Chapter 2

A man wearing a sharp business suit made his way through corridors made of sleek metal. His lacquered shoes clacked on the floor with each step as he proceeded towards his destination.

Once he stood in front of the door, he placed his hand upon a display next to it, and a sound of confirmation was heard before the door slid open sideway, allowing him access.

The room beyond was bathed in a gentle light, and in the middle of it, behind a glass desk sat a white haired woman, typing away at her computer.

"What is it?" she asked without looking away from her screen.

"Pardon the interruption, Sahashi-san," the clerk said as he approached. "There's been a situation at the airport earlier today."

Her hand stopped and she turned to look at the man.

"What kind of situation? Did one of the Feathers try to leave the country?"

"No, ma'am. It was a type C anomaly. Here, see for yourself."

He handed over his tablet after tapping on it a few times. She took it and examined it thoroughly, eyes widening progressively.

"Is this accurate?" she eventually asked. "A hundred percent accurate?"

"We're positive. We went over the data four times. Everything checks out."

"Incredible… after all this time," she sighed. "What did you do with him?"

"We let him through, of course. There wasn't any ground to detain him any longer."

"Have him tracked discreetly," she instructed. "It's too much of a coincidence for him to be an infiltrator from a competitor or a foreign government, but it's also too much of a coincidence to dismiss it out of hand."

"I already have all of the phone numbers under his name being monitored by our security team and we are trying to figure if he's got more under other aliases. If he takes one step out of the line, we'll know."

"Good job. And good call taking this to my attention first. Do not inform anyone else and keep me posted if something of interest happens. In any case, don't let the CEO know."

"Please excuse me for being forward ma'am, but why would you keep this from the president?" he asked.

"Because, that man can't damn well leave alone something that he finds interesting, and the last thing we want is our president running amok at this crucial time."

"Understood ma'am. I'll see to it," he agreed with a bow, then he turned around and left.

"Forward all the relevant information about this person to my terminal," she said as she turned back to her computer.

The clerk acknowledged her order and left her to her work once more. Once he was out, the woman stopped typing and instead brought up a photograph on her screen. On it, a younger version of herself and two men stood next to each other.

She looked at it for a long moment, then she closed it and returned to her work.

Shirou woke up sprawled on the couch, where he had fallen asleep the previous night. His back hurt from staying in an awkward position all night long, but since staying as he was wouldn't do, he just disregarded the protest of his body and stood up, stretching himself to get rid of the stiffness in his muscles.

His stomach rumbled and reminded him that he hadn't eaten anything since the previous day. He didn't have to look around to know he wouldn't find anything to eat inside his current living place. There was hardly any furniture to begin with, much less any food.

Since things were that way, there was little use hanging around the place. He might as well get started on his day. Grabbing his wallet and his last pack of cigarettes he stepped out of his "apartment" still wearing the clothes from the previous day.

The industrial area was far removed from the city proper and without a vehicle of his own it would take him quite a while to get anywhere on foot. He needed to find a mean of transportation for himself, but in the meantime he would take this excuse as a reason to map what would become his turf.

He needed to know the lay of the land if he wanted to make this area his place of operations. He also needed to find the right places where to put the anchors for his Boundary Fields. There should be little need of them, since Shin Teito wasn't exactly a city where Magi would dwell, but if there was a lesson he had learned in life it was that it paid to be prepared.

As he proceeded on the sidewalk, he scrutinized the nearby buildings. Although it was just a little past dawn, the place was already teeming with life, as workers of all stripes moved about doing their jobs.

It took him a good half an hour to get to the nearest bus stop, but he was fortunate enough that there was one coming by as soon as he got there.

Once he climbed in, the driver looked at him oddly but said nothing once he paid the fare. The other passengers did shy away from him as he went to take a seat. He realized why as soon as he caught a reflection of himself in the windows. His gray hair were a mess, and so were his clothes. The bag under his eyes and the stubble on his face didn't really paint a good picture. He also hadn't showered in a couple of days at least, so he probably didn't smell like roses either.

Oh, well. He would see to it some other time. Right now he lacked all the basic necessities. There was no use worrying about his appearance.

An hour later, during which the other passengers did their best to pretend he didn't exist, Shirou dropped down at his destination, one of the business districts of the city. This place had more or less everything that Shirou could need in the short term.

His first stop was of course the convenience store. He bought himself a couple of the cheapest sandwiches and could find and half a dozen cups of instant ramen for later use and a few more packs of cigarettes.

Once outside the shop he immediately tore open his sandwiches and ate through them in a few bites before cleaning his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. The morning was spent going from place to place, mostly to buy the tools he needed for his daytime job.

As he walked around the city, he couldn't help but notice something out of place. He had noticed it already when he first arrived, but the city felt wrong to him. It wasn't like he had grown in the countryside, but the city felt nonetheless alien to his senses.

There were shifting currents of which he couldn't make heads or tails. Normally, when the atmosphere was perturbed to such a degree it meant that some powerful entity was nearby, but for an effect like that to take place it would require several dozen of such entities to be close by.

That was of course preposterous. All notably powerful beings didn't really coexist well with each other, seeing a potential threat in everybody else. Furthermore they would not dwell in a place like Shin Teito, where the presence of humans was too dense and the spread of technology made keeping their existence secret an impossible endeavor.

Life was becoming increasingly difficult for those who dabbled in the supernatural. Now that anyone had a camera on their person 24/7 and the ability to disseminate whatever they captured with them across the world in mere moments, keeping the Moonlit World a secret was becoming more and more difficult

Even Dead Apostles had been forced to change their methods. Gone were the days in which they could pick an isolated town and progressively feed on its population to the last person. These days their tactic was to blend in with the population and feed without killing or turning their prey as much as possible. That meant that the number of victims had dropped sharply, but it also made hunting for them a more daunting task.

