Your Excellency Is Strong, but My Art Style Is Above Yours! Chapter 36

If anything unexpected came up, he would prioritize his own affairs and might even abandon the mission for them. That needed to be made clear in advance, lest conflicts arise later.

Gudako understood, of course!

Who was she? She had cleared hellish FGO raids hundreds of times. She had encountered every kind of bizarre Servant imaginable, and her tolerance and affinity stats were maxed out.

She could even get along splendidly with someone like Kishinami. How could she possibly take issue with Iori?

So even though Iori's identity as a "Phantom Spirit" was highly suspicious, Gudako was still willing to trust him—she had no idea how many suspicious people she had raised to maximum Bond already. One more made no difference.

Thus, she sincerely thanked Iori and happily declared that they had gained another companion—moreover, a proper handsome guy, something increasingly rare in Chaldea—which delighted her immensely. Then she went back to her room to sleep.

She seemed to have some minor ailment that required her to sleep for long periods every day. Unable to explain further to Iori, she felt deeply apologetic.

"...La la, Master's sleeping time keeps getting longer. It's really worrying."

Moriarty watched Gudako leave, then waited until the door had closed before asking Merlin, "Mr. Magician, you're responsible for looking after her in her dreams, aren't you? Have you actually been doing your job?"

"You may not believe it, but I've been trying my hardest... There's nothing I can do. Though I am a 'dream demon,' I'm not omnipotent in dreams, let alone in Master's dreams... In the end, she still has to rely on herself. I merely provide support."

Merlin glanced at Iori and did not continue the subject. Iori, sensing something was off, wisely refrained from asking any tactless questions.

"All right. Although Iori has many concerns, now that you've joined our big family, we should introduce you to the specifics."

"Thank you. It is a great honor for me to work alongside all of you heroes and sages," Iori replied seriously and humbly.

Merlin said with a chuckle, "We are still called 'Chaldea.' Most of our members are Servants. There are many of them, but they usually do not gather in one place. They have their own areas of activity, and some are even scattered across different times and spaces.

Only when we need to 'continue' a certain Worldline do we select suitable Servants to interfere with it and create more possibilities—of course, all voluntarily.

We are a conscientious company. We absolutely would never do anything bad like forced labor—"

Clang! Clang! Clang!

A dial-button landline phone, the kind often seen in old cartoons, rang atop the kotatsu table, interrupting Merlin.

The Magus of Flowers gave Iori an apologetic look before picking up the receiver.

"Hello... Mm... Mm, I understand. Leave this matter to Lord El-Melloi II. He's very familiar with this Singularity.

Hmm? What? The Second refuses to go? He wants to invoke the Servant Labor Law?

This isn't an ordinary Caster anymore. We need to take drastic measures!

Go, bring Iskandar here. Have him tell the Second, 'I love you, I need you, you are my finest retainer, far superior to Hephaestion'—

Then send the Second a fruit basket of Golden Apples!"

Click...

Merlin hung up and broke into a radiant smile. "Please rest assured, we are absolutely not some unscrupulous corporation. We never force Servants to work. We merely encourage them to volunteer for overtime."

Iori: "??????"

That kind of "voluntary"... Oh, right, you bastard don't have any weaknesses!

So even being volunteered for doesn't apply to you, does it?

Merlin the Miser, does Gudako know you do this kind of thing?!

After briefly learning about the situation from Merlin, the Magus of Flowers said they did not currently lack manpower, so Iori need not concern himself with such matters for now. He should focus on improving himself; Phantom Spirits could also ascend to the Throne of Heroes through accumulated achievements, and Chaldea had encountered such cases before.

Iori gave a few perfunctory replies, then claimed he was going to train. In reality, he returned to Akame ga Kill!.

Plop~~

Lying on the inn bed and staring blankly at the ceiling, Iori had only spent about half an hour in Type-Moon at most, yet the sheer volume of information had struck his inner world like a meteorite. He needed time to sort through the many thoughts in his mind.

There was awe at that vast world setting, restless eagerness to try his hand, admiration and sympathy for Gudako, as well as all kinds of private speculation and unease... But overall, he could be certain that this was a rare opportunity. He simply needed to handle it carefully, lest he bring disaster upon himself through one careless misstep.

And the method to reduce the risk was simple:

Become stronger!

If he possessed Golden Flash's strength, he could run rampant in an ordinary Holy Grail War.

