The Hound and the Blacksmith

[ItsaRandomUsername]

Lolicon impulses satisfied.

You're thinking of Eden, methinks.
[/keeping track of the jailbait in The Hound and the Blacksmith]

Still, this was actually quite steamy. Feel proud, Kratos, feel proud.

[Elf]

You're thinking of Eden, methinks.
[/keeping track of the jailbait in The Hound and the Blacksmith]

Still, this was actually quite steamy. Feel proud, Kratos, feel proud.

Yep, Eden's the Jailbait, Eloise is the sexy minx, and Ethan is SpikeLite. Except has a penchant for suckers instead of cigarettes.

[Ivan The Mouse]

[Smokes a paper cigarette.] Kratos, that was so hot.

[Kratosirving]

Hey, before I steal all the credit, this is half me, half Elf. I played zee Faker, she played Eloise.

[Keyne]

Hey, before I steal all the credit, this is half me, half Elf. I played zee Faker, she played Eloise.

FFEEEEEEEEIIIIKKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

[Kratosirving]

Btw, I don't know if anyone caught this, but I changed Eloise's eyes to turquoise from the normal Dead Apostle red. I felt that with such a unique ability, and the fact that she's not a completely evil bitch warranted her a more humanistic look. Plus, it's something unique for DA's.

[Mike1984]

Not a completely evil bitch? But she just murdered Shin...

Oh, wait, never mind, carry on...

[Elf]

Not a completely evil bitch? But she just murdered Shin...

Oh, wait, never mind, carry on...

It's no fun when all the villains are just are evil for the lols you know. They have to have a goal or . . . need to eat.

[Eveonder]

His life is worth more than a blowjob but if you return all of Sakura's suffering to him... it's only natural he'd end up dead in a sex scene.

But... it's no fun when the villains are beyond redemption... especially when there's no Ilya route. I mourn the missing routes.

[Kieran]

We're working on them - Inugami's focussing on Satsuki at the moment, but Ilya will get her turn.

(For those who don't get it, it means "Bleached White" and its associated concepts will eventually be coming back - we're just using the reset as a chance to streamline things a bit better.)

[Elf]

Part Four: Concerns of a Fantastical Nature

Pistons glided in perfect motion as the rumble of an engine sounded more like an angry beast than anything mechanical. A subtle shift of the gear and pressing a heavy foot onto the gas peddle caused the monster to roar in annoyance at being kept still. Strong hands lowered the gear and cut off the creature’s mechanical heart before dismounting.

Archer tilted his head at the Dream Super Sport Honda CB77 before running a hand over the polished chrome of the handlebar. The bike was almost half a century old, but care had obviously been taken to keep it in pristine condition. If pressed, he would answer that he preferred working on older vehicles like this, even though his first vehicle had been a Suzuki Katana that had the firings missing.

That “crotch rocket” had gotten him far during the beginning of his career of being a superhero in the United States. He had repaired the bike to working condition after finding it in a junk yard and ran it into the ground. Literally. He remembered the first time he had crossed the path of a pair of Dead Apostles named Karel and Melanie and ended up sacrificing his bike to save an innocent bystander.

Maybe I should rebuild another motorcycle like that, he thought as he looked around the shop full of any tool he could ask for an American muscle car and more modern racing bikes. Fujimura-dono paid him well and Archer had a feeling that the old boss knew more about his city than he let on, or that his granddaughter knew about. The crime rate in Fuyuki was low compared to neighboring cities and there was very little or any drug trafficking in the city. Heaven forbid if anyone was caught doing anything to a child because they would have been dealt with swiftly and leaving nary a trace. Archer had to admire the old man’s sense of right and wrong. The punk might have balked at it, but the reality of it coincided with the revision of Archer’s ideal.

He studied the gorgeous machine in front of him and ran his fingers over the soft, leather seat. Maybe I should scrap myself a bike together, Archer thought with a tilt of his head. It meant he could easily get out of the city if needed and they were more economically sound with how gas prices were generally climbing. Physical discomfort was something Archer was all too familiar with, so riding in the elements wasn’t that much of a concern for him. I guess I’m going to need to go scouting in the junk yard to see what I can cobble together, he mused with a smile.

