Interlude ~ Protest.
A normal day at Chaldea.
"Are you kidding me! What kind of food is this?!"
Deadpool, who had been as hungry as a wolf since morning, rushed to the dining hall and was the first to get his breakfast. However, the menu today was strikingly different from the usual.
Usually, breakfast consisted of toast with bacon and eggs, and drinks like coffee or milk, depending on the Servant's taste. But today, fried mackerel, miso soup, a bowl of rice, and kimchi were sparsely placed on the table. Modest is an understatement.
"Hey, Grandma! What are you doing?! Why has the quality of the grub dropped from Blu-ray to a glitchy videotape?"
As soon as Deadpool peeked into the kitchen, a medical hammer flew out and hit him squarely in the forehead with a dull thud.
"Ah... Right. Damn, I forgot about this fury."
Wincing with annoyance, Deadpool ripped the hammer out of his head and threw it on the floor. Nightingale appeared in the doorway: in a sterile gown, gloves, and mask.
"Not only did you sit at the table without washing your hands, but you also went into the kitchen in such an unsanitary state. This requires amputation. If you don't want to lose your limbs, shut up and eat your breakfast."
Deadpool, accustomed to her sharp remarks, tolerated the constant threats of dismemberment for a while, but this time he was on the verge of exploding.
"If you don't like something – get out. I'll personally throw you out of Chaldea. And believe me, no one will stop me."
Nightingale didn't even blink. Her counter-threat made Deadpool involuntarily recall the times when he was an "ice statue" and he hurried to quell his anger.
"Listen everyone: Masters, staff, and Servants!" Her voice echoed through the hall. "As long as I'm here, I will not tolerate pickiness in food. From now on, the diet will be healthy and balanced three times a day. You are free to starve or snack, but if I catch anyone consuming unhealthy food or using environmentally dirty products – you're on your own. Immediate amputation will be performed. Enjoy your meal."
Nightingale's thunderous announcement caused a wave of murmurs and disgruntled exclamations among the staff and Servants. But as soon as she meaningfully played with a bone saw and a pepper revolver, a deathly silence fell in the dining hall.
"Lucky Grandma... No one dares to tell him what to do," Deadpool muttered enviously.
However, contrary to his expectations, the situation in the kitchen itself was much more tense.
"Here's today's menu. I'll come to check the nutritional value, so cook strictly according to the recipe. After lunch – a sanitary inspection. Not a speck of dust. And also: I received a report that some Servants have raided the food storage. Now the warehouse is your responsibility. Watch it. If the theft happens again – amputation. Do you understand?"
Emiya, wearing a chef's hat that didn't suit him at all, stood with a vacant look as Nightingale showered him with instructions, consulting a tablet. Rider Boudica, acting as sous-chef, tried to help him, but pleasing the picky head nurse was an almost impossible task.
"Oh... I wish I had stayed a Counter Guardian..."
Since Nightingale had promised that if he tried to "retire," she would pull him straight from the Throne of Heroes, Emiya had no choice but to resign himself to scrubbing the kitchen until lunch.
Her fanatical zeal was not limited to the dining hall alone.
"Deadline... Deadline!"
Andersen, as usual, locked himself in his room, working on a new plot. Feeling a decline in strength, he reached for his special restorative agent.
"Manufacturing, storing, and consuming uncertified drugs, and in such doses. You are exhausted. Deadlines are important, but mental and physical peace are more important."
"Waa-ah! You scared me!"
In the darkness of the study, Nightingale's pale face suddenly appeared. Startled by the nurse's creepy appearance, Andersen simply lost consciousness.
"Hmm... Hmm-m..."
Hassan of the Cursed Arm sat in the lounge and leafed through a magazine. The reading was boring, but the process of reading calmed him.
"You have a spinal curvature. I will correct it. Poor posture is the root of all illnesses!"
Nightingale appeared out of nowhere, grabbed Hassan by the limbs, tossed him into the air, and pulled his spine with all her might.
"Stop! Wait... I... My back has been like this since birth, it's... Don't! Aaaah!!"
After a masterfully executed "Special Romero," Hassan of the Cursed Arm, with a dislocated back, was sent straight to the infirmary.
"Is there anyone here?"
Nobunaga crept cautiously down the empty corridor, clutching something carefully wrapped in her cloak. Reaching her bedroom, she exhaled with relief.
"Phew. Looks like I got away with it."
She carefully unwrapped the cloak and brought out the sweet pudding she had just bought at the store.
"Ha-ha-ha! Let this nurse, or whatever her name is, Nightingale, rage all she wants – she's no match for the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven! I, the Demon King, do what I want, when I want! Who can stop the hero of the era?!"
"I can."
While Nobunaga reveled in her triumph and laughed loudly, Nightingale, as if by irony of fate, broke through the ceiling and jumped down right in front of her.
"I-i-i-eek!!"
Shocked Nobunaga collapsed on the floor in terror. Nightingale's face was darker than a storm cloud.
"Is that so? I just made a list of Servants abusing sugar, and you immediately bought pudding. I hope you haven't eaten it yet?"
Under her heavy gaze, Nobunaga, breaking out in a cold sweat, just nodded frequently.
"Did you want sweets so badly?"
Nobunaga wanted to blurt out "No!", but decided that honesty would be safer now and managed a short: "Yes!"
"Hmm. Good. This time I'll forgive you. As an apology, I'll buy you a new pudding myself."
Amazed by the sudden kindness, Nobunaga followed the nurse with a timid smile.
"Oh..."
"This is a special broccoli pudding that I ordered Mr. Emiya to prepare specifically for Servants suffering from excess sugar. Enjoy your meal. I will stand here until you finish it all."
