Sherlock Holmes stared at Moriarty and said:
"That's the ability to ensure the bullet hits its target under any circumstance. That's right—Moriarty's Phantom Spirit happens to be 'The Magic Marksman', a hunter named Max who made a deal with the devil to obtain seven magic bullets. Max was absorbed by Moriarty. Six shots—he can overcome causality and hit the target within those six bullets. Conversely, his ability is limited to six shots. He can't even control the seventh bullet. Moreover, this ability leans more toward 'hitting the target' rather than 'causing damage'. Originally, it was just a Phantom Spirit passed down in ordinary operas, but Moriarty managed to weaponize it."
"I see. No wonder," Moriarty said, with a knowing expression. "Summoned not as a Caster, but as an Archer. I've never used this coffin in my life, and now it's shooting bullets like bang bang."
Jalter shouted in shock, "You just realized this now?!"
"Thus, the falling meteorite will be loaded into the gun as a magic bullet to hit the planet."
Holmes finally turned his head and looked at Ritsuka Fujimaru, saying, "If Moriarty's theory is accurate, then the planet will be killed. The ultimate massacre—not just killing humans, but destroying the world, the planet itself. This is, without a doubt, the most heinous crime in history."
"The goal is clear then. We need to destroy the gun-tower and stop the meteorite from falling. Now it's time to crush the last Phantom Demon Alliance."
Snapping his fingers, Alaric smiled and said, "Assassin's disguise is too perfect. I can't find him. Do any of you have a way to locate that Assassin?"
The man disguised as Cursed Arm Hassan was even faster than Lobo. Combine that with his ability to flawlessly imitate others, and Alaric couldn't track him down.
Of course, leveling all of Shinjuku in one go would undoubtedly reveal him.
But doing so would go against Ritsuka Fujimaru's purpose.
However, with so many brilliant minds present, this wasn't a problem Alaric needed to solve himself.
"I have a plan—"
Having exchanged information with Holmes, Moriarty smiled as his gaze swept across everyone present.
With Holmes' intel in hand, Moriarty had already devised a strategy to capture Shinjuku's Assassin.
However, this plan required the cooperation of many to succeed.
That's a story for a little later…
...
In this hellish Shinjuku, a hierarchy naturally existed—it was a world dominated by wealth.
As long as you had money, you could enjoy luxury and prosperity.
"Please present your invitation."
The attendant at the entrance took the invitation handed over by the young man, inspected it, and then stepped aside, bowing. "Welcome, sir and madam."
"Wow."
Dressed in a black suit, Alaric stepped into the golden hall. The opulent decor, endless array of delicacies, and the crowd seemingly intoxicated by the atmosphere surrounded him.
Holding onto Alaric's arm, Salter remained expressionless, as if unmoved by the extravagant scene before her.
Like Alaric, Salter wasn't wearing her usual black combat attire either. Instead, she donned a luxurious gown befitting the golden hall.
The gown accentuated her slender figure, making her elegance even more striking.
"I didn't expect it to be this easy to infiltrate."
Salter surveyed the surroundings with a calm expression. She approved of Moriarty's plan, but its smooth execution still left her slightly surprised.
As for partnering with Alaric for this infiltration, it was only natural in Salter's eyes.
After all, she couldn't let Alaric team up with Jalter, that reckless woman—
"Who knows? And honestly, I don't want to know."
Nearby, Jalter, also wearing a gown, couldn't resist mocking Salter. "You look like a wax statue, and your knight over there—what a matching pair you make…"
This elicited a sigh from Ritsuka Fujimaru, who stood beside Jalter in her gown, looking slightly uncomfortable.
Unlike Jalter's teasing, Ritsuka was more preoccupied with her unfamiliar outfit. This was the first time she had worn something as form-fitting as a gown, which highlighted her figure.
"You look like a witch. Why don't you go destroy France while you're at it?" Salter quipped, glancing at Jalter's gown. The deep-cut dress exposed Jalter's flawless back, though her cascading hair partially covered it.
Her long, fair legs beneath the skirt exuded a powerful presence.
This aesthetic was not Jalter's own doing. If not for Moriarty's intervention, Salter was certain this country bumpkin would've picked something more aligned with her usual tastes.
"Hehehe, careful, or I'll burn you to death."
Jalter smirked. "You b***h."
"You're made for burning, aren't you?"
Salter was about to continue her banter when she noticed the object in Jalter's hand. "What's that?"
"A radio, for communication," Jalter replied flatly.
