Note: This Chapter is Re-Translated on 6 / 15 / 2025
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Chapter 11: Gilgamesh — You dare teach me how to act?!
Shinji pressed his lips together, fingers rhythmically tapping the armrest of his director's chair as exasperation spread across his face.
Standing dead center on set, Gilgamesh crossed his arms, staring at Shinji with an expression fit for royalty—full of condescension and majesty.
"I'm telling you, Gilgamesh…"
After a long, tense standoff between their gazes, Shinji finally opened his mouth, suppressing his growing irritation.
"Can you please just follow the script for once? This ad-libbing of yours is seriously killing me here."
Gilgamesh responded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Why should I obey your directions? On what grounds must I, the King of Heroes, conform to your demands?"
"Tch."
Shinji clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed.
Gilgamesh wasn't about to back down either. Puffing out his chest, he raised his voice even more.
"Let's get something straight! How could I ever do such things?! Murder, stealing women—those are acts of tyrants! As if I, Gilgamesh, would ever lower myself to such disgrace!"
"Don't give me that crap! That is what you did, you bastard!!"
Shinji matched his volume, shouting right back.
Gilgamesh scoffed, clearly not taking the complaint seriously. He threw a glance at the actress playing the "village maiden" across from him, then spread his arms wide.
"And to top it off, you have me die in the story?! And in such a pathetic way too?! There's no way someone like her could ever defeat me!"
The "village maiden," who was none other than King Arthur herself, promptly drew her sword and pointed it at him.
"King of Heroes, are you trying to pick a fight with me?"
"Ha! You think I'm scared of you? As if."
Gilgamesh grinned, sharp as ever. "Why don't we settle this right here and now—see for yourself if I'd ever lose to you!"
"I was hoping you'd say that!"
The tension in the room spiked. With both Heroic Spirits on the verge of throwing down, the staff began backing away one by one, prioritizing their lives over their jobs.
The only one who didn't move was the cameraman, who kept his lens trained on the two Servants, capturing every second of this escalating disaster.
That was Shinji's order, after all. As Shinji always said, "Never know when we might use it for bloopers or promos—film everything. Worst case, it's great meme material."
Thankfully, the two didn't end up fighting. At Shinji's pleading, Arturia reluctantly backed off.
Because if these two actually went at it, and the equipment got damaged?
Shinji Matou would absolutely lose his mind.
"Hmph. Aside from the arrogance, everything else about the 'me' in this script is complete garbage!"
Gilgamesh planted his foot on a raised set piece, jabbing a thumb toward his chest, pride oozing from every pore.
"Listen up, Shinji. You should've just let me write the damn script. I alone can depict the true majesty and elegance of Gilgamesh! No one knows Gilgamesh better than Gilgamesh!"
"Where the hell did you learn to be this self-absorbed?!"
Shinji finally snapped, leaping up on his director's chair to argue at eye level.
"Besides, do you even know what role you're playing? You're the villain! The villain, damn it!"
If Shirou and the others hadn't grabbed Shinji by the arms and held him back, he probably would've charged Gilgamesh for a full-on brawl right then and there.
"You made me this dumb! You've got a lot of nerve blaming me!!"
Gilgamesh leaned in so close their foreheads were practically touching.
"You're the antagonist! Of course I had to write you like a piece of crap! Otherwise how is Arturia supposed to look like the shining paragon of virtue?!"
"Then just make me the protagonist too!"
"And who's going to play the villain then?!"
"Who cares?! Let that peasant girl do it!"
"Like hell I will!! What kind of scam logic is that?!"
Shinji hurled his megaphone at the ground in a full-on tantrum, totally done with this nonsense.
Sure, in the screenwriting world, there's that whole "every villain is the hero of their own story" philosophy, but that absolutely didn't apply to a guy like Gilgamesh.
Still fuming, the King of Heroes jabbed a finger into Shinji's forehead and bellowed:
"Let's not ignore the real issue here: I was summoned as a Caster! So why the hell am I playing the role of an Archer, huh?!"
It was true—
The Gilgamesh that Shinji had summoned wasn't the Archer-class "Golden Bastard" from the original Fate/Stay Night timeline.
No, what he got instead was Wise King Gilgamesh, more commonly known in fan circles as "Caster Gil."
Whether it was because the Archer slot had already been snatched up by the red coat man himself—EMIYA—or because the relic Shinji used for the summoning was a set of Uruk cuneiform clay tablets, the outcome was the same:
What he got was… not quite the Gilgamesh he was expecting.
In short: Expectation—Golden Tyrant. Reality—Civil Servant King.
To make matters worse, this whole "Caster instead of Archer" thing forced Shinji to completely scrap his original plan of summoning Medea.
