Chapter 127 - 42.2

"The man is dead, Sakura." Rin said calmly, putting the letters Ayako had read into her pockets. "I don't think he minds very much."

"It's all for the sake of tracking down his murderer." Ayako added, placing a hand on Sakura's shoulder. "You can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs."

"Well, alright then." Sakura mumbled, before taking a deep breath. "However, I would appreciate it if we could treat the letters with respect."

"I'll make sure to do that." Rin assured her, and when she put several other letters into her pockets, she did so much more gently than before.

"Anything else of interest here?" Ayako eventually asked when they had packed all the letters away.

"There's nothing left in this room." Rin shook her head confidently. "Let us check the rest of the house, and after that, we leave. This has taken too long anyway, and every moment we are here increases the chance someone will notice that we broke in."

"Then let's hurry." Ayako said, not at all eager to be discovered by anyone.

Eventually, they didn't find anything else of particular interest. The letters were undoubtedly the greatest find, and no number of scribbled books or party-outfits could compare.

With the job done, the trio left Paris-san's house again, making sure to lock all the doors behind them and remove all traces of their presence there.

The mission had been a success.

When Stanley Meluastea was hauled into the courtroom, Shirou was almost disappointed.

He had never seen the head of the Meluastea before, having been otherwise occupied while Lady Barthomeloi arrested him, and as such, the sight of the man took the redhead aback a bit.

The reason for that was not that Stanley Meluastea was extremely fat, to a point where Shirou was convinced he needed Reinforcement to even walk. Really, it was not that. The redhead had encountered fat Magi before after all, so even though Stanley took it to an absurd degree, that wasn't what had surprised him.

No, what took Shirou aback was how utterly pathetic he looked.

Stanley was being hauled into the courtroom by two guards, both of whom had to use Reinforcement to achieve the feat. Not because Stanley was resisting, but because he was hanging powerlessly in their arms. All fight had long since left him, leaving the guards to haul more than two hundred kilograms of uncooperative human body along with them.

He was unwashed, his hair was a mess, his skin was unhealthily pale, and he was whimpering softly, his eyes clenched shut to avoid having to look anyone in the eyes. Even when the guards placed him in his chair and restrained him with chains and cuffs, he didn't even make a token attempt at resistance.

He hadn't been tortured, or otherwise treated all that badly, yet Stanley behaved as if he'd been mentally broken multiple times over. It was, as said before, utterly pathetic, but Shirou could not bring himself to feel an ounce of pity for the man.

After bringing pain and misery to untold thousands, he was now going to play the victim and wallow in self-pity? Shirou would have none of it, and he hoped the judges wouldn't either.

"Stanley Meluastea!" Fortunately, when the senior judge spoke, it was with a hard, merciless voice, and he picked up a massive scroll of parchment, from which he started reading aloud. "You stand accused. You have been charged with crimes so many as to be uncountable. You have been accused of committing fraud while filing personal expenses, fraud while filing your Department's expenses, fraud when conducting business with other departments, neglecting to report the purchase of forbidden materials to the Department of Policies, neglecting to report the pursuit of forbidden crafts in your departments to the Department of Policies, neglecting to report the location of Sealing Designees to the Department of Policies even when you were made aware of them, purposefully antagonising the Church for little to no gain, purposefully antagonising the Wandering Sea for little to no gain, purposefully antagonising Atlas for little to no gain, blackmailing other Magi, extorting other Magi, immorally recruiting new apprentices, immorally recruiting workers, immorally recruiting researchers, ignoring the Edict of Glasgow, ignoring the Edict of Nike, ignoring the Pact of Berlin, committing theft, committing robbery, conducting Ponzi Schemes…"

The senior judge went on and on and on, and though Shirou tried to keep paying attention to what he said, he found his thoughts started wandering as the list of accusations kept growing bigger. It seemed as if Stanley was being accused of every crime in existence, and though there was something positive to say about the thoroughness of the prosecutors, who had given the list to the judges, Shirou found it all rather superfluous.

Ultimately, the only crimes that mattered here were the high-treason and the numerous massacres. For those alone Stanley would have received the death penalty five times over, so adding all those other crimes to the list was rather just a waste of time.

But the correct procedures had to be followed, even if Shirou himself didn't see the need, and the senior judge performed admirably, not stuttering or fumbling even once during the fifteen minutes of reading the list.

"…And committing high treason against the Magus Association itself." The senior judge eventually ended with the direst crime, before placing the list aside. "The evidence presented is overwhelming and conclusive. With that in mind, Stanley Meluastea, how do you plead?"

"Not guilty!" The head of the Meluastea screeched immediately, finally showing some backbone as he rallied against the accusations. "I was framed! This is a set-up! The Barthomeloi are trying to-"

"Silence!" The bailiff thundered, and an ancient spell woven into the courtroom took effect, completely muting Stanley. "You have said your piece, Stanley Meluastea. Now cease your rambling."

Stanley didn't listen however. His lips continued moving, his fat cheeks wobbling with every word as he struggled against his bindings. The muting spell was effective however, and not a sound was audible in the courtroom.

"Prosecutors, present the evidence you have gathered." The senior judge ordered, and from there on, Stanley Meluastea's trial actually began.

Though calling it a trial was a misnomer. It was more of a one-sided beat-down. There was just so much evidence against Stanley that even if the attorneys had actually had something to work with, which they hadn't, they still would have been swept away by it all.

In a normal trial, they might have tried delaying tactics, or focused on how the 'investigation' had been conducted in effort to get some of the evidence thrown out, but this was the Clocktower, where such tactics were useless.

It was perfectly clear to everyone in the courtroom that Stanley would be found guilty, and the only reason the trial was still continuing was because Policies wanted to send a message to the rest of the Clocktower.

Rebel against us, and you too will sit there, watched and mocked by all, as we humiliate and then kill you. We own you all, and there is nothing you can do about it.

Shirou could barely stand to look at it, and his gaze strayed away from Stanley to look out over the hall instead. There, he saw many people who were clearly enjoying the sight of the large man being humiliated, but there were just as many who were frowning deeply, undoubtedly understanding perfectly well what Policies was trying to convey.

Lord El-Melloi didn't look at all happy either, but whether that was because he disliked seeing someone be humiliated or because he disliked the message was not clear. Perhaps it was both.

Eventually, after half-an-hour of back-and-forth between the attorneys and prosecutors, the verdict was passed.

"Stanley Meluastea, for your crimes against the Magus Association, you are sentenced to death." There was no mercy in the senior judge's voice, and most of the crowd burst into whispered and not-so-whispered conversations. Shirou sat perfectly still however, remembering what Lady Barthomeloi and Lady Montmorency had asked of him before the trial started. "You will be hanged by the neck until death."

The whispers in the hall intensified, and Shirou wasn't at all surprised that most people seemed shocked that Stanley wouldn't be tortured before he was hanged.

"Your remains shall be used for research purposes. Your Crest and your title of family-head will be passed on to the next-in-line if any of the Meluastea survive, and if not, your Crest will be used for research purposes and your title will be defunct. Your achievements and awards will be revoked. Your name shall be struck from all records, save for the ones that detail your criminal history. To future generations, you shall only be known as a traitor."

Shirou was almost impressed by the judge's zeal. He himself would have just killed Stanley and been done with it. Then again, that was probably why he was such a bad Magus. Not enough bloodthirst and cruelty.

Shirou then noticed out of the corner of his eye that Lady Barthomeloi was looking at him in askance. For a moment, the redhead didn't understand why, but then he realised she was probably wondering if he was okay with the verdict.

Well, hanging was a rather merciful way of executing someone, so he nodded slightly, satisfied, at least reasonably so, with the judge's verdict.

Stanley clearly didn't agree however. He was still under the mute spell, but it was obvious to anyone looking at him that he was screaming at the top of his lungs, his face simultaneously red with rage and white with terror. Spittle was flying around, and he pulled on the chains so hard that the skin on his wrists broke.

He suddenly seemed to have gained a backbone again, and when the guards made to haul him off, he fought against them with everything he had left in him. Where two guards had been enough to get Stanley into the courtroom, four were needed to get him out, and when he was far away enough from his seat to no longer be influenced by the mute spell, his last screams were audible.

"You will regret this!" He howled with palpable fury, shaking his fist at the judge. "You will suffer! I will make you wish for death! I am Stanley Meluastea!"

Then the door was shut, and his screams faded away.

"Bring in Grover Meluastea." The senior judge then commanded, not at all impressed by the threats that had just been levelled against him, and continuing on immediately. The crowd, that had been whispering wildly up until then, fell silent again.

Shirou knew from the reports that Lady Montmorency had made him read that Grover Meluastea was the younger brother of Stanley Meluastea. He had been an important figure in both the Meluastea-family and the Department of Archaeology, and there had been some rumours that he was involved in many other things besides.

After having seen Stanley Meluastea, Shirou wondered what the younger brother would be like. Would he be just as pathetic, or not?

He didn't have to wait long to find out. Within a minute, the doors opened again, and Grover Meluastea was brought inside, allowing Shirou to take a look at the man.