Suddenly bright light washed over the dim interior of the garage, causing Archer to blink and shelter his eyes. The door had been open and standing there was the stout figure of one Fujimura Raiga standing there in his dark green kimono with the tiger print haroi over it. His white hair was cut close to his skull in a manner that naturally caused it to stick up and his features had lines sharply etched into them. Standing to the right of the solid figure was slim and lithe Seto in his three piece blue suit and to the left was compact Mokuba with his long, wild black hair tied back in a tail. The brothers were Fujimura’s constant attendants and body guards.

Seto carried a .9mm Beretta under his suit jacket while Mokuba preferred his fists. Mokuba nodded and Seto grinned as one hand took off his wrap around sunglasses. “You treating my ride well, Archer?” the man asked.

“I treat everything with care that deserves it,” Archer replied before bowing at Fujimura. “You honor me with your presence, Fujimura-dono.”

Fujimura bowed in return and said, “You honor me with your work. Even though I wouldn’t mind having some of your other talents at my beck and call.”

So you do know then, Archer thought as he straightened up. He said, “I’m trying to keep a low profile.”

“So did Kiritsugu after the War,” Fujimura said as he adjusted his haroi ever so slightly.

Archer’s eyes narrowed and Mokuba laughed. “We all know that magic exists, Shirou and that cute Tohsaka girl is the ruler of this land.”

“You should arrange a meeting when she returns home from London,” Seto said with a shrug.

Archer stared at them, his eyes narrowed as the image of his beloved falchions filled his mind and Fujimura chuckled. Archer said, “That’s not my name.”

“It was. I bet Kiritsugu is turning in his grave finding out his son became a heroic spirit,” Fujimura said with a shake of his head and a smile.

Archer frowned and Mokuba said, “Don’t worry, we’re the only ones who know who you are.”

“We figured it out when we saw Taiga-chan flirting with you,” Seto said with a shrug.

Fujimura’s sloe eyes met Archer’s as he said, “And you were able to graft your arm to Shirou without it killing him instantly. The only way that’s possible was if the spiritual match was perfect.”

Archer looked at his whole and perfect left arm before flexing it, feeling the muscles pulse and move in response. With a turn of the wrist five fingers moved in harmony before the appendage was rested on the seat of the motorcycle. Archer frowned and asked, “How much do you know, Fujimura-dono?”

“There’s nothing in this town that I don’t know about, or will eventually know about,” the old man said with a shrug and a smile.

Seto stepped up and pulled out a manila envelope from his suit. “Which is why we’re here, Archer. We’re not experts, but we believe there is a threat to this town that we cannot handle,” the yakuza bodyguard said as his deep blue eyes met Archer’s.

Archer took the envelope and opened it. The paper was rough under the callused fingertip, but the discomfort was ignored once it was open. Archer pulled out the contents and frowned at a series of highly detailed black and white photos. His frown deepened as he looked at each picture.

There were three separate subjects and different angles, but theme was all the same. The metal gurneys were all too familiar as the paper thin shrouds. Skin came off looking deathly pale even with the lack of color in the picture. There were four corpses, two women and two men. Their ages and even races differed radically, but each body had something in common. All of them were exposed from the chest down, perfectly displaying two black puncture wounds on their throats.

“Damn,” Archer said with a scowl as he gripped the slick paper between his fists. He looked at Fujimura and asked, “When did these happen?”

“Within the last two nights,” Fujimura said with a sigh and a shake of his head.

Archer asked, “Are they at the same morgue?”

“No,” Seto said with a shake of his head.

Mokuba answered, “No, one’s in Miyama-cho and the other three are in Shinto.”

Archer looked at them and said, “I’ll take care of this.”

“Then consider your rates tripled,” Seto said as he straightened up.

Archer frowned and said, “I’m not doing this to get paid, Seto.”

“No, but maybe you should be,” Fujimura said with a lopsided grin.

******

“Nii-san wasn’t at practice this morning,” Sakura said as she tucked the lock of hair tied by her pink ribbon behind her ear. Her lover straightened up, his recent growth spurt becoming more and more evident from his height to the width of his shoulders. Emiya Shirou frowned before running a hand through his coppery red hair.

He said, “Well, we have homeroom together, Sakura.”

“It’s not like him to skip though, Sempai,” she said with a shake of her head.

