On the other side, in the Far East, Roland remained blissfully unaware that a peculiar duo had officially formed in the Clock Tower.
Perhaps because he'd recently resolved a string of problems, Roland's days had been unusually peaceful. Apart from his routine meetings with Kotomine Kirei, there was little to trouble him.
In such a calm environment, he managed to maintain a delicate balance between indulging his infamous hand fetish and enjoying a tranquil life, thanks, in part, to his beloved hand models.
"Fuyuki City... what a beautiful place."
Leaning lazily against a tree deep in Central Park, Roland admired the serene view. In his hand, he held one of his treasured hand models, using it, of all things, as cutlery, as he took small, deliberate bites from a sandwich.
Toasted bread spread with a thin layer of mustard, stacked with buttered eggs and crispy fried bacon. Another layer of bacon sat on top, completely devoid of vegetables. It was the sort of overindulgent sandwich Roland only bothered making on days when the weather was just right.
Meanwhile, Kira Yoshikage's contracted spirit was steadily being digested. At this rate, by the end of the Holy Grail War, its influence would have vanished entirely.
The mysterious contracted spirit that had once disrupted the system was also close to revealing itself. If things went well, Roland could utilize Killer Queen's first-sight kill and aim to seize the contracted spirit directly instead of the Holy Grail itself. That would significantly lower the pressure.
And if everything somehow went sideways, Roland still had one final trump card: the third bomb, Bites the Dust. A magic powerful enough to reverse time, akin to a miniaturized Spring and Autumn Cicada. It was not to be used lightly, but it remained a formidable last resort.
Still, Roland didn't care much for it. The activation conditions were complicated and the ability itself was a bit too troublesome.
"Whatever. Not like I'm some heroic do-gooder anyway…"
Basking in the rare winter sunshine, Roland savored the moment. But as always, uninvited guests had a way of ruining such peace.
"Roland, I'm disappointed."
A raspy voice broke the silence. The hunchbacked old man had appeared on the other side of the tree without a sound.
"Hm?"
Roland glanced at the sandwich in his hand. "This is really good. I made it myself. If I sold it, I'm sure it'd be a signature item on a menu."
Who asked you about food?!
Matou Zouken nearly exploded with irritation. His eyes, full of malice, twitched in silent rage.
"What?" Roland raised an eyebrow. "Even if you glare at me like that, I can't help you. I only made one sandwich. If you're really that desperate, I'll send you the recipe later."
Cough!
Zouken thumped his cane into the ground in frustration. Every time he met Roland, something always felt off.
Despite the Holy Grail War looming ahead, this man behaved like a bystander. There was an air of indifference about him that felt almost unnatural.
"I'm talking about the Holy Grail War! This calm won't last. The other Masters already have their relics. It won't be long before they start summoning their Servants. And you're still lounging around like it's a holiday!"
"It's fine. Your goal isn't the Grail, right? Neither is mine. The true meaning of this war is to enjoy it as peacefully as possible."
Roland's tone was light and unconcerned.
"Heh…"
Matou Zouken couldn't help but chuckle at that arrogant smirk. Though he hated the sight of Roland's face, he had to admit—
"We're the same kind of monster."
"Oh?" Roland lazily packed up his sandwich, Zouken's decaying stench was starting to ruin his appetite. "What makes you say that?"
"When pursuing a goal, you get distracted. Rationally, you know you should cast aside your whims… but you don't. I've lived long enough to realize: the scenery along the way can be more enjoyable than reaching the destination."
"To ordinary humans, we're not just magi. We're monsters who don't belong anywhere."
He glanced at the hand model still in Roland's grasp and added darkly, "Honestly, I sometimes wonder if you're mocking me."
Roland sighed. "So why are you here today, really?"
"To confirm your progress. I'll be providing assistance soon. At the very least, you should've decided which class of Heroic Spirit you're summoning. Otherwise, how am I supposed to find you a suitable relic?"
Though he hadn't thought much about it lately, Roland had already made his decision.
"Caster. Find me a relic for that."
"Are you sure? It's one of the two weakest classes."
"Strength depends on how you use it. In a real Holy Grail War, no one believes in fair fights between kings and equals."
After watching so many Holy Grail Wars, Roland didn't claim to fully understand them, but he did know one thing: Caster was a practical choice.
Not only did Casters have access to mystery-defying magecraft from earlier eras, but they could create useful tools and even serve as teachers. Tangible benefits, not some vague wish-granting cup.
"I was right about you," Zouken nodded approvingly. "A normal Master would never handle a Caster. This is even better than Assassin."
No one knew magi better than other magi.
"And as it happens, I've got a very good Caster relic in my collection. I'll get it for you."
"Appreciate it. That said, what about the mana supply? I chose Caster partly because they consume less mana. But I'm just an ordinary person—can I switch magic power providers easily?"
"Normally, no. After all, the contract is granted directly by the Holy Grail. But…" Zouken smirked. "You forget who I am."
"It was the Matou family who developed the Grail system and established the Command Seal, a Master's absolute authority over Heroic Spirits."
With a confident glint in his eye, Zouken declared, "No one in the Matou line, past or future, understands Command Seals better than I do. I'll have everything ready by tomorrow."
Then, as if remembering something amusing, he gave Roland a twisted grin and glanced at the hand model.
"I guarantee you'll be… satisfied. Just don't get too carried away before the war starts."
"What does that mean?" Roland asked, frowning slightly.
But Zouken was already gone.
________________
Later that evening, a familiar figure entered the store again.
"Four mapo tofu bentos. As usual."
"Got it."
Roland rang them up quickly. Ever since their first meeting, Kotomine Kirei had shown up at the convenience store daily, buying out the discounted mapo tofu bentos without fail. He was starting to become a local legend.
"Kotomine-san really loves his mapo tofu, huh? Here you go."
He handed over the bag, but instead of leaving, Kirei hesitated. A rare moment of uncertainty flickered on his face.
"Hmm? Something wrong, Kotomine-san?"
Roland was confused. He'd been careful, wearing gloves every day to hide the Command Seals. Kirei hadn't noticed anything unusual so far. Just in case, Roland prepared to summon Killer Queen at a moment's notice.
"Roland-kun…"
Kirei took a deep breath, grasping the cross around his neck. His expression turned uncharacteristically serious.
"What is the meaning of life…?"
"...?"
Did you stumble into the wrong genre? What kind of priest says that? Are you sure you're not a stage actor?
Roland subtly shifted to the side, putting a bit more distance between himself and the increasingly suspicious priest.