"Ghrk!?"

He almost recoiled in shock, only just preventing that instinctive urge with immense willpower. His heart raced, his muscles clenched, and it took a titanic effort to force himself to sit still.

That was Grover Meluastea?!

The man was tall, grey-haired, and somewhat handsome for an old man. He wasn't muscled, but he wasn't frail either, and unlike his elder brother, he looked quite healthy. If he'd lived carefully, he should have been able to last another thirty or so years in good health.

He was also quite powerful, and that power had been augmented in the recent past by several Rituals and operations. The man even had Runes carved into his ribs, providing him with some extra power.

That wasn't what made Shirou recoil though. The thing that had shocked him so much, the reason for his sudden reflex, was the sheer evil that the man radiated. An evil that easily surpassed anything else Shirou had ever seen.

Nothing came close. Even the Dead Apostle and the Phantasmal Beast had been but candle flames compared to the bonfire that was Grover Meluastea. It was as if the man breathed malevolence, as if he were a demon put on Earth merely to torment humanity.

It actually made Shirou physically ill to look at the man, and his every instinct screamed at him that he couldn't allow Grover Meluastea to live for even a day longer. That as long as that thing lived, there would never be peace in the Magus Association.

Now he understood why the Meluastea, after centuries upon centuries of toeing the line and playing ball with the rest of the Clocktower, had fallen to such depth and depravity within a single generation.

It was because of this man. This creature, who had undoubtedly pushed his ruthless but controlled family-members over the edge into outright evil. A demon hiding in their midst, poisoning the waters beyond recovery.

Even now, when he had lost all his power and influence, while he was manhandled and humiliated in front of an immense crowd and about to be sentenced to death, Grover Meluastea showed no fear, no shame, only a perfect, utter malice.

It had to be hidden at least moderately well though, for no one else reacted like Shirou did. Even though this man was malevolence incarnate, no one appeared repulsed by him, and even Lady Barthomeloi looked on with no indication she saw anything amiss.

This couldn't just be indifference though. Even Magi would be revolted if they could have seen what Grover really was. In fact, the redhead was half-convinced that if the guards dragging Grover into the hall had been able to feel what Shirou felt, to see what he saw, they would have beaten Grover to death on the spot.

But how? How could this man hold such evil? It was utterly inhuman. A reckless hate that burned everything in its path.

Human beings didn't have the capacity to be this evil, it simply wasn't in their nature. Something was wrong here, terribly wrong.

Shirou focused hard, engraving the sight and the sensation of Grover Meluastea into his mind, no matter how nauseous it made him. He would memorise it, and he would make sure that every time he felt even a whiff of something similar, he would drop everything else he was doing and destroy the source without hesitation.

No Hero of Justice could allow something like that to exist!

"Grover Meluastea!" The senior judge rumbled once said man had been made to take a seat in the accused's chair. "You have been charged with crimes too numerous to count. You stand accused of committing fraud while filing personal expenses, fraud while filing your Department's expenses, fraud when conducting business with other departments, neglecting to report the purchase of forbidden materials to the Department of Policies, neglecting to report the pursuit of forbidden crafts in your departments to the Department of Policies, neglecting to report the location of Sealing Designees to the Department of Policies even when you were made aware of them, purposefully antagonising the Church for little to no gain…"

The list was exactly the same as it had been for Stanley, yet while it had seemed awfully long for the former head of the Meluastea, that pathetic figure, Shirou realised that the list of crimes was likely too short for Grover.

The redhead could feel in his bones that Grover had done far more horrendous things than anyone in the hall could imagine, and in light of that, it was almost soothing that the man was sure to be sentenced to death. In fact, perhaps Shirou should ensure himself that Grover died as soon as possible.

It wasn't something he'd ever envisioned himself doing, planning to hasten someone's death, but here he was, doing it all the same.

It wasn't proper for a Hero of Justice, but when faced with something so unnatural, certain rules had to be broken.

"-As well as ordering numerous massacres of uninvolved civilians." The senior judge eventually ended the list, before looking at Grover. "How do you plead?"

"Is there even a point to that question?" Grover asked in an almost bored voice, and Shirou shivered at the sound of it, at the darkness that was hidden within. "Let's not make this too big a deal. I plead guilty."

"Then you are hereby sentenced to death!" Perhaps the judge did feel a bit of what Shirou was feeling, or otherwise noticed Grover's wickedness, for he sounded far more vicious now than when he'd passed the verdict on Stanley. "You shall be beheaded by the sword. Your remains will be burned, and your possessions will meet the same fate. Your achievements and awards will be revoked, and your name struck from official records, never to be mentioned again. Take him away!"

The crowd didn't even bother whispering anymore, and conversations erupted all over the hall as Grover was hauled away again.

"He needs to be killed as soon as possible." Shirou muttered involuntarily, and after giving him a look of surprise, Lady Barthomeloi nodded her assent.

"I will see it done before sunset." She promised him, and Shirou nodded in gratitude.

"You have no idea what you have unleashed today." The voice of Grover Meluastea interrupted their talk however, and both Shirou and Lady Barthomeloi turned towards the stage again, where they saw Grover looking back at them directly. "Enjoy your victory, Lorelei, while it lasts. Soon, you will find that we were only the vanguard. There are things out there that are far more dangerous than any Magus."

"I look forward to it." Lady Barthomeloi didn't smile, but the corners of her lips turned up ever so slightly in a by now familiar sign that she was amused. "Perhaps they can provide me with a proper fight, something you couldn't do."

Grover sneered, but wasn't able to say anything more before the guards forced him out of the hall and closed the doors behind them.

"Bring in Torben Meluastea!"

"Let's see." Rin mused as she unfolded another letter, her eyes scanning the contents, before she grinned ever so slightly and started from the top again, this time reading slowly and meticulously.

Currently, she, Sakura, and Ayako were sitting at the dining table inside the Emiya-estate, each of them with a cup of tea. It was early in the morning, only a few hours after they'd broken into Carlton Paris' house, and right now, they were going over the letters they had found inside the secret compartment in the man's bedroom.

In those letters, they'd found a wealth of information.

There were names of course, from women who had used Paris' services, but also dates of appointments, the rates that Paris had been charging, and even miscellaneous facts about the women's lives if they had wanted to share it with the man. All of that and more could be found in the letters, which also explained why Paris had locked them away so thoroughly.

Information alone wasn't what made Rin grin however. If it had been useful information, she would have nodded to herself and made a note of it. Since she didn't do that however, there had to be something else about the current letter that she liked.

Sakura had a good idea of what that something was, and her idea was confirmed when she looked over and found that the letter had been written by Sumida Gina.

Sumida Gina was the only daughter of a very rich silver trader. She held a large share in her father's company and stood to inherit should her father ever die. She was essentially a stereotypical heiress –rich, pampered, a daddy's girl, destined to take over the business– and the main thing on her mind, at least in the letters she'd written to Paris, seemed to be how difficult it was for her to get herself a proper husband.

She had hired Carlton Paris quite often, not because she wasn't willing to try and build a steady relationship with another man, but because the men she selected inevitably turned out to be trash. Sakura had heard of such women before, the kind that somehow always ended up with villains and low lives even though they themselves were morally decent, but this was the first time she 'seen' one in real life.

Anyhow, Sumida Gina had no luck with men, and she was only too happy to let Carlton Paris know about every failed date and every breakup she'd experienced. It almost seemed as if he were her therapist instead of her gigolo.

However, complaints about men weren't what had interested Rin so much as to become absorbed in Sumida Gina's letters. The woman complained often, yes, but those were only half of the letters she had sent in total. The other half contained detailed descriptions of every single sexual act Sumida was planning on committing once she met up with Paris, which was, all three girls agreed, much more interesting than endless complaints.

It also helped that Sumida Gina was a very talented writer, easily good enough to go professional, which meant her more indiscrete letters were very much a treat for any teenage girl with at least a degree of interest in the other sex.

Sakura had read several of the letters as well, and she was certainly planning on reading the rest too, if only for inspiration.

But that was something for later. Right now, they had a job to do.

"Nee-san." She said sternly, shocking her sister out of her reading. "Please put the letter away for now. We are searching for clues."

"Ah, right. I was just, uh, sampling it." Rin smiled sheepishly, before folding the piece of paper and placing it on the pile of letters that didn't hold anything of interest for their investigation. Then, she picked up another letter. "Ah, this one has a new name. Nagao Harumi."

"Nagao Harumi?!" Ayako's head shot up from her own letter to give Rin an incredulous look. "You're joking!"

"I'm not, that's really the name at the bottom." Rin shook her head, turning the letter around so Ayako could see for herself. "See for yourself."

"I don't believe this…" Ayako whispered when she saw the name, slumping in her chair. "By the gods."

"Who's Nagao Harumi?" Sakura asked, feeling a bit lost.

"Oh, only one of the country's most famous and beloved idols." Ayako snarked, giving the sisters an exasperated look. "Though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you two don't know about her, you philistines."

"Ahaha, sorry." Sakura apologised sheepishly.

