After confirming he couldn't rewind Mash's worldline, Aisen immediately contacted the Fire Keeper and had her prepare supplies through the Administration.
Now that everything was ready, he turned to Doctor Roman beside him.
"The supplies are prepared. We can send them over at any time."
Roman visibly relaxed. "That's great! You've really saved us in a pinch."
"The broad direction for the long-term plan is set," Aisen continued. "There's not much point in arguing over it right now. The variables ahead are too many—details will have to be handled on the fly. When you're repairing Human Order, surprises are the norm."
It was like writing a novel: having a general outline was enough—core structure, key nodes. You couldn't expect to map every plot beat from the start.
Because you'd always think of better ideas. As you wrote and got into the rhythm, you'd find stronger arrangements and cleaner pacing.
Aisen nodded, agreeing with Roman's view.
"Exactly. As the journey unfolds, we might run into a sage on Da Vinci's level. The chat group could unlock stronger functions or items. Or we might encounter worlds that synergize with ours. Any of those could overturn our earlier plans."
Just as Aisen was about to ask Roman to take him to Chaldea's warehouse, he realized he still didn't know who the white-haired girl was—the one who'd arrived together with Fujimaru Ritsuka.
Gudako's antics had stolen everyone's attention, and that companion had been unintentionally overlooked.
Aisen cleared his throat and looked toward the white-haired girl.
"Ahem—pardon my rudeness, but the young lady who came with Fujimaru Ritsuka is…?"
Roman smacked his forehead with a soft groan. "Ah! That's on me! I got so caught up in supplies and the crisis that I forgot the most basic introductions. How discourteous!"
He straightened his lab coat and led Aisen quickly to the girl.
The instant Aisen's gaze settled on her, the Director's entire aura shifted.
The goofy, slapstick vibe from earlier vanished. In its place was the poise and elegance of an ancient magecraft lineage.
She lifted her chin slightly, eyes calm and keen—quietly asserting her identity and dignity.
"Aisen," Roman said more solemnly, "this is Chaldea's true Director—Olga Marie Asmleit Animusphere. Unfortunately, due to certain circumstances, she can only exist in this form for now."
Olga Marie gave a composed nod. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Aisen."
Roman turned to Olga Marie. "And this is the chat group's owner—the one Mash told you about—Mr. Aisen, who connects many worlds."
"Mm. I've heard of your deeds from Mash, Mr. Aisen. Thank you for the assistance you've given us."
"The pleasure is mine, Director Olga Marie," Aisen replied simply.
"When Mash speaks of Chaldea, she often shows deep respect for you. To hold the line under such conditions is admirable."
With the necessary pleasantries done, Aisen immediately returned to business.
"Doctor Roman, the supplies are ready. We can head to the warehouse and receive them now."
"Right!" Roman answered at once, and the two headed toward the storage sector together.
The corridor was empty and cold, their footsteps the only sound echoing through it.
On the way, Roman couldn't help saying, "Honestly, at first I thought you'd have to go back like we do with Spiritron Transfer—then carry things over little by little."
He pictured Aisen hauling bags through worlds again and again. Even he found the mental image a little ridiculous.
Aisen chuckled. "No need for that. The group's transfer function supports item transport. And I've set up sub-groups—companions who stayed behind coordinate from my side. Once they're ready, they just send everything over directly."
But as soon as he said it, his steps abruptly halted, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face.
He turned to Roman. "I just realized something important."
Roman blinked at him. "What?"
"Why don't you have Mash create a new sub-group? Then you could use the transfer function to send materials you collect in each Singularity back to Chaldea. You wouldn't have to worry about supplies at all…"
Roman's expression froze, an awkward heat creeping up his neck.
Right. It was that simple. Why had he and Da Vinci never thought of it?
Was their dependence on Spiritron Transfer such a deep-rooted mental habit?
Had they unconsciously assumed ordinary goods simply couldn't be delivered to Chaldea?
Wait.
Would Da Vinci really miss something that obvious?
Roman recalled the timing of Da Vinci's earlier interruption—how she'd smoothly redirected the conversation. The more he thought, the more suspicious it felt.
She'd clearly noticed his discomfort, and the "supply shortage" had probably just been a convenient excuse to defuse the moment.
And honestly—would a mere lack of supplies ever be a real problem for Da Vinci?
So what, exactly, had she seen?
How much did she know about what he was hiding?
Aisen watched Roman's face cycle through emotions until it settled on a hollow, dead-inside look. He didn't understand why, but he continued his train of thought anyway.
