After sending off Myorenji Aki—no, Scandinavia Peperoncino, as he is now known—on his flight, I rendezvoused with my other selves and began to move.
The puppets of the Deva Path and the Animal Path.
To catch the Tengu off guard, I had intentionally utilized female-form puppets, but their strength was far beneath my expectations. Perhaps my Rinnegan had simply grown too powerful after my second brush with the Swirl of the Origin.
In any case, having dispatched the first Crypter toward the Clock Tower, I turned my gaze back to Misaki City to retrieve the second.
The mansion in the heart of Misaki City was now bustling with residents. To a man, they were all individuals connected to 'me.' More accurately, they were the core pieces for the Chaldea project I was currently architecting.
Aoko-nee was currently wandering the globe under the guise of travel, searching for the person I had requested... or rather, the immortal Elemental, Yu Mei-ren. As for the rest, excluding those currently at the Clock Tower and Shiki Ryougi—whose family home was in Mifune City—virtually everyone was taking up residence in that mansion.
Kiritsugu Emiya and the Einzbern couple; my parents, who had caught wind of my involvement with the 'Mystery' of this world; Lugh Beowulf, who had been thoroughly tamed into a docile hound; and even Ritsuka Suse, who had appeared out of nowhere to occupy a room without permission.
I had even lured the Fujimaru siblings, Ritsuka and Shirou, with the promise of cheap rent to keep them under my protection. In essence, the house had become a nexus of preparation for the future.
"It's been a while, Emiya-san. Have you been well?"
"Yes. Things have been manageable... though I heard you've gone through another ordeal?"
"Well... it's been resolved, so no harm done. How are Iri-san and Illya-young lady doing?"
"Not bad. Their bodies are homunculi to begin with; they aren't susceptible to human diseases... More importantly, how is the Crypter situation progressing? I recall being told there would be work for me once the internal purge is complete."
"I'd like to ask you to serve as a sort of instructor, teaching survival skills and the associated Magecraft. Of course, that's only after we've cleared Marisbury Animusphere out of the way..."
Kiritsugu nodded slowly at my words.
"The Einzberns have already secured a significant stake in Chaldea. Once his head is taken, seizing control of the facility should be simple. Didn't you say that brat had already begun the process of winning over Olga Marie Animusphere?"
"Ah, Waver, you mean... Actually, Waver made a suggestion. He asked if I had any intention of sending Illyasviel to the Clock Tower to study abroad..."
"...That is something I'll need to contemplate further."
"Don't forget the Ryougi wedding this winter."
"I should be the one saying that. Don't you spend most of your time wandering around?"
Well, I had no rebuttal for that.
After making my rounds among the residents—excluding Beowulf—and handing out the wedding invitations, I called out the man who was the true reason for my visit. It was Godword Mayday, our resident omnipotent jack-of-all-trades and 'Doraemon.'
"So, why have you summoned me? If this is about Zephia and the Melty Blood business, we still have quite some time..."
"We are going to retrieve the final Crypter."
"Crypter... Ah, you mean young Daybit. But I'm not certain my abilities will work on the 'amnesia' he experiences..."
"We won't know until we try. And at the very least, I suspect we have a ninety-percent chance of success."
There was a single hypothesis shared by Touko Aozaki and myself: that 'memories' are inextricably linked to the soul.
The fact that the soul is tied to personality is evident if one looks at the case of Zouken Matou—formerly Makiri Zolgen. As someone who tinkers with the soul using a pseudo-Third Magic, I knew this to be a certainty. Then, what about memories?
"At the Root, I was stripped of my memories of the future. But what if I had been stripped of the memories of my past life—those that allow me to maintain myself as 'me'?"
"...It would have been no ordinary problem. Perhaps a machine focused solely on the Restoration of the Human Order would have been born."
"Exactly."
The cold, calculated rationality of Daybit Sem Void was a byproduct of his curse-like trait—being able to store only five minutes of memory.
Looking at this... couldn't one say that memories influence a human's nature, and by extension, their personality and soul?
"With your 'Oblivion Recording,' it might be impossible to recall every memory at once, but it should be possible to 'record' a full day's worth of memories and play them back at will. Your 'past' self also possessed sufficient memories; the issue was that the 'classification' of those memories was impossible."
"...I see your point. If we proceed that way, we might be able to help him without any major backlash, regardless of the true nature of that 'Angel's Artifact.'"
Daybit's condition was such that he functioned normally within short-term memory during the day, but every 24 hours, all memories were purged except for five minutes.
But if all those memories could be recorded and replayed at will?
"So, where are we heading?"
"Las Vegas. The Einzberns sent over information regarding his location."
The two of us boarded a plane to the United States. After a few hours of flight, we set foot on American soil.
*
A Grand-tier Magus and a puppeteer who had reached the Swirl of the Origin.
We entered without bothering with a disguise, simply taking a standard commercial flight, yet there was no sign of anyone surveilling us at the airport.
After disembarking, we quickly caught a domestic flight to Las Vegas, arriving after a much shorter journey.
"So this is the city of pleasure, Las Vegas... Hard to believe Area 51, the famous mystery, is just north of here."
"To be precise, the 'catch' is that there are dozens of kilometers between the two."
In a place as vast as Las Vegas, searching for a young blonde man—a common enough appearance—using only a name would be like finding a needle in a desert. We decided to use a more 'convenient' and 'simple' method.
Namely, seeking out the local information brokers or powerful figures.
Through the right 'negotiation,' finding our target's location would be trivial.
"Did you get any specifics from the Einzberns?"
"They gave me a few names of influential people in Las Vegas. Two of them are government officials, so we should head to the third one."
"...Who is it?"
"They say he's the owner of the G.D.R Casino."
The casinos of Las Vegas were gaudy enough to make one's head spin.
However, Godword, having experienced the bizarre hobby of playing back other people's memories, was no longer easily swayed by sensory stimuli. For my part, I possessed more wealth than I could ever win by gambling. We were unaffected by the dazzling spectacles within, exchanging only the minimum amount of chips required for entry before wandering the floor.
After watching some dolphins frolicking for a moment, Godword was the first to speak.
"I don't know who owns this casino, but this facility is protected by a quite impressive level of Magecraft."
"...It's an illusion system. It confuses a person's sense of time and disperses their senses. Its concealment capabilities are no joke."
"...A coincidence. I felt the same thing."
The wealthy were placing reckless, oversized bets while onlookers cheered with burning excitement.
The air was filled with flashy shows and music designed to cloud judgment. The dealers moved like clockwork, shuffling cards and rolling dice to hollow out the pockets of the patrons.
Those who won moved as if in a trance toward even higher stakes, wagering their everything. Those who lost, rather than leaving, traded away their clothes or watches for more chips. And those left with absolutely nothing were ushered out through a 'certain door' hidden by clever illusions.
"...This illusion feels familiar."
"You recognize it?"
"Yes... A personal acquaintance. Rare is the person who leaves such a vivid—and frankly, annoying—memory for someone like me, who cares for little besides collecting memories."
"Ah, wait a second..."
I think I was beginning to realize exactly who owned this godforsaken casino.