Shirou smiled, his golden-brown eyes flickered around before he bent forward to graze her cheek with his lips. She took a deep breath as the simple touch filled her with warmth as her body automatically responded to him. Small hands tightened into fists as slow breaths were taken to try to calm the burning need from within. Damned worms, she thought as she looked up at her lover, Even though they’re gone, they still leave their mark.

Even now, after so long, she wondered how Shirou could even touch her after everything that had been done, what had been put inside of her.

Shirou said, “I know, he still likes showing off to the first years.”

“Well, Mitsuzuri-taicho and he had a fight last night,” Sakura said with a slight smile, “She punched him.”

Shirou’s eyes widened and he muttered, “Mitsuzuri can be scarier than Tohsaka sometimes, Sakura.”

“She seemed to have a lot on her mind,” Sakura said.

He said, “Well I did see Lancer talking to her the other day. He’s . . . rather quick with girls, Sakura.”

“Do you think he did something?” Sakura asked with wide eyes. Even Rider would be crushed under him. Lancer also doesn’t seem like the type to take no for an answer.

Shirou shrugged and said, “I don’t think so. He flirts a lot, but if a girl told him know he’d stop.” He frowned, shook his head and said, “For a little while at least.”

Sakura frowned and said, “I might have to ask Rider to watch over her.”

“Over my dead body,” came a familiar voice that could have frozen water behind them.

The lovers spun around to see the very subject they were just speaking about standing there with a scowl marring her pretty features. Amber eyes were narrowed as her hands were on her slim hips. Sakura blinked and said, “Mitsuzuri-taicho, we were just talking about you.”

“I think she knows, Sakura,” Shirou said as he rested his hand on Sakura’s shoulder before casting Ayako a sweet smile. “Hey Mitsuzuri, what’s up?”

Ayako said, “You keep your pet freak away from me, Sakura-chan. Or Lancer will.”

Sakura’s eyes widened as she met Shirou’s, his expression mirroring hers. He swallowed, gave a nervous laugh and said, “We don’t know what you’re talking about Mitsuzuri.”

“Lancer told me everything,” Ayako said in a low voice as she looked around.

Ice washed over Sakura’s spine as she stared at the girl. Shirou frowned and said, “He did what?”

“I don’t like being lied to,” Ayako said as she folded her arms under her breasts, “I get you two have to keep your Hogwarts experience a secret, but . . . Keep Rider away from me.”

Shirou frowned and said, “Rider wouldn’t hurt anyone if she doesn’t have to, Mitsuzuri, but I’d stay away from Lancer though. He’s dangerous.”

“No, he’s not. At least he has enough of a pair to tell me the whole damned truth,” Ayako said before taking a deep breath.

Sakura jumped as her level eyes met hers and Ayako said, “Look, I know you wouldn’t hurt a fly, Sakura-chan . . .”

“Hey look, that girl’s naked . . . Let’s get closer . . .”

Red tinged black. Tendrils moving rapidly. Enveloping. Devouring. Painful hunger . . .

Sakura swallowed as her chest began to tighten at the memory. A firm, warm hand wrapped around hers pouring strength into her. Shirou’s eyes met hers as he gripped her hand with a firm nod. A large weight lifted itself from Sakura’s chest and she could breathe once again before staring at Ayako.

“You have no idea what I’m capable of, Mitsuzuri-taicho,” Sakura said in a low voice.

Shirou said, “Shinji was the one who had Rider attack you, not Sakura.”

“I know that, Emiya,” Ayako said bristling, “But she’s still stalking me.”

Sakura’s eyes widened as she met Shirou’s. Shirou frowned and looked back at the Archery captain. He said, “What?”

“That crazy vampire woman’s stalking me,” Ayako said in a soft voice.

Sakura scowled and said, “She is now, is she?”

“Oh uho,” Shirou said with an audible swallow.

A smile spread across Sakura’s face as she said, “Don’t worry Mitsuzuri-taicho, I’ll have a long talk with her. Now, I’m trying to find my brother as he skipped practice.”

“He’s probably burying his head after I punched him yesterday,” Ayako said with a sigh.

Shirou grinned and said, “You’re not the first person to have that impulse.”

“I know. Sorry, I didn’t mean to be a bitch just . . . I’m just glad I’m not going crazy,” Ayako said with a smile and a wave.