If he could rival a Grand Servant, then even Singularities would be as easy to traverse as flat ground.

If he obtained the Authority of a Beast, then he would already be close to the ceiling.

Though Type-Moon had complicated settings and an enormous world setting, it still followed the fundamental law of "strength and weakness." If he wanted a voice, then he had to make himself stronger!

Whether it was Bleach, Akame ga Kill!, Type-Moon, or even other worlds he might encounter in the future, it was all the same!

For now, it was still difficult to stir up trouble in Type-Moon, but that was all right. He was brimming with possibilities!

Casting aside his distractions and reaffirming his resolve, Iori raised a hand and examined it carefully.

"Still a magical-energy construct... Is it because Akame ga Kill! has no restrictions in that regard? It seems I'll only revert to a Bleach spirit body after returning to Soul Society.

But speaking of which, I should settle the Empire's affairs first!"

He analyzed the current situation, identified his advantages, and then made his choice.

For Iori, the most efficient way to improve was to establish legends and constantly unlock new Art Style CGs.

Neither Type-Moon nor Soul Society made that easy, but the Empire of Akame ga Kill! fit the conditions perfectly.

General Budo and Esdeath were problems, but not insurmountable ones. As long as he overthrew the Empire, Iori could naturally gain tremendous fame...

No, why was he being so conservative?

The Revolutionary Army was no good either!

No matter, I'll screw them both over at once!

Chapter 52: Hypnosis and Brainwashing, but a Beast

Though he intended to screw them both over, specific circumstances required specific analysis. No matter how bad the Revolutionary Army might be, overthrowing the Empire remained the most urgent matter.

If Iori wanted to make a name for himself and expand his prestige, then in theory, the most efficient method would be to escalate the war between both sides, make it more intense, and even turn it into a prolonged age of chaos. The people would then yearn more desperately for a hero to emerge, giving him more opportunities.

However, as someone who had grown up in China in his previous life and possessed a simple sense of justice, he could never bring himself to do such a thing.

He had his own plans. They might require more effort, but they would allow him to intervene in—and even lead—this great era of transition between the old and the new!

In any case, he first sought out Najenda and proposed a condition to the Revolutionary Army behind her. After hearing it, the valiant female general was thoroughly stunned.

"Syura? He may still be alive, but he's a cripple now. What do you want him for?"

Najenda had thought Iori wanted to discuss the Revolutionary Army's terms. To recruit this rather formidable bounty hunter, she had been prepared to pay a steep price. Yet who would have thought that what Iori wanted was Syura, the Minister's son!

Yes, that guy who didn't eat beef~

What was he going to do with that thing?

"Half a year ago, we already contacted the Minister in private. The Minister was only willing to pay to ransom Syura back. He refused to release our imprisoned companions and was unwilling to make any political or military concessions... It seems this son is not all that important to him.

Headquarters has already decided to kill Syura as a blood sacrifice on the day of the large-scale uprising. Until then, we'll let him cling to life.

To be honest, I don't think Syura has any value left to exploit."

"Then give him to me."

Iori said with a smile, "I intend to exchange him with the Minister for a bounty. A living person is certainly worth more than a corpse."

"I think honesty is very important if both sides want to cooperate." Najenda stared at the white mask, seemingly trying to see Iori's expression through it.

"What exactly are you planning?"

"Honesty is important, but mutual respect is important too. You only need to tell me whether you can agree."

Iori coolly rejected Najenda's probing. "Hand Syura over to me, and I will be willing to handle some difficult targets for the Revolutionary Army. That should be a fair deal. After all, this world does not lack beasts suitable for a blood sacrifice, does it?"

That was certainly true!

Najenda raised a brow and considered it seriously.

As the Minister's son, Syura held a very special status and was infamous throughout the Imperial Capital. Using him as a blood sacrifice could win over the hearts of the Imperial Capital's citizens; there was no doubt about that.

But correspondingly, Iori was right. The Empire truly did not lack high-ranking individuals who committed countless evil deeds... Finding another candidate among the "beasts" would be easy.

Moreover, the Imperial Capital's popular support was not the most important thing to the Revolutionary Army. If they truly fought their way to the Imperial Capital, then the war would basically be nearing its end.

"We can give him to you. Consider it a gesture of our sincerity," Najenda said seriously. "But in exchange, we may need to use Dimensional Square Array · Shangri-La in the future. When that time comes, I hope you will help us."