"I don't care much for idols." Rin was not apologetic at all, giving a dismissive wave of her hand.

"She's also a talented actress and a supermodel." Ayako added, before scratching her head. "But man, I'm really surprised someone like that would hire a gigolo."

"Maybe it's not really her." Rin suggested, taking another look at the letter. "Perhaps the writer merely wanted to flatter herself by taking on the identity of this supermodel of yours."

"Perhaps." Ayako nodded slowly. "Still, if it really is Nagao Harumi…"

"Then what?" Sakura asked.

"Huh?" Ayako shot her a confused look.

"'If it really is Nagao Harumi…' That's what you said. What did you mean?" Sakura clarified. "What if it's really Nagao Harumi?"

"Then we absolutely, definitely, positively cannot let anyoneknow about her relationship with Paris-san." Ayako stressed, slamming her hand on the table for extra effect. "She would be ruined."

"Well, we weren't going to reveal anything about this whole matter to anyone anyway, so that shouldn't be too hard." Rin huffed, going over the letter. "Also, this letter is pretty innocent. Nagao-san just asks for a dinner-date, followed by an evening of watching 'Star Wars' together."

"Even so." Ayako was adamant that they put in the extra effort to keep Nagao's association with Paris a secret, and Sakura and Rin, not having any particular problem with that, agreed.

Ultimately, they spent a few hours going over all the letters, making a list of names as well as trying to find out as much as they could about the women on that list, until they were disturbed by the sunrise.

"It's dawn already?" Rin looked with wide eyes at the rising sun. "We have been at this all night?"

"Seems so." Ayako nodded, suddenly feeling a strong urge to yawn as she realised they'd pulled an all-nighter. "Well, I think we're just about done with these letters. What do you think about grabbing a few hours of sleep before we continue the investigation in the afternoon?"

"I couldn't agree more." Sakura said happily.

"I agree as well." Rin nodded, suppressing a yawn of her own once she'd gotten over the shock of seeing the sun rising already. "Could I use your guest room?"

"Of course. It's all ready for you, Nee-san." It had become such a common occurrence for Rin to stay the night with them that Sakura just kept one of the guest rooms ready for her big sister all the time these days. "I have washed the clothes you left here last time too, and the pyjamas as well. You can find them in the closet."

"Thank you very much, Sakura." Rin smiled gratefully, before she got up from the table. "Then please excuse me, I really need my sleep."

The black-haired girl left the dining room, and Sakura then turned to Ayako.

"Do you think there's a chance we can convince her to move in with us permanently?"

"No." Ayako's response was very clear and entirely blunt. "Rin's too attached to her house. It's been in her family for generations after all, so permanently moving out is too big a step for her. In fact, it's better that you don't even suggest it."

"In that case, I suppose we'll have to settle for having her 'stay the night' as often as possible." Sakura relented, her beaming smile unmarred.

"Oh, I imagine it is entirely possible to have her spend most of her time here, as long as we don't actually say out loud that she has moved in." Ayako said wisely, rubbing her chin. "Rin's a bit peculiar like that."

"I suppose she is." Sakura smiled.

Her big sister had quite a few quirks indeed, but the plum-haired girl didn't mind. Most of the time, they only made her more adorable.

The families of the Democratic Faction arrived in the courtroom just as the twenty-first trial of the day was wrapped up and Karen Meluastea was sentenced to death by hanging. They were several hours too late, but rather than entering silently, to not disturb the other people present, they made a ruckus as they came in, loudly talking and stamping their feet, being as disruptive as possible without resorting to violence.

What was the use of defiance after all if you didn't go all the way? If the Democrats had arrived too late but had entered silently and without fuzz, the whole gesture of purposefully coming late would have practically been for nothing. It would have been naught but some empty posturing, and the Aristocratic Faction would have had every right to laugh in their faces.

As such, they acted out as much as they could, to show they wouldn't be messed with.

Inorai was also among them, happily chattering away with as loud a voice as she could manage, though she didn't stamp her feet, as her old bones couldn't handle that anymore.

She walked onto the balcony assigned to the Valualeta-family, accompanied by her grandson and one of her nephews. Once they were there, they continued talking for a while, but when the next accused was brought inside, they fell silent.

There was no need to provoke the Ancient Spells that had been woven into the Courtroom after all. Those spells took proper courtroom decorum very seriously, and since they were just constructs, defiance against them was useless.

Her grandson and nephew immediately sat down in their chairs and focused on the next trial, just like most of the other Democrats in attendance, but Inorai hung back a bit, staying in the shadows as much as she could, which allowed her to observe the other balconies, in particular that of the Barthomeloi, without being seen herself.

She wasn't at all surprised to find that Lorelei Barthomeloi was the only member of her family present there. The Barthomeloi were an extremely reclusive lot, who almost never stepped out into the world, save for the one member whom they sent to be Vice-Director. It was unlikely that they'd ever break their self-imposed isolation, even to witness the fall of a Ruling Family.

In lieu of family-members, Lorelei Barthomeloi was flanked on one side by her ever-loyal shadow, Mirei Montmorency, and on the other by Shirou Fujimaru, her new-found pet-Sorcerer.

Inorai didn't dare look at him for too long, in case he might notice, but she did sweep her gaze from left to right a few times, passing over Fujimaru every time to form a picture of him.

Not that there was much to see. At the moment, he seemed like a normal teenage boy, desperately trying to keep his expression neutral –though without much success– sitting up straight as he watched one death sentence after the other be passed.

He didn't look at all like a Sorcerer, someone who could destroy the Magus Association merely by existing, but that actually only made it scarier. At least Touko Aozaki and Aoko Aozaki actually looked the part of ridiculously powerful women, to say nothing of Zelretch, but Fujimaru really just seemed to be nothing but a stereotypical boy next door.

It made Inorai wonder what purpose he had for disguising himself like that. Did he have some kind of grand plan that required him to be unassuming all the time? Was this merely a body-double who was out of his league? Or was she just overthinking it and was this nothing more than his preferred style?

Inorai didn't know. All she knew for sure was that Fujimaru didn't look like much at all.

"From this angle, he doesn't look like much."

Inorai's thoughts were echoed by McDonell, who stepped onto her balcony, his eyes also focused on Fujimaru, though he too was trying to be as discreet about it as possible.

"Indeed." She replied shortly. "For all intents and purposes, he looks like a child."

"A child with the ability to destroy us all." McDonell grumbled.

"Come now, McDonell, there's no need to exaggerate. Destroy the Magus Association perhaps, but 'us all' goes a bit far." She chided him lightly, doing a rather good job at pretending she hadn't been thinking the exact same thing only a minute before, if she did say so herself.

"Don't patronise me, Inorai." McDonell sighed, without any heat in his voice. "You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do." Inorai nodded, before looking at the current trial, watching on as Julian Colby, second cousin of Jack Colby, was sentenced to an astronomical fine for his crimes. "Regardless of his appearance though, he presents a massive problem. Have you thought of any options to mitigate the threat he represents?"

"Outside of hoping that he leaves soon? No, not really." McDonell admitted, also pointedly looking away from the redhead now. "Frankly, whenever I try to think of a way to handle Fujimaru, all I can envision is a situation similar to when Zelretch still visited the Clocktower. We hope he doesn't stay for long and celebrate when he leaves. Damage-control basically, it's all we can manage."

"Barthomeloi managed a whole lot more than that." Inorai stated, looking again how the boy was seated to the Vice-Director's left. "She's found a way to control him."

"Do you have any idea how?"

"None whatsoever. I have been thinking about it all night, but I struggle to think of anything a Magus, no matter how powerful, could offer to a Sorcerer, and neither can I think of any other reliable way of keeping one under your thumb."

"Then it seems Barthomeloi was smarter than you." McDonell teased her, his smile removing the sting from his words.

"Indeed she was." Inorai grumbled. "In all honesty, it torments me to know that she's likely feeling very smug, having managed to one-up the rest of the Clocktower like this. I half-expect her to turn to us any moment now to stick out her tongue."

"You think she knows he is a Sorcerer?"

"That is extremely likely at this point. Look at the placement of their chairs. Fujimaru is seated to her left, but not behind her. Essentially, she is treating him as her equal. I do not think she would have done that if she still thought him to be nothing more than a powerful Magus with a few unusual talents."

"Then we'll have to account for that in our plans for the future." McDonell crossed his arms, looking upwards in thought. "Then again, I must say it's a pleasant change of pace to have an actual check on a Sorcerer's power for once."

"Oh?"

"You know what I mean. Zelretch is an uncontrollable terror, and Aozaki is uncontrollable destruction. If Barthomeloi can prevent Fujimaru from becoming like them, I'd say it's a victory for us all."

"I guess so." Inorai hadn't yet considered that, but she had to admit McDonell made a good point.

For a moment, there was silence between the two, and then Inorai looked at her watch.

"We have been here for fifteen minutes now, and in that time, three people have been sentenced already." She remarked, looking at the stage of the courtroom, where Jolanta de Vries had just been sentenced to death by beheading. "They are really hurrying this along, aren't they?"