Shirou said, “Mitsuzuri?”

“Yeah, Emiya? Gonna join the team now that you’re Sakura-chan’s boyfriend?” Ayako asked with a grin.

Shirou’s expression mirrored Archer’s grim stare as he said, “You can’t speak a word of this to anyone. People could kill you for it.”

“I won’t,” Ayako said before turning to head off to the other direction.

Sakura sighed and said, “Lancer . . .”

“He’s a real pest,” Shirou snapped with a glare that was generally reserved for his older, alternative self.

Sakura laughed and said, “You only give Archer that look.”

“Honestly, I can stand Archer better than that guy,” Shirou said with a shake of his head.

Sakura sighed and said, “I know, just this is troublesome. He can’t go telling everyone about this.”

“Lancer seems like the type that doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut,” Shirou said with a shake of his head.

Sakura nodded and replied, “I’ll ask Archer if he could talk to him. After I have a long talk with Rider.”

******

Archer was standing at the squat, brick building that served as a free clinic in Miyama-cho and housed its morgue. People moved in and out of the building, some in rather careworn conditions. The rest of the buildings around were squat and sagging ever so slightly as well in different stages of decay. This block seemed to be slowly dying, a part of Fuyuki that only the most desolate had remembered and still used.

Taking a deep breath Archer moved to the alley beside the building and walked until he found the back exit that lead to the morgue. The still quiet here was a stark contrast to the bustling noise at the front of the building. The dead tell no tales, Archer thought dryly before opening the heavy glass door.

He was greeted by harsh green lighting that buzzed from above and a cold blast of air to the face. Harsh, chemical smells burned the nostrils, but under the antiseptic burn there was the earthy stench of human waste, the sweet smell of rot, and the rank, ammonia filled odor of urine. No matter where in the world he was, Archer realized that all places like this smelled the same. His nose curled ever so slightly at the smell of death as he walked down a black and white checkered tile walkway. Only the buzzing from the fluorescent lights and the quiet pound of steel toed working boots on tile were the only noise reaching keen ears.

Archer walked to a thick concrete door with reinforced glass. He put his hand on the heavy steel handle and began to turn it. A wet thud and a pricing scream shrilled out from behind right as a door opened from right across the hall. Limbs and white fabric tumbled out of the room as one red stained hand reached heavenward.

“Help me!” came the cry, over and over again as sobs cut it off. Large, bespectacled eyes in a pale face met Archer’s as the wet, blood covered hand reached up to Archer. More crimson stained the left side of the once pristine lab coat as more of the liquid squirted from beneath a hand clenched over the girl’s throat.

He was at the tech’s side in an instant as a length of red cloth entered his mind. Prana flickered up and flared through circuits to make the holy cloth a reality between callused palms. Archer knelt by the girl’s side as he began to wrap the shroud around and around, binding the girl’s hand to her throat. “Don’t move,” he instructed as he looked up to see the trail of blood leading back from the room only to be greeted by a low, moaning growl.

Standing in the door way was a ragged wretch that could have been once called a man. Long hair smeared and tangled with gore brushed against starkly pale shoulders with each quivering step. Its chest was carefully cleaved open revealing glistening meat and neatly cracked bone from within as its flesh swayed with each movement. Even from this distance, Archer could make out the two neat puncture wounds that had been driven into the carotid artery.

“Trace. On.”

More prana welled through twenty-seven fully open and formed circuits at the all too familiar spell, the full usefulness of that potential granted through rebirth. In a spray of a golden shimmer one white falchion formed in a right hand while its black mirror formed in the left. A pair of short swords that were forged just to be beautiful and perfect swords, but due to the sacrifices in their creation were lifted to the realm of gods and heroes. Swords without a hero that were perfect for a hero without a name who’s body was made out of swords.

Kansho and Bakuya fit into Archer’s hands with the same ease as they always did, the gorgeous swords an extension of his left and right hands. Wielding them again was like coming home or returning to a lover after being parted from them for far too long. He flexed his hands around the leather wrapped grip before long legs spurred into motion.

The butchered Dead reached out towards him with lumbering arms, but a graceful pivot caused Bakuya to block the limbs. Kansho all but sang as it was swung in a clean arch before meeting and cleaving through meat and bone like butter. Thick, black fluid spurted once before the ruined body jerked and crashed to the ground. There was a wet splat as the head followed suit before rolling in a trail of its own gore.