Instead, he pivoted hard and brought in Assassin-class Yan Qing.
Not that it mattered much—in the Fate route, Medea's screentime was practically nonexistent anyway.
With Yan Qing's skill, Doppelgänger, he could easily cosplay both as Medea and the old gatekeeper without anyone noticing the difference. Budget saved, problem solved.
At first, Shinji didn't really mind that he summoned Caster Gil instead of Archer Gil.
In fact, he actually thought this version might be better.
After all, compared to A-Gil—the man who literally did whatever he wanted and never listened to anyone—C-Gil had the vibe of a diligent and rational king. Someone who could actually hold a conversation.
But oh, how naïve he'd been.
Reality hit Shinji in the face like a 360° spinning clothesline.
Yes, Caster Gil could talk.
Yes, he agreed to star in Shinji's film.
But the moment he read the script, he exploded.
Not only did he reject the entire concept of playing a "villain," he also ranted about how completely absurd the portrayal of Archer Gil was in the story.
"This is disgraceful!" he'd shouted.
"Do I look like some country bumpkin tyrant swinging swords at peasants for fun?!"
Shinji couldn't even be bothered to retort anymore.
If anything, that version of Gilgamesh felt pretty spot-on, given how he behaved across all three routes of Fate/Stay Night.
No paddles, no brakes, and every route more unhinged than the last.
But this was only the beginning.
Gilgamesh didn't just complain about the script—he rewrote it.
And worse yet, during rehearsals, he constantly improvised, changing lines, altering scenes, and trying to rewrite the part where he was supposed to be defeated by Arturia.
According to His Majesty the King himself, "In this scenario, the only logical outcome is my victory."
"No one understands me better than I do!" declared Fuyuki's newly crowned King of Self-Awareness, Gilgamesh the Wise.
The only real upside to summoning Caster Gil?
At least Shinji didn't have to worry about being stabbed in the back for "fun" by Kirei on this route.
"Ugh… actors these days,"
Shinji slumped back into his director's chair, grumbling darkly.
"Dammit, if this guy keeps freelancing his own personality into every scene, I swear—I'm just gonna cast some middle-aged Korean actor to play him instead!"
"Why a Korean?!"
Shirou's expression twitched.
"Wouldn't it make more sense to get Yan Qing instead? We could have Archer-san fake the Gate of Babylon FX in post…"
But Shinji wasn't listening anymore.
He was too busy gnawing on his thumbnail, seriously weighing the pros and cons of firing Gilgamesh from the role entirely.
To be honest, Shinji didn't think the role of "Gilgamesh" was all that hard to play.
As long as the actor could radiate arrogance, pride, and sheer ego, the rest would practically write itself.
In truth, this Gilgamesh role really wasn't that hard to play.
Aside from a few fight scenes, the character barely interacted with anyone else.
In terms of acting difficulty, it was probably the easiest role in the entire film.
If Caster Gil had just a little less pride, Shinji could've handed him the script and walked away.
All the role required was for him to stand in front of the camera, spew some arrogant one-liners in the most overbearing tone possible, then whip out some weapons from the Gate of Babylon and start chucking them at people.
That's it.
Play himself on camera until the director yells "cut."
Then slap on the voice lines in post-production and boom—scene done.
He barely even needed to move.
Most of his scenes were just him standing around like a really smug statue.
Of course, that only applied if the real Gilgamesh was playing himself.
The moment Shinji started thinking about a replacement, things got… complicated.
Because if they did recast the role, the cost of reproducing all the Gate of Babylon effects would shoot through the roof.
Even using EMIYA's projection magic as a substitute wouldn't quite cut it—the visuals just wouldn't have the same impact.
Not to mention, it cost EMIYA a lot more mana to project each Noble Phantasm than it cost Gil to casually fling them out of his treasury like expired coupons.
From a budget standpoint, keeping Gilgamesh was still the best option.
Replacing him?
That was the nuclear button—last resort.
As for the idea of having Yan Qing cross-dress and impersonate Gil?
Absolutely out of the question.
Gilgamesh didn't give a damn about public image, sure.
But he did care about authenticity.
If he saw a fake version of himself on screen, he'd probably blow up the entire set—with the actor, director, and camera included.
So Shinji knew he needed a new strategy.
"Looks like I'll have to take a different approach..."
After a long moment of silence, Shinji stood up from his chair and walked straight up to Gilgamesh, who was still lounging like a king with absolutely no intention of compromising.
"Hey, King of Heroes," Shinji said calmly.
"Hah? What dumb idea are you cooking up now, Shinji? I've told you from the very beginning—I'm not some mindless brute. I am a wise king, a ruler meant to guide his people, not some violent caricature."