"I believe they have more than a thousand people to put on trial. Some speed is required if this isn't to last for a month." Despite Inorai's sudden change in subjects, McDonell wasn't at all caught off guard, answering readily. "Also, from the little I have heard, these cases are almost the very definition of open-and-shut."

"With so much evidence stacked against them, any form of protest or defence is a lost cause." Inorai agreed, watching with something akin to glee as Christian Burgess was sentenced to death. That man had been so odious that Inorai doubted anyone would be upset about his death. "I imagine that the few cases that are not so clear cut will take longer."

"Perhaps, but please don't change the subject, Inorai." McDonell sighed. "We were talking about the amount of control that the Vice Director has over Fujimaru. Do you have any doubts about that control?"

"Like I said, I am unable to discover the method by which she managed to bring him to heel." Inorai admitted, wrenching her eyes away from the trial just as Christian Burgess' son, a spineless wretch if there ever was one, was sentenced to a fine. "It's very unlikely to have been blackmail or threats, as that doesn't match his demeanour, it cannot have been payment either, as I cannot imagine that a Magus would have anything a Sorcerer could not easily obtain, and I lack a proper backstory on Fujimaru, making any other factors nothing but guesswork."

"Perhaps Barthomeloi seduced him." McDonell suggested, a corner of his mouth curling up.

"Come off it. That woman, successfully pulling off a honey-trap? Unlikely in the extreme."

"Then perhaps Fujimaru's motives originate from his hero-complex." McDonell's voice turned serious again. "Was it not you who told me that the boy is unnaturally concerned with the fate of innocents? Perhaps he has decided that following Barthomeloi is the surest route to saving and protecting as many people as possible."

"I have considered this, believe it or not, but again, I cannot imagine that a Barthomeloi would be able to muster any sort of care for bystanders." Inorai huffed. "There is a reason they are called 'ice-statues' and 'despots', and it isn't because they are so morally upright and upstanding."

"Still, we shouldn't entirely discount the possibility."

"I won't, don't worry about that." Inorai sighed, before deciding her legs were getting tired. "Do you mind if I sit down?"

"Not at all." McDonell smiled gallantly, and he offered her his arm, before bringing her to her chair on the balcony.

As the trial of Roland Meluastea was just reaching its climax, no one paid any attention to the two of them, not even Inorai's grandson and nephew, and that suited Inorai just fine as she sat down, groaning in relief. She wasn't the youngest anymore after all.

"If we want to find out how Barthomeloi controls Fujimaru, we'll have to rely on young Melvin to bring us more information." McDonell then continued their conversation. "Until then, any further discussion is useless."

"Quite." Inorai huffed in agreement. "As such, we should make sure not to mention this information to anyone."

"If it gets out that Fujimaru is a you-know-what, chaos will surely erupt." McDonell agreed. "Fortunately, that particular secret is only known to a few, all of whom are tight-lipped. Fujimaru won't talk, Barthomeloi won't either, nor you and I, or those three girls who witnessed his Sorcery. I believe that is everyone."

"Touko Aozaki knows as well." Inorai corrected him, her tone sour. "She was the one who originally informed me."

"Right." McDonell pursed his lips. "What did she say on the matter?"

"She promised not to tell anyone else."

"And do you believe her?"

"No." Inorai shook her head. "Not for a moment."

"H-He's a Sorcerer?" Byron Valualeta Iselma, head of the Iselma-family, whispered in shock, his handsome face paling until he was as white as a sheet. "A practitioner of the Third?"

"Yes." Touko Aozaki nodded slowly, her lips set in a grim line. "That is what I concluded from the few pieces of the puzzle I was able to gather. Shirou Fujimaru has achieved at least some form of mastery over the Heaven's Feel."

"That is incredible." Lord Byron muttered, stumbling backwards as the strength disappeared from his legs, forcing him to lean against the wall behind him. "Incredible."

"Quite so." Touko turned her gaze away from the stumbling man, and instead looked outside, gazing out over the Iselma-lands.

As she had told Inorai, Touko had left the Clocktower in a hurry the previous day, practically fleeing the scene, and she hadn't stopped running until she arrived in a very isolated place in Scotland, where the chance of encountering the newest Sorcerer was infinitesimally small. That place was the territory of the Iselma-family.

She had chosen that place because the lord of the family was an old ally of hers, and because it was located in the middle of nowhere.

The territory of the Iselma-family consisted of a large piece of land, most of it covered in forests. It wasn't very interesting from a Magus' point of view –no leylines or ancient burial sites or anything of the sort– but it was quiet and tranquil, and that had been enough for the Iselma to decide they wanted to claim it.

On their land, they had built two large towers. Since the Iselma regularly dabbled in Astromancy, those towers had been placed in such a way that one of them allowed optimal study of the sun and the other allowed optimal study of the moon.

As such, the towers had been named 'Tower of the Sun' and 'Tower of the Moon' respectively.

Lord Byron Iselma lived in the Tower of the Moon, together with his daughters, apprentices, and servants, and as such, that was where Touko and the lord were having their discussion, in a small room all the way at the top of the tower. It was the most secure place in the territory, and Touko furiously hoped it would be enough to keep them hidden.

"Why are you telling me this?" Byron eventually asked, after he'd regained his bearing. "It is shocking news, definitely, and I am happy to know, but I can't think of any reason why you would go out of your way to tell me about the existence of a new Sorcerer."

"Byron." Touko smiled at him, removing her glasses to make the smile more sincere. "Is it not enough that we are allies?"

"No." The lord's voice was calm, though his expression was anything but. "Even if our alliance was enough for you to go out of your way to warn me, and that is a big if, then you would have sent a note at most."

"I would never write such sensitive information down anywhere, you know that."

"Alright, another way then, but you definitely wouldn't have come all the way out here." Byron tugged at the collar of his jacket, allowed Touko to see the drops of nervous sweat that were going down his neck. "You want something, don't you?"

"Yes." Touko nodded, deciding to cut to the chase. "I indeed want something."

"What is it?" Lord Byron asked, his tongue flitting out for a moment to lick his dry lips. "I owe you a favour, Touko, I am more than aware of that, but I will not be making any moves against a True Magician."

"Against him?" Touko smiled widely, trying to convey a sense of amusement. "No, not against him, Byron. Rather, I want you to ask him for help."

"For help?" Byron blinked in confusion. "Please explain what you mean by that."

"Let me ask you a few questions first." Touko said, putting her glasses back on. "Are you still trying to reach the Root by attaining the ultimate form of beauty?"

"Of course." Byron nodded immediately. "I won't stop with that project until I die or finish it, and I would have told the whole wide world if I had finished already."

The Iselma-family were avid practitioners of Creation Magecraft, just like the Valualeta-family, of which the Iselma were a branch. Unlike the Valualeta however, who had no limits or preferences on what they tried to create, the Iselma were narrowly focused on beauty.

Beauty was a very strange concept. It was as shifting as the tides, and completely depended on culture and personal taste. As such, there was no such thing as absolute beauty. Absolute beauty was, by definition, an impossibility.

However, the Iselma-family had discovered long ago that there were always points of commonality within the definitions of beauty. No matter the culture or the tribe, there was always a red line that was the same everywhere.

They reasoned that it had to be possible to follow that red line. They believed that if one did so, it could lead to the ultimate beauty, something that every human in existence, in the past, present, and future, would consider the most beautiful they could imagine.

The impossible made possible. An absolute beauty. The ultimate, objective beauty that appealed to all of humanity.

Such a thing would be a sure path to the Root. It was a way into the collective unconsciousness of humanity, and thus, a way that led to Akasha.

The Iselma had spent centuries trying to create that ultimate beauty, but although they had made great progress, they hadn't yet achieved it. Whatever they created was always mind-bogglingly beautiful, but it was not perfect. Not by a long shot.

Time was running out however, and the family was at a critical point of its existence. After centuries of research, the amount of knowledge that they had gathered and the number of experiments they'd done should, according to their calculations, be sufficient now to create their ultimate beauty.

However, the Deterioration of Magecraft loomed above them like an inescapable shadow, one that threatened to swallow them whole. With the way things looked right now, this was the last generation during which the ultimate beauty could be created. In another twenty years, it would have become impossible.

This was the critical juncture. It was do or die for the Iselma-family, and from what Touko had heard, Byron was leaning very close to the 'die'-option.

But those were just rumours she'd picked up somewhere on the road. She'd far prefer to hear about Byron's exploits from the man himself. He might surprise her.

"Tell me, Byron, how is the project going?" She thus asked, before cocking her head to the side when his nervous sweating intensified. "Not all that well then?"

"We are working hard. Diadra and Estella are progressing well." He blustered immediately, puffing himself up to look confident, though no one with even slightly functioning eyes would have been fooled for a second by it.

"Yes, your daughters." Touko nevertheless indulged him a bit. "How are Diadra and Estella? It's been some time since I saw them."

Diadra and Estella, Byron's daughters, were Byron's latest and most successful research-subjects. Ever since they had reached twelve years of age, they had undergone countless procedures and alterations that were aimed at making them more beautiful.