More shouts and yelling were heard as a loud voice called out, “Freeze, hands in the air and drop the swords!”

“Stupid low luck rating,” Archer said as the prana was relinquished, the image of the swords shattered in glittering flecks. He spun around to see a security guard rushing towards him as people in scrubs went to help the girl. The overweight man roughly shoved Archer into the wall and twisted his arms behind his back.

He sighed and looked towards the ceiling with its humming and sickly green lights as he relented to the all too familiar feeling of being arrested.



Looks like, "Stupid low luck rating." is becoming Archer's catch phrase.

Also, points to whoever gets the Seto and Mokuba reference.

[Kratosirving]

Yay for Kaiba bros. making an appearance. Looks like hero is having lasting effects, hehe.

[Neir]

When I read 'pistons glided in perfect motion' for a second I thought "wait, am I STILL reading the sex scene?"

Then I lold. And expected someone to say 'shut up, Mokuba.'

Edit:

After reading, I'm kind of confused as to Shirou's attitude towards Lancer. Sure, the guy stabbed him, but I don't recall Shirou ever having any real animosity towards him. Just wariness.

I'm also not sure as to how much Lancer actually knows about what happened during the Heaven's Feel. He got taken out before most of the big shit went down. Did he know about the worms or Zouken, and about Shirou's baddassery? Did someone just fill him in?

[Kieran]

Yay for the catchphrase!

[Mike1984]

After reading, I'm kind of confused as to Shirou's attitude towards Lancer. Sure, the guy stabbed him, but I don't recall Shirou ever having any real animosity towards him. Just wariness.

Yeah, but he's a well-known skirt chaser who is going after Ayako. It's understandable that Shirou and Sakura would be somewhat wary of him doing so. Of course, Sakura's suggestion for resolving it wasn't exactly the best idea ever....

I'm also not sure as to how much Lancer actually knows about what happened during the Heaven's Feel. He got taken out before most of the big shit went down. Did he know about the worms or Zouken, and about Shirou's baddassery? Did someone just fill him in?

Well, he certainly didn't seem to know the precise details of Rider's situation, and if he knew about Sakura, I think it's safe to say that he never told Ayako.

[Neir]

Yes, but Shirou seems more pissed than just 'o that zany horndog'. If he's unconsciously making a face reserved for a version of himself he cannot intrinsically accept, that seems like a bit more than just concern for Ayako.

[Elf]

Yes, but Shirou seems more pissed than just 'o that zany horndog'. If he's unconsciously making a face reserved for a version of himself he cannot intrinsically accept, that seems like a bit more than just concern for Ayako.

Archer and Shirou's . . . relationship is a bit interesting. Remember, Shirou did have Archer's arm attached and his memories bleed into him.

But . . . nothing on Archer getting arrested?

(And honestly, I almost had him kill the poor lab tech girl in the morgue.)

[Mike1984]

But . . . nothing on Archer getting arrested?

Well, he was trying to save people, he was working for Raiga, he's the stand-in Second Owner and he's a magus, so I'd assume he'll get out easily enough....

(And honestly, I almost had him kill the poor lab tech girl in the morgue.)

He did?

I thought someone else had attacked her....

[Neir]

Yeah, I just chalk the arrest up to Archer's luck.

[Elf]

Part Five: The Golden Rule

Lancer was merrily whistling to himself as he stocked flimsy metal shelves with various confections and other assorted goods. Keen eyes raked over labels proclaiming steamed cakes, melon bread, and red bean filling. People were milling about as they collected their wears as the Irish hero worked diligently at making sure they had wares to choose from. It was simple yet honest work, and it raked up a paycheck bigger than the one at the Florist had.

Of course, what he’d rather be doing would be crossing blades in battle with the smell of sweat and blood thick in the air.

Not much of that going on lately, he thought with a sigh as he filled a shelf full of banana crème rolls. Ayako feels almost as at odds as I do, he thought as a smile filled his face. Had he a tail it would have been wagging at the thought of his amber eyed vixen. A slow, steady charge was tingling along sensitive skin in anticipation. He had won her favor again, and this time he wasn’t going to lose it until they both decided to part ways.