Alaric, standing beside Salter, also noticed the radio in Jalter's hand. He wasn't particularly concerned about staying in touch with Moriarty or Holmes.
What intrigued him more was Fumimaru standing next to Jalter.
Looking at the slightly uneasy girl, Alaric couldn't help but smile. "You look great!"
Originally, there was no need for Ritsuka Fujimaru to be here. Alaric, Salter, and Jalter alone could've carried out Moriarty's plan.
However, unwilling to sit idly by, Ritsuka decided to join in, which ultimately satisfied Moriarty's desire to dress her up. The gown she wore showcased the beauty of life itself, her vitality standing out like a blooming flower amidst the decadence of the golden hall.
"Don't tease me! Sir Alaric—ugh," Ritsuka said with a shy smile, her cheeks slightly flushed. "This is my first time wearing something like this."
Was her embarrassment more about the outfit or something else entirely? That much was unclear.
["Haha, well, since that Assassin has already seen you, a disguise is necessary!"]
At that moment, Moriarty's voice came through the radio Jalter held. He and Holmes were waiting outside.
["Besides, isn't this fun?"]
"Fun—"
Ritsuka had no response, opting instead to cover her reddening ears.
It felt a little warm—
Seeing this, Alaric and Salter exchanged glances and said in unison, "This is the kind of moment that needs to be recorded and uploaded to the Chaldea servers!"
Three beauties in gowns—it was a rare and unforgettable sight.
What followed was Alarc witnessing the lengths Salter would go to. She even went so far as to forcibly requisition a nearby camera.
Although a camera can capture moments, there's no need to create something that cannot be preserved for long.
Click, click, click.
The flash of the camera illuminated the four figures again and again. While Salter's original intention was simply to take pictures of Ritsuka Fujimaru and Alaric, at Alaric's strong insistence, both herself and Jalter were also included in the photos.
"Beautiful!"
Alaric gave Jalter and Ritsuka Fujimaru a thumbs-up and smiled, "Thanks for being such gracious hosts!"
After successfully taking plenty of photos, Salter, satisfied, handed the camera back to Ritsuka Fujimaru. Then, she turned her gaze to Alaric, who seemed eager to stir up even more excitement, and smiled. "Before the Assassin of Shinjuku shows up, it seems we have some time for other things."
"Oh?"
Looking at the Dragon Tyrant exuding an air of assertiveness, Alaric seemed to sense something.
Truthfully, having interacted with the normal version of Artoria before, Alaric found the current Alter version of Artoria to be exceptionally refreshing.
Salter exhibited a strong sense of aggression—or perhaps it was better described as an initiative?
Her demeanor radiated confidence, making her appear gallant and heroic.
Tap, tap.
The sound of high heels clicking against the floor was clear and deliberate.
Although her figure wasn't particularly tall, her aura was so dazzling that it couldn't be ignored.
The Dragon Tyrant walked up to the knight, slightly lifted her head to meet the face that bore some resemblance to her own, and smiled. "Since I've gone to the trouble of wearing a dress, won't you invite me for a dance, my knight?"
Immediately understanding Salter's intentions, Alaric bent slightly at the waist and smiled. "It's my pleasure, my king."
Under the watchful eyes of Jalter and Ritsuka Fujimaru, Alaric took Salter's delicate hand and began to dance to the melody echoing through the grand hall.
A dance between a king and a knight, a resonance between dragons.
Watching this scene, Jalter glanced at Ritsuka Fujimaru beside her, unwilling to be outdone—but in the end, she didn't voice her thoughts.
Ritsuka Fujimaru, holding the camera that Salter had handed her earlier, looked at the dancing pair. Without thinking, she raised the camera to take more pictures.
Click, click.
The sound of the shutter blended into the music, masking the emotions within the girl's heart.
"What do you think of the Lion King?"
"She's a king with a dream. Although her journey was somewhat tumultuous, I don't think I'll ever forget her in my lifetime."
"Even though it was such a shallow desire that turned you into what you are now?"
"Even so. Of course, the reason I've made it this far is because of the king who regained her heart. That was my promise to her—"
"As expected of my knight. You've done well."
"Because of her, because of you, because of all of you, I've been able to come this far…"
"Then, it's time for someone else's turn."
The king released the knight's hand without lingering over its warmth.
And the knight, under the king's gaze, turned to approach a certain ordinary girl.
Standing before her, Alaric extended his hand and smiled. "May I have this dance?"
Without a moment's hesitation—perhaps because she had been hoping for this for a long time—Fujimaru's face bloomed into a radiant smile as she nodded heavily.
"Yes!"