"Of course, realizing it now isn't a total loss. Most Singularity exploration takes place in the past—those eras can't provide modern-standard supply chains. Basic food and cloth might not differ much, but finely processed foods, industrial goods, modern pharmaceuticals… those are hard to replace in earlier periods."
He smiled in understanding.
"So I had them prepare a lot of modern pre-made meals, plus sweets and snacks in various flavors. In a high-pressure environment like this, a good meal is often the fastest way to soothe people and lift morale."
Roman managed to drag his thoughts back from Da Vinci-induced panic and force his focus onto the present.
At the word sweets, his eyes brightened immediately. A sincere, grateful smile surfaced.
"Ah! That's incredibly thoughtful! Thank you so much! Mash and Ritsuka will be thrilled. It'll be a huge boost for the entire staff's morale."
A heavy alloy warehouse door slid open slowly under pneumatic pressure, revealing the slightly empty interior.
This had once been Chaldea's powerful logistical backbone. Now, with Chaldea damaged by Lev's bombing and supplies running thin, it looked unnervingly desolate.
Tall alloy racks rose on all sides. Most were bare—only a few corners held basic supply crates, silently testifying to their current hardship.
Aisen didn't send everything at once. Cautious, he transferred a few samples first for testing.
"Safety first," he said. "Different worlds can have subtle differences in constants, supernatural environments, even physical rules. Sending a large batch immediately is risky—especially food."
Most of the test samples landed cleanly, packages intact.
But one pasta meal pack burst open the instant it hit the floor—like some invisible force expanded it from within. With a wet pop, a bizarre brown sauce and unidentifiable chunks sprayed out, releasing a smell that defied description.
The other was soda. Frost crawled over the can in seconds. It then silently twisted, collapsed, and softened into a puddle of icy metal sludge—its leaked liquid glowing an unnatural fluorescent green.
"Tch. Compatibility issues, as expected," Aisen muttered.
Roman pinched his nose and stepped back. "People without aptitude sometimes end up like this during Spiritron Transfer. Looks like cross-world item transport has plenty of restrictions too."
Aisen didn't stop there. He picked up a vacuum-sealed curry rice pack and tore it open.
A rich, tempting curry aroma immediately spread through the warehouse. Roman swallowed instinctively.
"Looks fine," Aisen said.
He checked the smell, color, and texture carefully—then took a small bite himself to confirm nothing had changed.
He ran through more samples quickly: sealed high-energy compressed biscuits, vacuum-packed dried fruits and vegetables, individually wrapped sterilized gauze, bandages, antibiotic injections…
One by one, he verified there was no disintegration, spoilage, or dangerous reaction.
After the checks, Aisen sent the final list to the Fire Keeper through a sub-group.
Moments later, light flashed repeatedly across the warehouse floor.
Neatly stacked sacks of rice and flour. Crates of perfectly sealed canned goods. Vacuum-packed jerky, dried vegetables, bags of nuts…
Several special large refrigeration cases arrived as well—packed with tightly sealed chilled meal kits, along with an astonishing quantity of desserts.
Aisen looked at the small mountain that had appeared out of thin air and clicked his tongue.
Even if the Administration had deep pockets… freeloading still made him feel a bit guilty.
"Once things stabilize on your side," he mused, "maybe the group can help the Monster Association clean up a few troublesome monsters—or handle some nasty anomaly cases for the Administration."
Just then, the warehouse's heavy alloy door cracked open again.
A thin man in Chaldea's standard uniform shuffled in, dragging his feet.
His face was deathly pale. Dark circles hung under bloodshot eyes. His gaze was empty. He radiated the numbness of someone whose soul had been squeezed dry, his steps so unsteady it looked like he might collapse at any moment.
His eyes swept across the piled supplies without any reaction. Mechanically, he lifted the tablet in his hand and began logging inventory.
He was a microcosm of Chaldea's remaining seventy-some employees—bearing humanity's last hope, draining every last ounce of themselves at the edge of despair.
"Tch." Aisen contacted the Fire Keeper again through the sub-group.
"Doctor Roman, we should probably add another batch. High-caffeine stimulant drinks, lots of coffee beans—preferably vitamins too. That guy's condition is worrying."
Roman watched his colleague, bitterness tightening his expression, and nodded.
"…Sorry to trouble you, Aisen. Thank you."
A few minutes later, another batch appeared in the warehouse's corner.
With the handover essentially done, Aisen and Roman left the warehouse and returned to Da Vinci's workshop.
They had barely stepped inside when the workshop door was kicked open with a bang, and an energetic figure stormed in like a whirlwind.