Unlike most women she wasn’t asking for forever, just for some fun now. That fact alone intrigued the hell out of him and the fact she was gorgeous and had the sort of body meant for both battle and taking a man just made her even sweeter. He wondered if she’d ever been touched before, or if he was going to be the one to introduce her to the pleasures of the flesh. That thought alone spread his grin wide enough to almost crack his face.

“Did you hear about what happened in that clinic in Miyama-cho?”

Lancer shrugged and was going to ignore the low gossiping of housewives until another equally low female voice said, “One dead and that poor girl in critical care.”

“My sister works at that clinic. They arrested some giant man wielding a pair of short swords,” the first woman said.

Giant man with short swords . . . Lancer frowned, that sounded all too familiar.

The second woman made a clicking sound with her tongue before sighing. She said, “I thought we were past all of that nonsense that happened last winter.”

“Well, you know the killer was never caught, just the murders stopped happening,” the first woman said with a snort.

The second one replied, “You think he came back?”

“I just hope he gets what’s coming to him,” the first one snorted.

Lancer frowned as the fishwives conversation turned elsewhere, to some actress or TV show. He rubbed the back of his neck as the implications rang heavily. A quick glance to the wall signaled that within fifteen minutes there would be time enough to ask questions with a hefty price. Lancer turned back to his cart filled with pastries and took a quick look around. For the moment the isle was completely empty with no interlopers or “normal” people.

He hadn’t been the quickest Servant because the rest of them were all slow blokes. The Hound of Ulster moved in a blaze, kicking up tiny puffs of dust with each rapid step as items were packed into place. Then he moved to the next isle to tidy it up, careful not to get caught. Yet the clock continued to drag at its agonizing pace, the fifteen minutes not running themselves up in a hurried fashion. One foot tapped against tile as Lancer stared at the clock before he got his time to himself.

When the hand made its final rotation to where it needed to go, Lancer all but ran to the back room. The heavy white apron that was regulatory wear was thrown off to flutter to the table. At the back of the room on a tiny, flimsy table was a simple black phone. He stopped as he dug into his trousers to find his wallet. He opened it and pulled out a thick piece of parchment paper with neat, precise handwriting and a number. It would be international distance, but Lancer didn’t want to make a good lass cry if he didn’t have to.

As much as I’d like to dance with the Bowman again, I don’t want to condemn an innocent man either, Lancer thought as he stared at Tohsaka Rin’s information scrawled on that sheet of paper. She had given it to him one day after school without her Archer’s knowing. She then all but placed a geas on him to make him promise to call if Archer was ever in any danger. “Bollocks,” he said as he had no idea what to do.

His eyes drifted from the phone back to the paper before it was secured back into his wallet. The billfold made its way home back into a snug pocket while the phone lay untouched in its cradle. “The hell with it,” Lancer said before picking up the phone and pounding the correct sequence of numbers in.

A shrill ring filled his ears and made him flinch. He pulled the earpiece away from him with a grimace as it continued to ring, ring, and ring. An irate foot tapped restlessly against the floor to accompany the harsh shrill ring, but there was no answer. “Well, bugger it. Lass, if you want me to call you, then bloody be there,” Lancer snapped at the phone before slamming it into its cradle.

He stood to his full height and said, “Bowman can take care of himself . . .”

Unless he’s gotten over his head, Lancer thought as he began to grin. If Archer had found himself defeated, then what an opponent that would be. Fists clinched in anticipation to feel steel between their palms and the hot spray of blood on them once again.

******

“Where the hell did those swords go?”

Archer sighed as he rested his bound hands on the metal table before him. Keen eyes raked over the cuffs digging into bronze wrists. Trace On. Analyze. Break into the required eight parts. Three inherent flaws in the links. The left cuff’s lock is weak and a good blow would break it open.

“Hey, asshole, didn’t you hear me?” the gruff voice snapped at him again.

Archer’s eyes narrowed as he replied, “I believe you were imagining these swords you keep talking about.” My imagination brought them into reality, he thought as he looked at the stout police officer standing there. His suit was wrinkled, the tie did not match and he had a good day’s growth of beard littering his face.

His partner, better kept save for the hair that was receding farther and father back into his head, rested a slim hand on his partner’s broad shoulder. “Easy there, Hiro, we don’t know if this guy killed Dr. Hirano or not,” he said in a low, haunting voice.