It was difficult to call this "pudding" – there was just a single head of broccoli on the plate. The absurdity of the situation overflowed Nobunaga's patience. In a rage, she snatched a musket and aimed it at the nurse.
"Don't joke with me, head nurse! How dare you defy the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven?! What insolence! Today I will kill you and burn my ambitions in..."
"Am-pu-tation!"
A lightning-fast swing of the scalpel cut the musket in half and left a scratch on Nobunaga's cheek. As soon as blood appeared, Nightingale immediately collected a sample for glucose analysis.
"Hmm... Sugar is indeed elevated. Eat immediately. From now on, your diet will consist only of green vegetables."
The words sounded polite, but Nightingale's gaze promised a swift retribution. Overwhelmed by this bloodlust, Nobunaga, swallowing tears, began to chew the broccoli.
"She's completely out of control! Arrived at Chaldea last, the youngest in the summon, and acts like she owns the place!"
Deadpool, having gathered a group of Servants around the "Temporary Headquarters of the Alliance Against Nightingale" poster, decided to speak.
"Exactly!" Kiyohime chimed in. "I was preparing a special dish for my dear husband, and she fined me for violating sanitary norms! You see, I wasn't wearing a chef's hat! It's for my husband, I won't forgive this!"
"I didn't do anything at all," Avicebron sobbed, from whom more composure was expected. "She just kidnapped me, claiming she needed to check my skin for infections... oh..."
"Andersen is unconscious, Juvan has a broken back – both are in the infirmary. Nobbu is being tortured with broccoli..." Deadpool listed the Servants' misfortunes, trying to cheer up his listeners. "Until when will we tolerate such treatment?!"
He pointed his finger at Caster, Medea, whose appearance was hidden by a deep hood.
"Hey, auntie! Tell them! You can't even brew a potion because of this girl."
"I'm not an auntie!" Medea retorted, throwing off her hood. "But... you're right. This nurse's interference is going too far. How dare she break into my workshop and seal it on charges of illegal drug production?!"
"Hey, Swallow," Deadpool addressed Kojirou, who was peacefully meditating in the corner. "Do you have anything to add?"
"I have no reason to complain," the Assassin replied calmly. "A ronin is like flowing water. Besides, I haven't done anything wrong."
"Throw out this saint," Deadpool commanded, and Kojirou was immediately shown the door.
"Listen everyone! We can't just sit and tolerate this! This is Chaldea! We are Servants who have made a contract with the Master to save humanity! Can't we handle one five-star Berserker?! There are more of us! Victory will be ours!"
"Right!"
Deadpool's words found a lively response.
"Exactly! Can one five-star stand against a dozen Servants? Together we are invincible!"
"O-o-o!"
The degree of indignation grew. Usually, Servants, with their difficult personalities, prefer to keep to themselves, but today the common misfortune in the form of Nightingale united them.
"Target – the dining hall! It's dinner time now, she's probably there. Let's show her our rights! Long live the revolution! Long live the revolution!"
"Hooray-a-a-a!"
Led by Deadpool, a crowd of Servants moved to storm the dining hall.
"Guys... this is all great, but why are you having a rally in my room?" Ritsuka, the rightful owner of the premises, looked up from his manga and looked with bewilderment at the empty doorway through which the noisy crowd had just disappeared.
"Down with sanitation! Freedom for Servants!" they chanted, marching through the corridors under the banner of the "Alliance Against Nightingale."
"We will overthrow tyranny! We want freedom! Give us meat instead of grass!"
"And sweets!" Marie Antoinette shouted, waving an empty cookie bag.
Finally, they stopped in front of the dining hall doors. Deadpool and the others were seething with rage, ready to literally tear Nightingale apart.
"Forward!"
With a war cry, confident of victory, they burst inside.
However...
"Ah, I see. I heard. It seems my humble actions have caused dissatisfaction among many Servants," Nightingale stood in the middle of the hall in a perfectly clean uniform.
Only her face portended nothing good.
"The instigator, then, is Mr. Deadpool. I put so much effort into improving your health, and seeing your success was my greatest reward... but you decided to trample on my hopes. You repay good with evil..."
A murderous intent flashed in her eyes.
This was not ordinary anger. Her gaze read: "Dare to disobey – and you're dead" or "One more word against me, and I'll turn you into a lobotomite."
"So. Who has any complaints... Step. Forward."
She enunciated each word. Deadpool, still blustering, pointed his finger at her.
"Ha! Do you think you can handle all of us alone?! We are the majority! And according to the laws of democracy and collective beatings, the majority is always right! One against seventeen? That's all fairy tales! The one who..."
Wanting to point to his strong support, Deadpool turned around and found no one behind him.
"..."
His companions, sensing Nightingale's aura, which surpassed any "Evil of Humanity" in power, had long since retreated and were now only timidly peeking from behind the doorjamb.
"Sorry, Pool..." Kiyohime, as a representative of the deserters, gave a guilty smile. "But if you think about it, the head nurse's words sound very reasonable."
"Ah, you damn traitors!"
"You, Mr. Agitator, require not physical or mental, but ideological treatment," Nightingale was already standing close to him. Her scalpel gleamed in her hand as usual.
"No... ah... don't... no-o-o-o-o-o-o!"
With a precise movement, Nightingale severed his Achilles tendons, cutting off his escape route, and then knocked him out with a medical hammer. Leaving traces of desperately scratching claws on the floor, she silently dragged the screaming Deadpool towards the infirmary.
That night, Da Vinci-chan slept surprisingly soundly and peacefully.