"Ah! Master! So thou art here! Truly, thou hast made it terribly difficult for me to find thee!"
A clear, loud female voice rang out—carrying a distinctive pride.
Everyone turned, and all of them paused.
It was Rome's emperor: Nero Claudius.
But her outfit… was highly distinctive. A red-and-white gymnast uniform, perfectly outlining her toned, athletic physique.
The simple design made her skin look even paler and more dazzling. Under the workshop lights, her long legs almost seemed to glow.
Mash stared, mouth open. "E-Emperor Nero?! W-What are you wearing…?"
"Heh-heh!" Nero let out a self-satisfied snort.
Hands on hips, chest out, chin lifted—she beamed with radiant vitality.
"I heard thou wert discussing grave matters here? Yet Chaldea is far too gloomy! The coordinates for the Third Singularity are still unfound—are we to sit idle and waste away until then?"
She swept an arm upward, pointing at the ceiling.
"Of course not! I have decided! We shall do something spectacular—something that will make the masses roar with joy! We shall invigorate the spirit and dispel this dreary air!"
"Something fun?!" Gudako's eyes lit up like fireworks.
She shot up from beside Olga Marie, her gaze blazing as it raked over Nero's body.
That vivid gymnast outfit. That unabashed enthusiasm.
As Rome's emperor, what could Nero's idea of "fun" possibly be?!
Gudako's mind flashed with all kinds of indecent fantasies.
"Could it be… could it be…?"
Her voice trembled with excitement. A suspicious flush crept onto her face as she stared at Nero with anticipation.
Nero met Master's expectant gaze and proudly straightened.
"Of course it is— a festival! A grand festival, worthy of Rome!"
She clenched a fist, eyes sparkling.
"When one speaks of Rome, how can one not think of the Olympics that make gods take notice and heroes' blood boil?! Competition! Strength! Speed! Glory! This is the ultimate beauty my heart yearns for!"
"…Hm? Master, what is wrong?" Nero asked, puzzled, looking at Gudako who had gone completely rigid.
"O-Olympics…? A sports meet…?" Gudako echoed faintly.
Her smile froze, then shattered into pieces. All that blazing passion was doused in an instant.
She trudged back to Olga Marie, wilted, and silently hugged the Director's leg, burying her face against it. Her voice came out muffled.
"Nothing… just watching my dream die."
Olga Marie looked down at the Master clinging to her leg, expression flat, eyes tinged with resigned helplessness.
Roman's mouth twitched as he tried to swallow his laughter.
He cleared his throat and analyzed the situation rationally.
"A sports meet is a nice idea, Your Majesty, but… given Chaldea's current state, the staff are already working themselves to the bone. If we hold a sports meet, the participants would have to be Servants. That would inevitably become high-intensity combat between heroic spirits. The effort required for venue repairs, accident prevention, and safety oversight would be enormous… it sounds extremely troublesome."
He felt it would pile more weight onto an already collapsing logistical line.
However, just as Roman was bracing for the headache, Da Vinci's voice cut in.
"Now, now, Romani—don't focus only on the difficulties."
Da Vinci set down her data board, smiling with elegant composure.
"I actually think the emperor's proposal is quite feasible."
"Huh?" Roman and everyone else—including Gudako with her face still buried in the Director's leg—looked at the "Omnipotent One" in surprise.
"Oh?" Nero lifted a brow, interest rising.
Da Vinci explained, "The key lies in the concept of the Olympics itself. It isn't merely a symbol of athletic competition—it's an ancient emblem of humanity's pursuit of extremes, of honor and celebration."
Her gaze shifted to Nero.
"And when we combine that with Nero's EX-rank Imperial Privilege—her ability to 'forcefully affirm' the legitimacy and feasibility of a thing…"
Nero raised her chin proudly. "Naturally! My authority is the embodiment of Rome's glory!"
"Precisely," Da Vinci said with a smile.
"I can design a special ritual. With Nero's Imperial Privilege as the core, we'll resonate with the historically real concept-entity of the Olympics and enact a magecraft reenactment on the conceptual level. During the event, the power, technique, and will displayed by participants—along with the audience's passion and cheers—those spiritual energies and scattered magical residues can be guided and converted through the ritual!"
"Converted into… magecraft materials?!" Roman latched onto the point instantly, eyes widening.
"Bingo!" Da Vinci snapped her fingers.
"In essence, we'll refine intangible spiritual energy and stray magical power through a ritual into tangible products—mana crystals, rare metals, even dragon fangs, phoenix feathers, and other practical resources! After all, the winners must be rewarded."
Roman stared, mouth slightly open.