“Besides, the wounds on Dr. Hirano’s throat weren’t caused by a blade,” Archer said as he eyed the two detectives, “And Hoshi-san’s wound was made by teeth, which your forensics agents already explained to you.”

Hiro’s dark eyes narrowed and he said, “I don’t think I like your tone of voice . . . what the hell was this guy’s name again?”

“Archer,” the slimmer detective said.

Hiro snapped, “What sort of name is that, Keichi?”

“A foreign one,” Keichi said with a hint of a smile.

Archer shrugged and said, “My adopted mother was German.” Or would have been, if she would have survived the War.

“We’re running your record, and we’re going to keep you here until we get some damned answers from you. And you sure as hell can explain why you had these,” Hiro said before throwing the manila folder that Seto had given Archer mere hours before on the table before him.

Keichi said, “Come on Hiro.”

“Fucking freak,” Hiro said with a sneer before storming out of the room. Keichi gave him an apologetic smile before following his partner.

Archer sighed as he looked at the handcuffs encircling his wrists. It would be all too easy to shatter them and escape, but that would simply make him look even more guilty. He narrowed his eyes at the Dead that had attacked at the morgue, apparently waking up during its autopsy with a severe need to feed. Considering all that physical damage, that’s not surprising, he thought as the image of the ruined mess of its chest coming to mind.

He wanted to call Fujimura to have him arrange so Archer could legally leave, but Detective Kurosawa Hiro would have none of that. So all Archer could do was wait. While I’m stuck here there’s a chance those other three might rise as the Dead and do the same.

He flexed his hands as the image of the girl with the wide eyes behind glasses came to mind. The feel of her blood had been hot against his skin as he had bound her wound with blessed cloth. Cloth that probably suddenly vanished as soon as they pulled me away from the morgue, Archer said. His eyes narrowed as he thought, And if she does die, then chances are at will that she’ll wake up as one of the Dead.

I should have cut her head off, not treated her wounds.

And if the other three had enough potential to wake up as the Dead . . .

I wonder if Satsujinki is active in this reality, Archer mused. He sighed and stretched out his long legs, knowing fully well he wasn’t going to be going anywhere for a long time. He’d been arrested like this many times before due to misunderstandings or the like. It was just best to let them shake him around a little bit, realize they have nothing substantial on him and then let him go. However there were situations like this where time was of the essence.

The chance for a person bitten to become even a Dead was rather slim, but the one who had apparently awakened during his autopsy had enough potential to rise again. Due to the corpse’s physical condition due to the autopsy it was probably starving for blood to heal itself. The medical examiner and his tech had been the unfortunate ones who were in the clichéd wrong place at the wrong time. The fact that the girl was still alive was a cold comfort because there was always the chance she could turn and would be in an area for more potential victims.

“A vicious cycle,” Archer said with a shake of his head and a sigh.

Footsteps sounded outside of the interrogation room, more sure and lighter than the two detectives’ footfalls. Frowning, Archer turned to look at the glass window at the door to see a flash of golden blond. His body tensed as the door was flung open with a bang and a pair of nearly glowing crimson eyes met his.

“Faker,” was the King of Heroes’ greeting as the other man’s gorgeous countenance spread into a slow smile.

Archer tensed and reinforced, throwing his arms apart in a smooth movement. Links of steel shattered like glass before skidding across the table and the floor as bound hands were now free. The chair clattered to the floor as its occupant rose to his full height and prana flared through circuits in preparation.

“Such a welcome for a king, Faker?” Gilgamesh said with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

Archer smirked and said, “Forgive me for bowing, but you should understand in all of your wisdom why I don’t trust you.”

“Hmph,” Gilgamesh replied with his lower lip thrust out ever so slightly as he folded his arms over his chest, “I come to do you a favor and I’m treated poorly.” He shook his head with a sigh before raking his eyes over Archer.

Archer studied him, taking in the Armani charcoal grey suit with the red shirt and black tie underneath it along with equally designer loafers with no socks. Apparently, Gilgamesh was adapting rather well to this time without the Grail’s taint affecting his sanity. True the former king had aspirations about ruling the world, but he had quickly found out that money was the new power in this day and age. With his already ingrained wealth and charisma he had become the CEO of a company called Golden Rule which apparently handled everything from aviation to zoology.