As Byron said, they were making good progress with that, to the point where they had received the titles of 'Princess of Gold' and 'Princess of Silver' respectively once their appearances had passed the limits of what normal, unaltered humans could reach.

Now, some might think that they were being abused by their father, forced to endure the horrific treatments that made them more beautiful, but nothing was less true. In truth, they were even more motivated than their father, and unhesitatingly threw themselves into the procedures that they had often created themselves.

Even Touko was sometimes impressed by their zeal. Those two would do anything to achieve their family's purpose, even if that meant that they had to cast away their humanity.

Compared to them, Byron was a cautious slowpoke.

"Diadra and Estella are doing very well indeed." The middle-aged lord boasted, standing up a bit straighter, actual pride filling his voice. "They are making a lot of headway every day."

"But not enough." Touko finished for him, a cruel smile on her face, enjoying how he flinched. "You aren't going to make it, Byron. You will die before you can reach your goal."

"That is what you think!" He protested, balling his hands into fists. "I am certain that-"

"You aren't going to make it." She repeated, in exactly the same tone of voice, and this time, he did not argue, looking down at the ground in frustration. "Not as you are now."

"…Did you only come here to mock me, Touko?" Byron hissed from between clenched teeth.

"Of course not." Touko scoffed. "Have you such a low opinion of me? I have not the time nor the inclination to mock others."

"Then what is it that you are doing right now?"

"Provoking you, of course." Touko beamed at him, taking him aback somewhat. "So that you will agree to ask Shirou Fujimaru for his help with your project."

"That again?!" Byron's nervous liplicking intensified considerably, and sweat started pouring down his forehead as well as his neck.

"Yes, Byron, that again. I want you to solicit the help of a Sorcerer." Touko confirmed, her beaming smile remaining in place. "Think about it. What better way to breathe life into your project again than by asking the aid of someone who has begun to master the Heaven's Feel?"

"I cannot ask for the help of a Sorcerer-"

"I am calling in that favour you owe me." Touko interrupted him, before lifting a hand and clenching it. "Don't you dare deny it to me."

"H-He wouldn't come even if we asked him to!" Byron, seeing that she wasn't going to budge despite his pleas, tried a different approach, desperately making up excuses. "The Iselma have no relations with him! Fujimaru would be fully in his rights to ignore my request!"

"Offer him payment then."

"You know perfectly well there is nothing I can offer to a Sorcerer. They can't be bought!"

"Of course they can be bought." Touko scoffed, her lips twisting into an unsightly smile. "My sister is a Sorcerer, and I can assure you, she can easily be bought. Everyone can be bought. You just need the right price."

"And I presume you know what this right price is?" Byron asked in a challenging tone, before gritting his teeth when Touko's eyes twinkled. "Then why don't you hire him yourself? Your craft is close to the Third, isn't it? Undoubtedly, there's plenty you can learn from him."

"That my Craft is so close to the Third is exactly the reason I cannot deal with him directly." Touko's smile didn't leave her lips, but it suddenly became very brittle. "Fujimaru might not like how I operate at the edge of his Sorcery. He might consider it a mockery."

"Or he might not care and be glad to help you." Byron pointed out, still searching for a way out of Touko's request. "Sorcerers are an unpredictable lot. You never know, not until you try."

"It's still much easier to have you act as my liaison." Touko responded, before placing a hand under her chin and giving Byron a coquettish look. "Tell you what, Byron, if you do this for me, you can consider the favour you owe me as paid, and I will owe you a favour in return. How does that sound?"

A favour from a woman who was a hairbreadth away from being a Sorcerer herself. That was not nothing, and no sane Magus would ever refuse, no matter the cost.

"…" Byron's brow scrunched in thought, his natural, reasonable fear of Sorcerers battling with his greed, before he looked Touko straight in the eyes. "I need more details about your plan before I can agree to anything."

"So you'll do it?"

"If your plan is sound." Byron rubbed his brow, likely to stave off a headache. "But from what I heard, the trials of the Meluastea have just begun. I don't think Fujimaru's going to come here any time soon no matter what we offer him."

"You do not have to invite him immediately. As long as you manage to lure Fujimaru to your territory at some point within the next seventeen months, I will be content."

"That's an awfully specific deadline." Byron remarked, but he said no more, knowing that Touko was not going to reveal anything about her plans and designs.

She was much too tight-lipped for that, he knew from experience. She would only tell him what she thought he needed to know, and that was that.

"As for the reward you will use to lure Fujimaru here, this is it." Touko reached into her handbag and retrieved a large, long parcel, wrapped in a linen cloth. "Take a look."

She unwrapped it, revealing the contents, and Byron's mouth fell open yet again.

"These are-!"

Waver's current mood was difficult to describe.

He supposed he should have been triumphant, proud, patting himself on the back, and other such self-satisfied emotions. He was looking at the culmination of an awful lot of work after all, the finishing touch on his greatest adventure since the Grail War.

However, sitting here, in the Modern Magecraft Theories-balcony of the courtroom, watching as criminal after criminal was convicted, wasn't nearly as enjoyable as it should have been.

Yes, it was good of course that these people were no longer free to harm innocents, but Waver's good feelings about their downfall had already been spent during the purge itself. These trials were really just administrative work, and after you had seen ten of them, you had seen all of them.

Every trial went roughly the same.

The criminal was brought in, the senior judge announced the crimes they were accused of, the attorneys and prosecutors gave a few speeches, and then the verdict was passed. It was repetitive, dull, and the whole thing was obviously scripted.

Not the most enervating stuff, he had to say.

Not everyone agreed though. Both Flat and Melvin –the latter having invited himself to Waver's balcony on account of them being such good friends– were having the time of their lives, watching with glee at the reactions of those who had been sentenced.

For those two, the more emotional and desperate the reaction of the condemned was, the better.

Grey and Marianne on the other hand were not enjoying themselves at all. They were holding a whispered conversation together, trying to distract themselves and each other from the sight of death sentence after death sentence being passed, and if it hadn't been for the fact that he had responsibilities as a lord, Waver would have gladly joined them in their conversation.

He cast his gaze upwards after yet another man was sentenced to death by hanging, at the balcony of Mineralogy, finding that Reines, Delilah, Gladys, and even the Ancient Chairman were watching the proceedings from there. The other elders were conspicuously absent.

For a moment, Waver wondered what their absence meant, but then he put it out of his mind. The squabbles between the elders were not his business. He'd just let them sort things out themselves and see who got out on top in the end.

"Bring in Rudolph Meluastea." The senior judge then announced, and Waver tuned back into the trial, surprised at the name.

The Meluastea, being the leaders of the criminal syndicate, had all been sentenced at the very beginning of the day, all of them to death. Lady Barthomeloi and Lady Montmorency wanted to get that over with as soon as possible, so there could be no escape attempts or other trouble. There shouldn't have been a single member of that family left at this point.

However, Rudolph had apparently been spared so far, and Waver wondered what made him so special that he would come so late.

"Rudolph Meluastea." The judge said once Rudolph, a younger man with a rotund form and nervous eyes, was brought in and seated. "You stand accused of numerous crimes; Aiding and abetting forbidden research, fraud while filing personal expenses, fraud while filing-"

That was where Waver stopped paying attention again, and his eyes moved over to the balcony of the Trambellio-family. McDonell Elrod Trambellio was seated on his chair like a king on his throne, his face carved from stone and his back straight. His presence was of course nothing compared to that of Archer, Rider, and especially Saber, but for a modern man, it was pretty impressive.

Nothing less could be expected though from the man who headed the Democratic Faction. His countenance and behaviour had to be perfect at all times, especially now that the Aristocratic Faction had gained so much more power than his own. He couldn't afford to show weakness, not to his enemies and certainly not to his allies.

Waver couldn't have done it, 'it' being remaining so calm under such immense pressure, but McDonell did. The man was robust, confident, and extremely capable. Waver didn't doubt he was already concocting a hundred schemes behind those neutral eyes, and thinking up a thousand plots, all to cripple to the Aristocratic Faction and bring it back down to its old level.

He likely wouldn't have that difficult a time either doing that. Now that Waver had become an important man, he was allowed, or rather even expected, to attend the meetings of the Aristocratic Faction, and because of that, he was perfectly aware that at least half of the Aristocratic families were busily working to undermine Lady Barthomeloi.

It might seem foolish and counterproductive, but in the minds of those families, they were just protecting their freedom and independence. For all their hierarchical principles and beliefs, they very much disliked the idea of someone having absolute power over them, and that meant that Lady Barthomeloi's recent rise in power and influence had made their hackles rise.

To put it simply, they feared Lady Barthomeloi would use her newfound power and influence to bring them further under her heel, and thus they hampered her, uncaring about the damage their actions would do to the Aristocratic Faction as a whole.

That wasn't Waver's problem though. As long as things didn't spiral out of control so far that a war would start, he didn't care about power plays and nasty schemes. He was far too busy with his actual job to have time for those things.