"Using an awards ceremony to turn dissipated mana into magecraft materials as prizes… You really can do something that absurd? You truly are the Omnipotent One."
Inside, he screamed: So to you, a 'supply shortage' was never a problem at all, was it?!
"Wait! Prizes! I heard prizes?!" Gudako shot upright.
Her earlier gloom vanished without a trace—her eyes gleaming like a predator that caught the scent of blood.
"Da Vinci! Did you just say… prizes?!"
Her mood shift was so fast it left Mash blinking in confusion.
After hearing Da Vinci's details, Gudako's collector instinct ignited completely.
She snapped to attention and waved a hand grandly, brimming with momentum as if she hadn't been deflated seconds ago.
"Great! It's decided!"
She turned to Nero, fighting spirit roaring in her eyes.
"We're doing it! We have to do it! And we're going to make it huge—a festival so grand it's never been seen before!"
She could already see mountains of mana crystals and piles of materials.
"Objective: drain—no, maximize efficiency—convert as many magecraft materials as possible! For Chaldea's future reserves! Doctor Roman, venue and logistics protection are on you and Da Vinci! Mash, we're notifying all Servants! Anyone who can move—no, anyone who can't move, we'll bring them on a stretcher. They're participating!"
Roman went speechless again and could only rub his forehead.
Nero, meanwhile, was delighted. Fired up by Gudako's enthusiasm, she threw up a triumphant cheer.
"Oh! It burns brightly! Truly, thou art my Master! Such decisiveness and passion—this pleases me greatly!"
She bounced on the spot, her chest rising and falling beneath the gymnast uniform.
"I must not fall behind! I shall prepare a song for the opening ceremony! I will compose an Olympic hymn that will echo through Chaldea! Master, wait and be conquered by my singing!"
She spun around and started to rush out to practice.
"S-Singing?!" Gudako's face went deathly pale.
Cold sweat poured down her temple.
Even someone who could ignore any attack not originating from the Root couldn't endure Nero's singing.
"Wait! Your Majesty! Please stop!"
Gudako lunged and grabbed the emperor just as she was about to dash off.
"Hmm? Master, what is it?" Nero halted, turning back in confusion.
"Ahem—cough, cough." Gudako coughed violently, her mind racing for an excuse.
"I-I think, as Rome's august emperor, you absolutely don't need to do something as small as opening-ceremony singing! You should simply sit in the most honored viewing seat like the sun itself, illuminating all! Accepting the people's admiration—that's far more fitting for your station!"
"How could that be acceptable?!" Nero rejected the idea outright, then grabbed Gudako's hand instead. In her crimson eyes burned a fierce desire for competition.
"The opening ceremony is the soul of the festival! I shall sing to ignite the crowd—and I shall personally compete as well, as the champion of the previous Olympics, and accept all challengers! I will show you the emperor's strength and charm!"
"You can accept challengers! Just—please—no singing!" Gudako's voice was urgent, practically begging.
"Let Mozart do it! He'll be happy to—"
She tried desperately to divert the disaster.
"Master, thou art mistaken! My voice—"
"N-No, Your Majesty, please listen—"
They tugged and argued as they moved down the corridor, their voices fading into the distance—Gudako's frantic persuasion clashing with Nero's confident rebuttals.
The workshop fell quiet.
Olga Marie rubbed her leg where Gudako had clung a little too tightly, expression blank as she smoothed her skirt.
Roman exhaled long and slow, helpless. "I have a feeling… it's going to get very lively."
Da Vinci's plan was excellent, but the thought of organizing a sports meet for a horde of Servants made his stomach ache.
Mash gazed after Gudako and Nero, anticipation flickering in her eyes. Growing up in Chaldea, she'd never experienced a sports festival.
At that moment, Aisen calmly spoke up to take his leave.
"It seems Chaldea is about to get busy. Director, Doctor Roman, Lady Da Vinci, Miss Mash—I'll be going now. I still need to check on and confirm the other members' worlds."
Olga Marie snapped back to herself and nodded steadily. "Ah. Thank you for your efforts, Mr. Aisen."
Da Vinci smiled. "Thank you for the information you provided. I wish you a safe journey."
Mash offered a polite farewell. "Take care on the way, Mr. Aisen."
Roman waved. "Drop by again when you've got time."
"Until we meet again. And may your Olympic festival be a complete success."
With that, his figure vanished without a sound—leaving Mash's world behind.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 120)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 100)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League (Chapter 100)
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter89)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter86)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter63)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter75)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 53
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 57
From Junkman to Wasteland 35
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