Behind closed doors Archer knew that Gilgamesh had a cadre of powerful magi at his beck and call as well.

With his sanity regained, Archer knew that even with his still substantial ego, there was no way he could win a battle against the Golden King. If he so choose, Gilgamesh could make him a bloody stain on the wall and spin it into his favor for the public. However Gilgamesh had some sort of strange fascination with the “Faker” much to Archer’s dismay.

“I didn’t ask for your favor,” Archer replied as his eyes shifted to the door.

Gilgamesh smiled and said, “Of course not. That is one of the reasons I adore you, Faakkkkeeerrrr.”

The word was all but a purr on the King’s lips, more of a lover’s endearment than an insult.

“I’m so damned lucky,” Archer said with a snort and a shake of his head.

Gilgamesh smiled and said, “And such cutting wit. You know, if you worked for me you would want for nothing. Beautiful women, finery, automobiles . . . I would even allow you to indulge in your penchant for manual labor.”

“I’m not going to be your damned pet,” Archer retorted, “Why don’t you go bother Lancer and Rider?”

“The mongrel and the harlot? While I have a fondness for wild animals, that mongrel does nothing for me not to mention he is loud and bothersome. The harlot . . . it is a king’s right to take only what is pure and new,” Gilgamesh said with a snort.

Archer laughed and said, “And who the hell said I was pure and new?”

“Well, you are useful. Despite what little you have and copy, you make a place for yourself here. You protect what is mine from harm,” Gilgamesh said with a shrug, “That . . . intrigues me.”

Archer groaned, “Goddamn it.”

“So you were inspecting some monster eating my subjects?” Gilgamesh asked with a smile.

Archer frowned but nodded, knowing that lying would get him bound in chains and bent
over that desk.

Which had happened once before.

Rin had watched with wide eyes and a look that scared Archer more than just a little bit.

It was something he wasn’t going to talk about and only Rin and Sakura knew about it. Gilgamesh was going to approach Rin to work for him, Rin, unknowing who he was exactly, was going to take the offer. Archer cut her off and it ended in combat. Or rather, bound in divine chains with Gilgamesh laughing in his ear as something poked him that he really didn’t want to think about.

Ever.

Like he was right now.

Goddamn it.

“I see that old man told you about it,” Gilgamesh said with a frown as his perfectly manicured hand swept across the table to pick up the manila folder. The heavy folder was opened and the glossy photographs paged through as a wide mouth settled into a thin line. “Disgusting filth. It would be an insult to beasts to call these things such.”

“Well, considering your fondness for beasts . . .” Archer said with a shrug.

Gilgamesh smirked and said, “I have a fondness for a great and many things that are defiant to me to the end.” Then the smirk was wiped clean from his face as the blond shut the folder and threw it back on the table. “He would have enjoyed your company I think. He was quick with his tongue too.”

“Which you enjoyed,” Archer muttered.

The smile grew across Gilgamesh’s face anew as he said, “I would like to see how well you use yours.”

“You’re not my type,” Archer said and swallowed hard as the king took a step closer to him.

Gilgamesh simply smiled and said, “It is a king’s right to take the virtue of a virgin if they so choose.”

“Well, I’m not a virgin,” Archer said with a laugh.

Lashes fluttered over crimson eyes as Gilgamesh said, “In rebirth everything is pure once again, Faker, and I am not the only one who values purity.”

Archer frowned and said, “It’s not your style to be cryptic, King of Heroes.”

“I spent too much time with the priest. It was an easy habit to pick up,” Gilgamesh said with a shrug, “Pity, I think you two would have enjoyed each other’s company.”

Archer surprised himself by saying, “I think we would have.”

“Well, I will do you this favor, but one day I will collect,” Gilgamesh said with a smile as he headed out of the interrogation room.

“Somehow I’m not surprised,” Archer said with a sigh as moments later Gilgamesh reappeared with a slender black man with his head shaved bald in a blue pinstripe suit. Behind them Hiro and Keichi came in, Hiro looking like he wanted to punch an all but purring Gilgamesh in the face as Archer’s bail was arranged.

(Subtitle to this Part is: Or Everyone is GAR for Archer)