Chapter 69 His Presence, Uninvited
The Snowfield Police Department looked like the classic model of a police station often seen in TV dramas.
The overall structure was a massive monolith, complete with a parking lot, a front lobby, and office areas—every type of facility fully accounted for. The central building stood about thirteen stories high, its architectural structure forming a complex geometric pattern with countless departments and rooms inside; no one but internal personnel would know where to find a specific individual.
But the most significant difference was...
"There's definitely a boundary here."
TV dramas didn't feature supernatural powers like "Magecraft."
While this police station functioned as a police station, it was simultaneously a stronghold for a Magus Master. Consequently, its perimeter was entirely shrouded by several layers of magical boundaries blended into the environment.
Shirou stood at the edge of the parking lot, observing the situation from beside a sedan, holding his hand near the boundary at a slight distance.
With his specialized and limited level of magecraft, Shirou couldn't decipher the specific effects of these boundaries, but he theorized they were of the "Detection" and "Defense" types. After all, it was impossible to deploy open firepower suppression under the public eye near a police station.
If he walked in, the fact that "someone has intruded" would be exposed to the boundary's owner. If he destroyed it, the owner would also know. This boundary was the window of connection to Caster's Master.
In truth, Shirou could have repeated his old trick: first violently destroying the boundary, and then inviting Caster's Master to come down in that manner. But after a moment's thought, Shirou chose a more mature approach.
The sound of footsteps rang softly. Even knowing a boundary was right before his eyes, Shirou walked straight into it.
As he initiated the intrusion, his hands consumed about 10 units of mana to briefly project Kanshou and Bakuya for a split second, using the temporarily boosted Magic Resistance to nullify the boundary's anti-personnel interference effects. Feeling only a sensation like spider silk brushing against his skin, Shirou confirmed he had entered the "interior." The scenery before him remained unaffected—neither blurred nor sharpened. While observing, Shirou began walking toward the front lobby without hesitation.
Rather than waiting for someone to find him, the current Shirou preferred to find them proactively.
.
.
.
Snowfield Police Department, Chief's Office
One of the members of Clan Calatin, a young man named John, was standing before the Chief.
It was standard for Clan Calatin to carry their respective armaments; even the Chief himself wore a long sword. But John had no weapon, because his Noble Phantasm had been crushed into dust by a Dead Apostle on the first day of the Holy Grail War.
The Chief had called him here precisely to replace his weapon.
"I will confirm this once more. Do you still possess the will to fight? You are currently in a position where it is logical for you not to fight. It wouldn't be strange if your resolve shifted after encountering that bloodsucker; you still have the right to choose."
John clenched his fists and stood tall with conviction: "I still yearn to fight."
"Combat against Heroic Spirits will only be more dangerous than that bloodsucker."
"That applies to you as well, sir. As the Master, you bear the primary risk of being targeted. You have never flinched."
After a moment of silence, the Chief sighed: "I understand."
The Chief picked up a box from his desk and handed it to John. He gestured for John to open it himself.
Following instructions, John slowly opened the box to see a pitch-black dagger, its blade wrapped in a cloth-like material. This dagger possessed neither a powerful pressure nor a reflective glint; it was simply silent, as if it had absorbed all light. John didn't understand why the blade was specifically wrapped.
While John's entire attention was fixed on the blade, the Chief answered before the question could be asked: "Listen well. Unless you hold killing intent toward your opponent, never point this blade at anyone. This dagger... forget it, just understand that what is on it is a poison. Once it pierces someone, no matter who they are, they will die from the toxin."
The Chief glanced at the telephone with a headache.
Although Caster had volunteered to explain things to John face-to-face, the Chief really didn't trust him to explain the precautions clearly. In the end, the Chief handled it personally first. It might be a persistent professional habit he needed to break.
John's eyes flickered, his hand hovering hesitantly over the hilt:
"Something this precious... is it really suitable to give to me?"
"Your performance in the ambush during the last battle with the vampire was excellent. Giving this dagger to you is only natural. It's not about gifting you something precious, but about me utilizing you to bring out its maximum effect."
Since it had to be used in battle anyway, the right tool should be given to the right person. The Chief's reasoning made John feel he was still far from worthy, and he accepted the armament without further objection. He took a deep breath, his neat uniform brimming with spirit.
"Yes, sir!"
The Chief subtly hid his gratification, witnessing the moment Clan Calatin combat power returned to full strength, and instructed:
"Seeing you alone this time was just to explain the armament. You may return to your unit. Additionally, later you will go to Caster with a few other candidates I've selected; that is an agreement between him and me."
Humanity.
The Chief relaxed his brow, intending to see the member of Clan Calatin out.
—That thought lasted only until an electrical current of magical energy surged up his spine.
"!?"
The Chief's expression changed so drastically that John, who was about to leave the office, froze on the spot in astonishment. Without waiting for the youth to ask, the Chief's calm, concise explanation came through:
"A magus who is not on our side has entered the boundary."
Ignoring John behind him, the Chief accessed the surveillance system at maximum speed. A kaleidoscope of monitoring screens from multiple angles displayed the general imagery of the police station's main routes. The Chief's gaze swept rapidly across the different monitors until he finally found the "extra" person.
Because it was, arguably, the worst possible sight, the Chief's body recoiled heavily by one step.
The surveillance footage at the Police Department was in color. So, he was spared the effort of identifying pixels. Because the Chief only knew one person with that specific shade of red hair.
Technically, he was just a human.
However, as the saying goes, "every creature has its predator." To the Chief and his men, he was the most unforgettable and guarded existence.
On the surveillance screen, the man stood in the police station lobby, his expression casual, showing not a hint of hostility. He was chatting with the front desk, his lips moving. He truly appeared like a sunny citizen returning a lost item, manifesting in the Chief's domain with an almost ghostly naturalness.
—"Ex-cuse me, how do I get to the Chief's of-fice?"
As he read the lip movements, a powerful chill washed over the Chief.
'It's you!?
What are you doing at the Police Department!?'
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