"Oh?"

Iori looked her over. As expected of a woman who had held high positions in both the Empire and the Revolutionary Army—she truly knew how to seize the key interests!

The request was not excessive, and Iori readily agreed—after all, whether he would actually let them use it later was still up to him.

"By the way, where is Akame now?"

Iori suddenly said, "I left some things with her. It's time to retrieve them."

Five days later, Imperial Capital. Within a sprawling manor with magnificent buildings and lavish decorations, countless servants, maids, and guards hurried about like ants beneath a stormy sky. Everyone was so flustered that they did not know what to do, seemingly preparing to receive some important figure.

No, strictly speaking, they had already received him. And he was indeed one of the few truly important figures in the entire Empire—a person who could decide the life and death of these servants with a single word.

For the master they served—the Minister Honest's only son, the young master Syura, who had long wandered abroad—had suddenly returned to the estate today!

To prevent the notoriously moody Lord Syura from finding fault with them, everyone performed their tasks amid fear and panic, turning the entire estate into a boiling cauldron.

Unlike these servants, who knew nothing, Honest, the Minister, was well aware that Syura had been captured by the Revolutionary Army over half a year ago. Negotiations between the two sides had long since fallen apart. By all rights, his precious son should either have been cut down with a blade or still be miserably locked in a cage... How had he suddenly returned?

Something strange was definitely afoot!

Thus, even when meeting his biological son, whom he had not seen in a long time and who had escaped death, the Minister kept his strongest guards beside him and remained a considerable distance away.

"Damn it! What are you doing? Your own son has come home, and you put on this kind of display?"

Syura sat in a wheelchair, his hands rigidly pressed against the armrests. All four limbs had been completely ruined, yet his mouth remained as arrogant and unrestrained as ever.

"There's a guy in the Imperial Research Corps called Mr. Fashion, right? Hurry and summon him. Replace all my limbs with prosthetics. I don't want to lie in bed or sit in a wheelchair ever again!"

"Hmm... It does seem to be the real one."

The Minister stroked his beard. He was very familiar with Syura's appearance and true personality, so he could confirm that this was indeed Syura. Yet as a precaution, he still did not approach him. The Revolutionary Army's assassins were formidable, after all.

At that thought, the obese Minister, whose eyes were filled with cunning and coldness, looked to either side. The four guards known as the Rakshasa Four Ghosts possessed strength comparable to Imperial Arms users. Under their protection, he was perfectly safe. Besides, he was no weakling himself. Though he looked bloated, his martial arts were quite impressive.

Honest calmly continued asking Syura several things that only father and son would know. Only after confirming everything did he become both shocked and overjoyed, suddenly bursting into loud sobs.

"Oh, my son, you've suffered so much!!!"

"Ahhh, Daddy, I missed you so much!"

"..."

The Rakshasa Four Ghosts, along with the masked man pushing Syura's wheelchair, all fell silent as they watched the father and son perform. Especially since Honest was crying so hard, yet his feet did not move an inch... He was clearly cautious to an extreme degree, and did not truly care all that much about his son.

"By the way, how exactly did you escape? The Revolutionary Army's prison guards must have been very strict, right?"

The Minister abruptly stopped crying and gave Iori, who wore a black mask, a deep look.

"And who is he?"

"You've got the nerve to ask!"

Syura was furious. "I know exactly how you negotiated with the Revolutionary Army... But that's all in the past. Since I came back alive, you're still my dearest, most beloved father.

As for how I got out? Naturally, I relied on myself! Did you expect me to wait for you to rescue me?

This guy is a subordinate I recruited while wandering through various countries. A ronin samurai from the Eastern Island Nation—Izou!

After I was captured, my men either fled or betrayed me. Only this man secretly infiltrated the Revolutionary Army after ruining his appearance. He waited for over half a year before finally rescuing me!

This guy is incredibly skilled. He saved me again this time, so Dad, no matter what, you have to make him a general!"

"No, no, I have no such ambitions."

The samurai in the black mask patted the katana at his waist. "As long as I can remain by Lord Syura's side and continuously find people to offer as blood sacrifices to this 'Gouetsu,' that will be enough.

My life exists for the sake of sacrificing blades. Fame, fortune, and rank are trivial matters."

"A samurai from the Eastern Island Nation?"

The Minister glanced at the tachi hanging at Iori's waist and nodded.