Roland wasn't a magus, with his current standing, he had no reliable channel to directly learn about the Holy Grail War. But relying on what he knew from the original story, he could still roughly judge the timeline.
Even if he didn't gain his stand, this small obstacle was easy enough to work around.
The sleek, pale, and dazzlingly modern structure stood in stark contrast to the nostalgic old mountain town it had replaced. This towering building, made of soulless steel, glass, and paint, symbolized the rise of the modern era, a steel jungle dominating the new city. But even in this cold landscape, there was something the city could be proud of.
That was the Hyatt Hotel of Fuyuki City, the tallest and finest building in town. Even the most nostalgia-soaked Fuyuki locals would still show a hint of admiration when the hotel came up in conversation.
The business suites there were often left vacant, and it wasn't hard to confirm that the lower floors were routinely booked in advance.
Beyond that, Roland could regularly visit the church to pray, check how often a certain "Mapo priest" showed up in daily life, or pay attention to whether the famous head of the Tohsaka family was making appearances at major local events. All of that could be done quietly, much better than bluntly going around asking questions.
However, it was Tohsaka Aoi who ultimately delivered news first. Roland had deliberately avoided investigating the Tohsaka mother and daughter to avoid raising suspicion, so unexpectedly learning something while working part-time had been a pleasant surprise.
"So, it's almost time to get ready to move. According to Aoi Tohsaka, it should be sometime next week."
Roland unconsciously bit his nails, his eyes darkening.
Although he had no real interest in the Holy Grail War and didn't want to disrupt his peaceful life, Roland had still been tracking traces of contracted spirits whether for maintenance or for future precautions.
Finding it wasn't particularly difficult. After all, a contract spirit wasn't a natural product, but a creation of the Key of All Spirits. Without the knowledge and help granted by the Key, it was impossible to successfully establish a contract with a spirit or even fully digest its power.
[T/N: From now, I will refer to the 'Key of All spirits' simply 'Key' or 'KOAS' if it's repeated too many times in a chapter]
An escaped spirit would act on instinct, attaching itself to objects or creatures that attracted it.
If it attached to objects, that wasn't too bad, the user might gradually be consumed and driven insane, but at least it wouldn't erupt into a major disaster. But if it attached to a living creature… things will get dangerous.
Those with low spiritual sensitivity would only experience whispers they couldn't place or use any of the spirit's power, maybe just gaining glimpses of incomprehensible knowledge from other worlds. In the end, they'd fall into twisted obsessions and slowly lose their minds, but their ending wasn't the worst.
The truly terrifying cases were the "lucky ones", individuals whose natures were highly compatible with the spirit's price. These people, blessed with high spiritual sensitivity, could borrow its power, but at the cost of their own souls and essence being contaminated. In the best-case scenario, they would lose their personalities and become deranged lunatics. In the worst case, they would twist into grotesque monsters, triggering disasters that could ripple out across the entire world.
Yet, up to now, Roland had found no signs of such anomalies.
Using the excuse of "getting to know the surroundings," he had already visited several famous landmarks over the past few days during his usual walking hours.
He had pretended to be a tourist when visiting Ryūdō Temple, casually strolled past the areas near the Tohsaka and Matou mansions, and even toured Einzbern Castle in the forest during a day off. Yet the Key of All Spirits remained silent, offering no clues.
That left only two possibilities: either the escaped spirit was extremely weak and barely having any impact, or it had already caused a massive disturbance, but Roland couldn't detect it due to lack of information or being blocked by environmental factors.
Neither option was reassuring. Still, since the Key had passed through this place, it proved that the main traces left by the escaped spirit were centered in this city.
"In other words… is it possible the spirit has attached itself to one of the Masters in this Holy Grail War?"
Roland sighed, feeling a headache coming on.
If it wasn't absolutely necessary, he really didn't want to get involved in this mess. But… fine. He'd deal with that tomorrow.
Right now, he had something else that was important to handle.
Roland looked up at the shop manager, who approached holding a slightly thick envelope. Smiling calmly but with a hint of anticipation, Roland received it.
Today, he had one more urgent task to finish.
——
Late at night on the street, a tall, yellow-haired young man squeezed the empty bottle in his hand, venting his anger as he viciously hurled it aside.
"Damn old man! Even after dying, you're still causing me trouble! And those brainless idiots from the Fujimura group, they're all fools! The house is already mine, but they refuse to let me move in just because of a dead man's last request? Asking me to 'cherish it' instead of selling it for cash?"
As if something particularly unpleasant had been stirred up, the yellow-haired youth resentfully cracked open a new can of beer and chugged it down.
In Miyama Town, he was a well-known figure, though not in a good way. In this depressed society, there were plenty of drifters and delinquents, but even among them, this guy was top-tier.
He did nothing worthwhile, bullied the weak, drank, chased women, and squandered most of his family's fortune. His mother died of grief in the hospital, and after being kicked out of the house, he racked up a mountain of debt, which he then dragged back home, along with a pack of ruthless debt collectors.
His elderly father had been forced to sell off nearly all the family's remaining properties, leaving only the ancestral home passed down for generations. Soon after, the old man suddenly died, and even the funeral had to be funded by friends.
Even though the family's wealth hadn't been seriously affected by Japan's bursting bubble economy, it was almost laughable how quickly it had been destroyed by this man's recklessness.
But clearly, none of that had left any meaningful impact on the yellow-haired youth. He was still basking in the glee of a windfall.
The real estate market was sluggish, sure, but the old family house was ancestral property, well located, and fairly large. It was considered a desirable purchase and could fetch a decent price.
However, after hastily putting it up for sale, the yellow-haired youth ran into reality: the house's value meant that only buyers with a certain level of social standing were interested. And in a place like Fuyuki City, which wasn't too big or too small, reputation mattered.
Nobody wanted to touch a notorious "hot potato" like him. Even after he gritted his teeth and offered it to the Fujimura group, the city's largest yakuza organization at a discounted price, they flatly rejected him without mercy.
With no one willing to do business with him, he was left drinking cheap canned beer by the side of the road, stewing in despair.
"Meow."
At that moment, a black cat lightly leaped across the wall nearby. Maybe it was bothered by the heavy stench of alcohol, because it let out a slightly annoyed meow.
The yellow-haired youth, already in a foul mood, was instantly provoked.
"Damn it! Even a cat looks down on me!"
He angrily threw the beer can in his hand. But since the can was only half-empty, he misjudged its weight, and it smacked the cat squarely on the paw.
Startled, the black cat bolted like an arrow from a bow, racing straight ahead, just as a young man was turning the corner.
Unexpectedly, even though the yellow-haired youth didn't react at all, the young man's hand moved with uncanny precision, snatching the cat up by the scruff of its neck and cradling it securely in his arms.
Roland squinted, one arm protectively holding a bag, the other cradling the cat, blinking as he stared at the scene before him.
"So… what exactly is going on here?"
Despite being lifted off the ground, the black cat didn't seem the least bit panicked. Instead, it happily licked its paw, rubbed its head affectionately against Roland's hand, and let out a joyful meow.
"Meow—"