"However." The senior judge spoke up after he finished announcing all of Rudolph's crimes, immediately drawing Waver's attention back to the stage again, as for the first time so far, the judge went off-script. "Rudolph Meluastea has rendered valuable services during the Great Purge and provided crucial information to the investigators."

…That was an extremely blatant admission that a deal had been made between Rudolph and Lady Barthomeloi.

"As such, Rudolph Meluastea is hereby cleared of all charges."

For a few seconds, everything was silent, so much so that one could have heard a pin drop, and then the hall erupted in shouting and screaming. Some people were complaining, others were asking confused questions, again others grumbled about biased courts –as if that wasn't how the Clocktower always worked– and some people went as far as to cheer.

Even the lords and their followers in their balconies leaned towards each other to discuss this development, and even though they spoke in hushed tones, the subject of their conversation was undoubtedly the same as the subject of the screaming people below.

It was a very surprising development, and it left everyone with numerous burning questions.

Now that one person had been acquitted, how many others would be?

Would the Meluastea-family survive after all now that there was a member who went free and unpunished?

If the Meluastea did survive, would they be allowed to keep the Department of Archaeology?

How much power, wealth, and influence would Rudolph be allowed to keep?

No one knew anymore, and the chaos was spreading fast.

In the meantime, Rudolph Meluastea was freed of his chains, and then gently led out of the courtroom by the guards, a dazed look in his eyes, as if he couldn't quite comprehend what was going on.

"Order! Order in the court!" The bailiff roared after the rotund man had left the hall, striking his staff against the ground several times. "Order!"

But there was no order. People kept talking and shouting, and eventually, after trying and failing to restore order for several more moments, the bailiff walked to the judges to discuss the situation with them.

As for Waver himself, well, he didn't think it was possible to control the crowd right now. After more than fifty convictions in a row, followed by an utterly unexpected acquittal, people needed to get the stress out of their system.

Lady Barthomeloi clearly agreed, as did Fujimaru, or either of them would have put a stop to the ruckus by now.

"A forty-minute break shall commence." The bailiff announced after his quick discussion with the judges. "That is all."

So they had chosen to pause the trials. A wise decision, though Waver hoped forty minutes was indeed enough to let most people calm down again. Then again, even if it wasn't, Lady Barthomeloi and Fujimaru were sure to interfere to restore order.

You could say a lot about those two, but you couldn't accuse them of ever being overly passive.

"Lord El-Melloi?"

The soft, melodious voice sounded from just outside the balcony, and Yvette and Svin, who'd posted themselves at the balcony's entrance like impromptu guards, immediately stepped aside to reveal the newcomer.

Waver clenched his teeth when he saw it was Adashino.

"What do you want?" He asked rudely, not in the mood to be polite to her.

Actually, now that he thought about it, he was never in the mood to be polite to her.

She was just such a bother.

"Nothing." Adashino replied, smiling playfully. "I'm just following orders."

"Whose orders?"

"Lady Montmorency's orders. She told me and a few others to keep an eye on the balconies to ensure none of the Ruling Lords try anything foolish while the trials are ongoing." Adashino put on her trademark smile, practically dripping with innocence, but to Waver, it only made her look like a witch.

"You're here to keep an eye on me?" Waver raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Does Policies consider me a potential enemy?"

"Not at all, my dear lord." Adashino's smile became even wider. "I am here because I wanted to."

"Why could you possibly want to be here?" Waver felt stumped, but he didn't let it show on his face, fully aware that the woman was purposefully trying to confuse and befuddle him. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction of seeing her attempt succeed.

"For you, of course." She told him, her voice frank and open, before she looked around his balcony. "But since there are no problems here and I am still on duty, I should be moving on. Thank you for your time, Lord El-Melloi."

She bowed to him, which was a first, before turning around and walking away, injecting the tiniest bit of swing into her hips, just enough to draw Waver's eye for a split second.

Truly, she was a witch. No pun intended.

Back in Fuyuki-City, Ayako, Sakura, and Rin had just begun the next stage of their investigation: Find the women who'd hired Carlton Paris and interrogate them in order to obtain more details about the man's life.

At Ayako's insistence, they had chosen to start with Nagao Harumi, the idol and supermodel. The brunette was a big fan of hers, and now that an opportunity to meet her had presented itself, she wasn't going to let it pass her by.

Rin had no problem with that –they were going to visit all the women regardless, so they might as well start with Ayako's favourite– though she considered the chance they'd be allowed to meet with Nagao very small, almost non-existent really. Nagao's staff and bodyguards would surely show them the door immediately, bar a liberal application of Hypnosis.

But alas, she'd been mistaken. In the end, the biggest challenge in meeting Nagao wasn't the staff, the bodyguards, or even the personnel of the hotel she was currently staying at, but getting past the crowd of fans milling about in front of the hotel's entrance.

There had to be hundreds of them. Rin couldn't count them all, nor did she even bother trying, but if it were less than three hundred, she'd be surprised. The fans were all male, none of them above thirty years of age, and all of them decked out in the most embarrassing outfits imaginable, with Nagao Harumi's face pasted on every inch of their clothes, often surrounded by hearts.

They meant it as a show of support and appreciation, Rin understood that much, but in her opinion, they miserably failed at conveying that, and instead just came off as horribly creepy, like an army of stalkers who felt entitled to their idol's time.

Frankly, it reminded Rin a bit of her own situation at school, though dialled up to eleven, and she subconsciously started glaring at the crowd, seeing in them the representation of her own stalkers.

They didn't take long to notice.

"H-Hey, Aniki, d-don't look, but there's a really pretty girl staring at us in disgust." One of the younger boys whispered to his older friend, looking at Rin with wide eyes.

"O-Oh, w-wow." The older friend whispered back, immediately turning around to look at Rin too. "C-Control yourself, d-don't let her know it's turning you on."

"I'm doing my best, Aniki, but she's so pretty!"

"W-What a hime!" Another boy breathed, also staring at Rin. "I want her to step on me."

"What about her friend though? That purple-haired girl totally looks like a dandere!"

"I want to cuddle her!"

"I don't care about a dandere! Did you see the tomboy?! I bet she could wrestle me into submission in under a minute!"

"I want the three of them to make me their slave!"

"M-Me too!"

"I don't believe this." Ayako sighed, covering her face in embarrassment. "What are those guys doing off the internet?"

"They are certainly… open about their desires." Sakura's mouth pulled into a sour grin. "How unattractive."

"How pathetic, you mean." Rin scoffed, placing her hands on her hips. "You are both being much too kind to these ridiculous cretins. Clearly, they are doomed to be alone forever."

"Damn, Rin. That's harsh." Ayako laughed uncomfortably. "Eh, maybe they'll mature as they grow older?"

"I hope so, for their sake. Now, let's go. There's no point in standing around here so they can gawk at us." Rin said, before marching straight ahead, right at the crowd. Before, she'd felt at least a trace of sympathy for them, as they were clearly trying their best to support their idol, but now, disgust was all she felt. "You lot! Get out of our way!"

To their credit, the crowd immediately parted before her, giving her a wide berth as she walked towards the hotel, followed quickly by Sakura and Ayako.

Of course, the boys were all still whispering, but Rin didn't pay attention to them anymore. Undoubtedly, it was just more perverted nonsense that she'd rather not hear.

"I wish we had Shirou with us." Ayako groaned softly, her bright-red face indicating that, unlike Rin, she was in fact listening to the whispers.

"We hardly need him. I can handle these low lives myself if they get frisky." Rin countered stiffly, though privately, she had to admit it would indeed have been nice to have Emiya-kun with them, if not for protection, then at least for emotional support.

Eventually, they reached the hotel without issue, and after telling the receptionist that they wanted to speak with Nagao Harumi, they were referred to her chief bodyguard.

"Nagao-san does not receive visitors at this hour, even if they are female." The towering man said neutrally, with the air of someone who'd explained that a thousand times already. "There are set hours at which she is approachable, and that isn't now. Please try again tomorrow at three in the afternoon. I'm sure she'll be more than willing to speak with you then."

"This isn't about her being an idol or supermodel." Rin told him, her voice equally neutral. "We must speak to her about Carlton Paris."

The chief bodyguard froze for a split second at the name, before he looked around like a startled deer, and then turned back to Rin.

"Don't say that name out loud again." He hissed angrily, stepping closer to them. "Fine, I'll get you inside to speak with her, but please don't say that name!"

"…Alright?" Rin agreed slowly, sharing a quick look with Sakura and Ayako, who looked just as confused as she felt.

But she wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so she nodded to the bodyguard, who immediately took action.

From there on, it all went rather fast. Within a minute, the trio was standing in an elevator, and again a minute after that, they were ushered into Nagao Harumi's suite…

…Where the idol in question immediately threw herself onto her knees.

"Please, you can't tell anyone!" Nagao Harumi, supermodel and idol, clad in her very revealing stage-outfit, prostrated herself on her hands and knees, desperately kowtowing to the girls as she pleaded for their silence. "I'll do anything!"

"…" Rin was too surprised to answer immediately, and next to her, the other two were in a similar state, gaping at the begging woman.

