revenge is only these seven days!

"Master, don't call me Heracles anymore," the demigod hero said softly. His red eyes held no berserker's madness or bloodlust, only the calmness of the sea. The great hero from Greece did not show pain or wail, nor did he roar or bellow. However, Li Zihan could easily feel his sorrow and rage. For a moment, even the wind on the rooftop fell silent, as if unable to bear Heracles's next resolve. "What I do next will not be worthy of this name. Just call me Alcaeus."

There was no earth-shattering roar, no rampant killing intent, nor a death oath like "I swear I will not be human if I don't kill that shining bastard." There was only a statement devoid of any emotion. A statement that he would abandon his pride and glory as a hero, a son of a god, and a demigod to fight.

"Please wait and see," the young man said to Heracles, no, Alcaeus, and bowed slightly. Someone who could abandon glory for one person, trample on bottom lines, and risk their life deserved his respect. He slowly revealed his plan, a plan that was not righteous, and could even be considered quite wicked. "Is there anything you need to add?"

"No," Alcaeus's face was hard and cold, like a giant forged from black iron. "If I have to say one request, it's to leave Gilgamesh to me to deal with at the last moment. Any problem?"