Shinji's eyes lit up.
He stared hard at the lazy golden-haired monarch in front of him, mind already racing.
Bingo.
Maybe—just maybe—this could work.
"So... Your Majesty dislikes that arrogant version of yourself too, huh?"
Gilgamesh let out a disdainful huff.
"Of course I do. I'm perfectly aware of how foolish I was back then. But that doesn't mean you get to twist the story however you like. If this script is meant to reflect that immature version of me, I suggest you reconsider."
Still disinterested. Still regal. But Shinji had seen the flicker of pride in his eyes.
Then, Shinji's lips curled into a small, scheming smile.
"…Then how about this? What if we split the two versions apart—draw a clear line between the foolish you from the past… and the wise king you are now?"
Gilgamesh paused.
That one sentence seemed to hit something deep.
"…You mean… to reexamine the immature self… to contrast the past with the present…"
A thoughtful shadow fell across Gilgamesh's face, his bangs obscuring his eyes. But behind the veil, two faint red glints began to glow—an unmistakable spark of interest.
Shinji silently pumped his fist in victory.
"And in that sequel, I could even summon Enkidu to be your co-star~" he added slyly.
Gilgamesh's brows twitched ever so slightly.
"…Enkidu, huh? Best not. There's nothing left I need to say to him. It was only after his death that I became the King of Uruk. From the moment I ascended the throne, I no longer had the freedom to speak to him as I once did."
"But you're not a king now, are you?" Shinji pressed, smiling slyly. "You two could talk like friends. Like coworkers, even…"
"…Hmm."
The golden king's eyes, which had previously been clouded with frustration, began to sparkle ever so faintly.
For the first time since this whole film business began, Gilgamesh actually looked interested.
'If I could use this opportunity…'
'Set aside my title, my past…'
'And speak to Enkidu once more…'
'That might not be so bad.'
"Whew~"
Noticing the shift in Gilgamesh's demeanor, Shinji finally let out a breath of relief.
There was no point trying to threaten a guy like Gilgamesh.
Brute force didn't work. Sweet talk didn't work.
What did work, though, was dangling something the king genuinely wanted.
Something that would amuse him, pique his curiosity, or touch that oddly sentimental side buried beneath all that gold.
It was actually inspired by Shinji's recollection of the Fate/Stay Night game—specifically, the strange partnership between Gilgamesh and Kotomine Kirei.
Gil wasn't just putting up with Kirei.
He actually enjoyed him.
The mad priest was like… a source of entertainment. A rare form of "joy."
And so, for the sake of that amusement, Gilgamesh willingly tolerated things he normally wouldn't—like listening to orders.
Twisted? Probably.
But that's just how Gilgamesh was wired.
"Onii-sama… Are you seriously planning to make a whole movie just for that golden foreigner?" Sakura asked in a whisper as Shinji sat back down.
"Of course."
"…When?" Sakura blinked, puzzled.
Shinji spread his hands with a theatrical sigh.
"Maybe… after the fifteenth or sixteenth installment?"
God only knew when that would happen.
After all, his master plan wasn't limited to the Fate series.
But if Fate/Stay Night became a big hit, then eventually, the Fate/Grand Order movie arc would definitely happen.
Shinji wasn't planning to go back on his word—just… postpone it indefinitely.
"Oh, right."
He tapped his chin, lowering his voice to a secretive whisper.
"Don't tell that king about it, okay? If he finds out it's not happening anytime soon, he'll totally flip."
"If anyone leaks it, they'll be sentenced to a full day of eating Kotomine Kirei's hell-spawned Mapo Tofu!"
Shinji said it with the same friendly smile a man might wear while asking someone to walk into an execution chamber.
Everyone froze.
Sakura. Shirou. Rin. Illya. Even Arturia.
Their cheerful faces turned to ice in a single instant.
'Onii-sama… have you gone mad?'
'Wait, wait, wait—that's just terrifying to even imagine!'
'That's way too cruel, Shinji!'
'Shinji onii-chan, how are you any different from a terrorist right now?!'
'Master… can I just eat Gawain's mashed potatoes instead?'
Several heads slowly turned toward Shinji, who was back in the director's chair.
That smile.
That soft, inhuman smile.
It chilled them to their bones.
"Alright then," Shinji said cheerfully. "Let's get back to it."
And so, with Gilgamesh daydreaming about his future co-star, the rest of the crew silently cursing the director under their breath, and Shinji grinning like the world's most charming dictator…
The clapperboard snapped shut.
"Fate/Stay Night, Scene 143, Take 14, Fifth rehearsal—Action!"