"I can pay you!" Nagao offered, pressing her forehead against the ground in desperation. "I-I have a lot of money! Or I can take you to expensive parties and get you rich dates! O-Or maybe you want exclusive tickets for my concerts? I can give them to you, the best places! B-Backstage included if you want! Just don't tell anyone about Carlton and me, please!"

…Right. Now Rin remembered. Ayako had already said that it would ruin Nagao if it came out that she and Carlton had been 'involved'. Apparently, idols had to be 'pure and untouched'. A large part of their appeal was their virginity, as it allowed fans to dream of taking said virginity one day.

It was creepy in the extreme, but that was how it worked, and that meant that if it got out that Nagao had regularly hired a gigolo, she would immediately lose most of her fanbase and all her contracts.

That was what Ayako had told her. At the time, Rin had considered it nonsense. If an artist's talent was great enough, surely people would continue supporting their career? Their virginity should be utterly irrelevant.

But now that she'd had a taste of the kind of fans that idols normally had, in the form of the pathetic men outside the hotel, Rin had to admit she'd been wrong. Purity probably was vital for an idol's success.

"We aren't going to tell anyone." Sakura spoke up, visibly made uncomfortable by the begging. "We aren't here to blackmail you, Nagao-san."

"You aren't?" The raw hope in Nagao's eyes was crystal clear, and she rose slightly from her kneeling position. This forced Rin to avert her eyes a bit, as the revealing stage outfit gave her an excellent view of the woman's considerable cleavage. "T-Then why are you here?"

"We came here to tell you that Carlton Paris was murdered six months ago, and that his body has been recently discovered." Ayako brought the news with bluntness, exactly how Rin preferred it. "We thought you should know."

"M-Murdered…?" Nagao became pale at the news, her mouth falling open. "N-No, that can't be true…"

"It is." Sakura said calmly, in as kind a voice as she could. "I am sorry."

Nagao didn't react, staring off into infinity as the news sunk in. She remained on her knees, her arms hanging limp at her sides and her mouth slowly falling open as she was robbed of her senses.

Eventually, after a solid five minutes of silence, Rin and Sakura helped her back into the sofa –Rin absolutely did not feel anything while taking hold of the scantily clad young woman, no sir– and then sat back down themselves.

For another few minutes, nobody spoke, as tears soundlessly made their way down the young woman's cheeks. It was obvious that she was deeply shocked by the news, and though it wasn't conclusive evidence, it did lower the chance of her being the perpetrator in Rin's eyes.

Also, the black-haired reluctantly had to admit she was impressed. When Ayako and Sakura had invited her to join their investigation, she'd thought this Carlton Paris was a greedy womanizer, but it seemed he'd really left a positive impression on his clients. Enough that they reacted to the news of his death with actual grief.

…Would anyone cry for her like that if she were to die?

"How?" Nagao started talking again just in time to tear Rin away from the morose thoughts. The idol's voice was steady even as her hands trembled from the shock and grief. "What happened?"

"We found a body near the Ryuudou-temple about a week ago." Sakura replied. "The police determined that it was Carlton Paris."

"B-But how did he die?"

"We don't know." Ayako admitted. "The police are investigating, but they wouldn't tell us anything, so we don't know."

"I…" Nagao hesitated. "Are you certain that it was Carlton?"

"Fairly certain, yes. I'm sorry."

"I see." Fresh tears started making their way down the woman's cheeks again, but this time, she didn't sink into unresponsiveness. She strongly wiped her cheeks with her hands and continued in a calm, or at least mostly calm voice. "But, if I may ask, how did you know I was involved with Carlton?"

"Your letters to him." Rin smiled. "We found them and discovered your name in them."

"…You 'found' them?" Nagao looked suspicious for a moment, righteously so, but then seemed to decide it didn't matter how they got hold of those letters. "Please don't tell anyone."

"As we said, we won't." Sakura promised. "We have nothing to gain from it. You don't have to pay us for it either."

"Though we would appreciate it if you told us everything you know about Paris-san." Rin cut in, smiling brightly yet threateningly, feeling that a little pressure and 'gentle' encouragement might loosen the woman's tongue a bit.

It turned out the idol needed neither pressure nor encouragement however.

"I bet it was that creep, Maita Rei." Nagao snarled without hesitation, her bloodshot eyes narrowing in anger. "I never trusted her!"

"W-What makes you say that?" Ayako spluttered, surprised by the woman's sudden intensity. "I mean, that's a pretty heavy accusation."

"O-Oh, right." Nagao blinked owlishly, before putting a hand over her mouth. "T-That is, I can't prove that it was her, and I-I am not entirely sure of course, b-but if I had to guess…"

"Maita Rei." Rin repeated, committing the name to memory. "Who is that?"

"She is a psychiatrist." Nagao explained, her hands clenching subconsciously. "A really successful one, with her own clinic and everything. From what I heard, it's a private clinic, and she treats people with all kinds of mental disorders there, often for low rates."

"That sounds like an honourable profession." Sakura lifted an eyebrow. "Certainly not something to hate her for."

"I don't hate her." Nagao shook her head, before aggressively scratching her chest, which forced Rin to avert her eyes again. "Most of the time, she's perfectly pleasant, and kind, and nice. She has all these certificates and medals, and the police even hire her sometimes for suspect-profiles."

"You know a lot about her." Rin kept her voice neutral as she said this. "Why is that?"

"…I have an uncle who's been a 'guest' at her hospital for some time now, so I've interacted with her a few times." It was clearly difficult to admit, but Nagao managed to get it out in the end. "That we both hired Carlton only came after that."

"Is your uncle being treated badly?" Sakura wondered, as that might be a reason for Nagao to dislike Maita.

"Not at all. It's a very good clinic, and my uncle is very happy there."

"Then why do you call her a creep?!" Ayako talked louder than was perhaps necessary, but Rin understood her frustration. Nagao had opened the discussion by speaking ill of Maita, but didn't back it up at all afterwards.

"Because I think it's just a front!" Nagao shouted back, rising from her seat as her face radiated agitation. "Because every time I speak with her, I feel murderous intent! I feel insanity, madness, as if someone is looking at me with the desire to eat me!"

"Eat you?" Rin spluttered.

"I don't know." Nagao looked highly frustrated, scratching her cheeks until they were covered in red lines. "Maita Rei is bad! She's bad news! I told him that! I told Carlton he had to break with her, but he didn't listen! He thought I was jealous! I wasn't! I didn't want him to stay away from anyone else, just Maita Rei!"

"Hey now, calm down!" Ayako grabbed Nagao's hands to stop her from scratching herself more. "Calm down! You are helping no one by having a breakdown now!"

Nagao struggled against Ayako's hold, but the brunette was a fair bit stronger, and she held on until the idol had calmed down a bit, at least sufficiently so for her not to try and harm herself anymore.

Rin felt very awkward at the sight of it, having never had to deal with people having breakdowns before –the most was a fellow student crying after receiving a bad grade, and that was often easily fixed with some ice-cream– and the fact that Sakura looked just as awkward provided little solace.

It was a good thing Ayako was a bit more decisive in her actions.

"I am sorry!" Nagao apologised after a few minutes, looking extremely embarrassed herself, kneeling on the floor again in repentance. "I burdened you with my outburst! I cannot apologise enough!"

"You have already apologised too much!" Rin snapped. Seriously, how eager was this woman to kneel? "Can you just tell us about Carlton Paris instead?"

"A-Ah, right." Nagao mumbled. "I will."

She gave the girls a list of Paris' hobbies, his favourite places in town, his favourite meals, and even a list of people he associated with that went further than just his clients.

It didn't escape the girls' notice that Nagao's version of Carlton Paris was rather different from judge Koyama's version of him. Not entirely oppositional, but enough to ascertain that the man hadn't been entirely honest with his clients.

It also meant that both versions of Carlton Paris were entirely useless for the investigation. Something Rin didn't like at all.

"So you'll tell no one?" Nagao repeated yet again when the girls made to leave. "Really?"

"Yes, really." Rin sighed. "As we said, we have nothing to gain from it, and we aren't the type of person to ruin someone because we think it's funny."

"Your secret is safe with us." Sakura added.

After that, the usual pleasantries were exchanged, and then the girls left.

"It seems we can discard everything we have found out so far about Carlton Paris." Ayako grumbled once they were a fair distance away from the hotel. "He really just invents personalities for each of his clients."

"It wasn't the most productive conversation I have ever had, that is true." Sakura agreed. "But on the other hand, it's good to know that we have to take everything we hear about him with a grain of salt."

"The whole shaker you mean." Rin groused, impressed despite herself with Paris' ability to lie convincingly.

"What do you guys think about Maita Rei?" Ayako brought up the woman who had been accused by Nagao. "Should we interview her too?"

"Nagao-san sure did think Maita-san had something to do with Paris-san's death." Sakura scratched her head for a moment, before retrieving a list from an inner pocket. "She's already on our list though."

"At what place?"

"Third, behind Kaneshiro Yoko and Sumida Gina." Sakura replied. "Should we move her to the top of the list?"

"No." Rin answered shortly. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Just because one person seems to have a rather irrational hatred for Maita Rei does not mean she is now our prime suspect. We'll follow the list, and we'll interview her when it is her turn."

"As you say, Nee-san." Sakura beamed at her. "In that case, we should interview Kaneshiro Yoko. She's the owner of a shipping company located here in Fuyuki."

"Is she rich?" Ayako asked.

"Very."

"Damn, Paris-san really knew how to pick them." Ayako let out an impressed whistle, before smiling wryly. "I guess that means getting to talk with her will be hard?"

"Leave that to me." Rin assured her. "I will get us that meeting by tomorrow."

"You're so reliable!" Ayako enthusiastically praised her.

For some reason, that particular compliment made Rin really happy to hear.

"The trials will continue tomorrow at nine!"

Having spoken those words, the bailiff slammed the end of his staff on the ground three times, officially concluding the day's business and adjourning the court.

They had made quite some headway that day, having convicted over a hundred criminals, but considering how many people were still awaiting trial, they weren't going to be finished for at least another week.

But that was all well within Shirou's expectations.

"Things are going well so far." Lady Montmorency smiled, slowly getting up from her seat. "Everything is going as I have foreseen."

"Don't get too self-satisfied though." Shirou warned her. "The most dangerous part of any operation is when everything seems to be going well."

"I know that, boy, don't you worry. If I catch even a whiff of trouble, I will deal with it immediately."

"…Alright."

"We must bid you farewell for today, mister Fujimaru." Lady Barthomeloi said, also getting up from her seat. "Lady Montmorency and I have many matters to attend to, and your presence would be a detriment to them, I fear."

"Ah, okay." Shirou had no problems with that, though he did wonder why he was a detriment. Sure, he might not be of any use, politically inept as he was, but being a detriment went a lot further than that.

But he had things to do, so he didn't spend much time thinking about it. Instead, he bid the ladies farewell and hurried over Lord El-Melloi's balcony, hoping that the man hadn't left yet.

Fortune smiled upon him, and he caught Lord El-Melloi just as he was about to leave the courtroom. As always, the man had his followers with him, though Flat and Melvin were animatedly discussing something between them a few metres down the hall while Marianne Archelot and Grey remained on the balcony for now. As such, the only ones flanking the lord were Svin and Lehrman.

"Lord El-Melloi!" Shirou called out, and the man turned around immediately.

"Fujimaru." Lord El-Melloi gave him a short nod. "How may I help you?"

"Could we talk for a moment, please?" Shirou asked, looking first at Svin and then at Lehrman, wondering if he should ask to have the conversation in private, before deciding they weren't a problem. If he wanted to sell things, it would only be advantageous to have as many people as possible knowing about it.

"Talk? That is unusual, coming from you." Lord El-Melloi lifted a curious eyebrow. "But yes, I do have some time to ta-"

"What exactly do you want to talk about, Shirou?" Svin interrupted his sponsor bluntly, having really stepped into his role as bodyguard, going as far as to adopt their brutish mannerisms. "I hope it is nothing too troublesome?"

"You aren't going to make more problems for my beloved Waver, are you?" Lehrman joined Svin in glaring suspiciously at Shirou. "Darling is still dealing with the fallout of your last project. He doesn't need any more work right now."

"I'm not here to make trouble. I merely have a business proposal." Shirou tried to reassure them. "I promise it won't take long."

"A business proposal?" Lord El-Melloi's other eyebrow was raised as high as the first. "Once again, that is not something I would expect from you, Fujimaru."

"I suppose not." Shirou acknowledged with a sheepish smile. "Nevertheless, I do want to talk with you about such a proposal. It's about this."

'This' being a small, handheld mirror that Shirou now retrieved from his inner pocket. It was one of the treasures from the Vault, with the ability to reflect magic-based attacks back to the attacker.

Basically, if a spell was fired at the owner, the owner could hold up the mirror and the spell would be perfectly reflected. Of course, there were limits to it –if a spell was too powerful, it could very well break the mirror– but it was nevertheless a very useful tool for personal defence. One that should be worth a couple of million pounds surely.

"Hm, I see." Lord El-Melloi nodded after Shirou explained the mirror's properties, and Shirou's confidence in the mirror's value dropped hard when the lord's expression didn't change at all. "It is an interesting tool."

'An interesting tool'…

That didn't sound particularly enthusiastic, and Shirou adjusted its expected value to half-a-million pounds at most.

"Why are you showing it to me?" Lord El-Melloi continued, still in the same, calm tone that belied no enthusiasm or eagerness whatsoever.

"Because I want to sell it." Shirou explained, feeling very awkward now. He'd hoped he could have started the negotiations with a very valuable item, to set the tone and get the lord enthusiastic, but it seemed that had fallen through. "And I would like your help."

"Sell it?" Lord El-Melloi blinked very slowly, his expression stiff, before he turned to Lehrman. "Lehrman, you have experience in the sale of magical items. How much do you estimate that mirror to be worth?"

"If Fujimaru's telling the truth about its properties?" Lehrman gave the mirror a good look, before she slowly nodded. "Yeah, at least thirty million pounds."

"Eh?!" Shirou's mind halted for a second, before it started turning again at top speed. "That much?!"

"That's rather on the low side." Svin huffed, also studying the mirror, before he glared at Lehrman. "You aren't trying to deceive Fujimaru, are you?"

"Hey, I said 'at least', didn't I?" Lehrman's hackles visibly raised at the accusation, and she glared right back. "With a bit of marketing, the mirror could easily be worth three or four times that!"

"That sounds more plausible." Svin calmed down again after Lehrman's rebuttal, and his gaze returned to the mirror. "It isn't every day after all that a magical item is sold."

"Certainly not. The fact that it is a magical item alone is enough to make it worth ten or twenty million, but if it really has such an amazing function, that price could easily be tripled at the very least."

"I know of at least four families who'd pay a hundred million pounds for it without blinking an eye." Svin agreed, before he smiled wryly. "Mine is one of them."

"Mine too." Lehrman nodded happily. "In fact, I-"

"Thank you for your input, Svin, Lehrman." Lord El-Melloi put a stop to their conversation before they could get too far off track. "Well then, mister Fujimaru, you heard them. This mirror is worth quite a sum. In light of that, do you still wish to sell it?"

"Yes." Shirou nodded strongly. "If it's worth a lot, all the better."

"Alright, if you're certain, I believe I can arrange something for you." Lord El-Melloi looked at the mirror for a moment, before his gaze returned to Shirou's eyes. "Would you like to sell it at an open auction or in private?"

"Ah…?" Shirou scratched his head for a bit again. "What's the difference?"

"Exactly what the names imply." Lord El-Melloi shrugged. "At an open auction, everyone who is interested in acquiring your magical item gathers together to bid as much as they are willing to pay for it. If you sell it in private, you contact one person and have them pay a negotiated amount of money."

"The upsides and downsides of both?" Shirou continued his questioning.

"You can get a lot more money at an open auction than in a private deal." Lehrman explained readily, taking over from Lord El-Melloi. "The pressure and the rivalry between the people in attendance will ensure that the price goes way up. On the other hand, selling it privately is a lot easier and quicker, and won't get you any trouble from people who are disappointed that a magical item slipped through their fingers."

"I see." Shirou mused, weighing the options in his mind. If he had been selling the mirror for himself only, he would have chosen the second option in a heartbeat. However, he was also doing this for Lord El-Melloi, to clear his debt, and that meant more money was better.

"If you need some time to think about this, we can continue this discussion tomorrow." Lord El-Melloi, kind as ever, offered.

"Please." Shirou nodded, before he held up a hand to stop Lord El-Melloi from responding. "But this mirror isn't the only item I want to sell."

"It isn't?"

"No. I have a lot of other items I have no use for anymore, and I would like to sell several of them too."

"Hm." The lord pondered for a moment, before he nodded once. "In that case, please come to my office tomorrow after the trials with all the items you wish to put on sale. We can discuss everything then."

"Can I be present?" Lehrman asked, raising her hand like a good student. "Like darling said, I have a lot of experience with selling magical items, and I'm always happy to help."

"That is surprisingly decent of you, Lehrman." Svin looked pleasantly surprised at the pink-haired girl's willingness to help out.

"It's a matter of personal interest, really." Lehrman waved away the praise, before giving a victory sign, grinning widely. "If I can lay my eyes on whatever Fujimaru has to sell, I will be a happy girl."

"I have no problem with you being there." If she really was an expert, Shirou would only be glad to have her.

"Then we shall convene tomorrow in my office." Lord El-Melloi repeated. "Please bring all items you wish to sell. For now though, I must leave. Much work remains to be done, in so very little time."

With that, he was gone too, and so were his followers, leaving Shirou alone and without anything to do for the evening.

It was strange, being free again after so long of having to rush from event to event, and Shirou wondered what he might do. Something relaxing, to offset the rush of the past weeks, if at all possible.

Perhaps he should see if he was allowed into the Clocktower's kitchens…