Shirou didn't mind the trade off. His preference would always be for the outcome with the least amount of victims. Of course, his higher-ups at the Clock Tower wouldn't see it that way. The safety of the people was never high on their list of priorities, as it was only a necessary byproduct of keeping the supernatural a secret.

With their difference in views, it was hardly surprising that they would love for nothing more than to send him as far away as possible from their institution. To them, he was an eyesore at best. The feeling was mutual, so Shirou didn't really care much.

However, because he knew all this he couldn't begin to figure what was the cause for this strange atmosphere. Perhaps later he would try to track the source or sources of this mystery.

He never expected that the answer would come looking for him on its own.

A couple of days went by, during which Shirou did nothing other than getting settled in. He didn't have much in the way of funds left since he spent almost everything he had to buy the warehouse he used as living place. He spent what little he had left to buy the tools he would need to work and for an old beaten-up van that he would use to move around.

The thing had seen better days and Shirou was relatively sure he would be spending a lot of time fixing whatever was broken but he was confident in his skill, so that didn't worry him much. What would have been a liability to someone else was an opportunity to him.

The car dealer had been more than happy to see the old piece of junk finally being taken off his hands and was probably laughing behind Shirou's back for his misbegotten acquisition.

The joke was on him though. With a bit of time Shirou could make the van work like it was brand new. He wouldn't bother with fixing the body, but he would make the mechanics run like clockwork soon enough.

Most importantly he bought himself a futon, clothes and all the necessary for basic hygiene. Although he didn't care much about looking like a bum, he still needed to project a certain image if he wanted to find clients.

In the meantime, however, he would have to find employment somewhere else. One doesn't start a business out of nowhere without either connections or resources. Preferably both.

So, he decided to find employment as construction worker for the time being.

The morning was bright, and the air was pleasantly chilly when Shirou showed up at the building site. The other workers had already started gathering so Shirou asked around for the foreman and was quickly pointed towards a man in his sixties.

"You must be Emiya Shirou-kun, are you not?" the foreman asked once Shirou approached.

"Yes sir," he confirmed.

"We don't usually get many new faces other than students trying to make a living while trying for university, but you are a bit too old to be an university student, aren't you? Do you already have experience in construction work?"

"I have a lot of experience abroad. They do things a bit differently from here, but I know my way around the tools of the trade."

"Eh! You seem like a smart guy, so even if you didn't know which end of a hammer is which I'm sure you could learn the ropes of this job fast enough as long as you put yourself to it."

"Just point me where you need me and I'll get the job done."

"That's the spirit. Alright, I'll get you introduced to the regular crew. Come on."

He was quickly introduced to everyone, and he was more or less welcomed with open arms. When it comes to physical labor, it's easier to get along with everyone as long as one pulls his own weight and does his own share.

Halfway through his shift, no one had anything to complain about Shirou's work ethic or the quality of his job. The foreman came to supervise him a couple of time and found no fault or flaw.

"Hmm…. You weren't kidding when you said you have experience, Emiya," the foreman said during lunch break. "Where did you learn?"

"Ah, I did some maintenance job on my old family house when I was a kid. It was a traditional Japanese building so it was mostly woodwork but it did get me started. Later, I travelled the world quite a bit and construction work is always a good way to get by."

"You never went to college?" he asked.

"No, I left for Europe as soon as I was done with highschool."

"Europe? Whatever for?"

"Let's just say that I had a passion for their history and… well, at the time I was into this girl who came from there so…"

"Ah! Say no more. Still, you seem like a bright enough fellow. Surely you could have gotten into a school somewhere."

Shirou shrugged. "I really enjoy fixing things. I've always been a very hands-on kind of person. They used to call me Fake Janitor back in school because I kept most of the equipment running on my spare time."

"So, how did you end up working here?" another worker asked.

"I travelled the world long enough and I decided to come back. I didn't have much money to begin with and travelling is expensive," he explained. "I'm going to save some money and make myself a small reputation before starting to work on my own."

"What can you do?"

"I'm a fair hand at plumbing and wiring. I even got a couple of certifications abroad, but I need to have them confirmed here in Japan. It's going to take a while."

"Ah, if you are as good at those as you are at this job you'll have no shortage of work. It's hard to find someone reliable these days. Everyone has either left the city, or they work directly for MBI."

"And that's not a good thing?" Shirou asked.

"Are you kidding? They own half this city already. These days if you need permission to get something done, you need to ask them."

"Surely they can't be that bad." Shirou protested.

"Yeah, maybe it doesn't feel like that at first, but it's happened several times that we've got permission to start working on a site and a few days later everything gets stopped and the permissions are revoked. Then a few weeks later you find out that MBI had bought the area for themselves."

"Whatever you do, don't step on MBI's toes," one worker quoted. "That's the rule around these parts."

"I'll keep that in mind." Shirou agreed.

This was the second event that warned him off about MBI. Shirou's had every intention to steer clear of the financial colossus and its many eyes. The last thing he needed was arousing the attention of another international group. There were already far too many in his life as it is.

They were almost done with lunch break when Shirou heard the foreman shout at someone.

"Oi, Seo! Is this the time to show up, you damn lazy bum?"

"Sorry chief. I got caught up in something and I couldn't make it any sooner."

Seo was a lean-looking man in his mid twenties, with unruly black hair, who wore jeans and a white undershirt. He looked like a confident type of guy, as it showed from him not caring about being more than half a day late for work.

Shirou noted his appearance and felt like there was something strange about him, though he couldn't tell what. He paid the newcomer no further attention and followed the colleagues he was assigned to back to their workplace. The day wasn't getting any longer after all.

The first thing that Shirou did that night after returning home was to take a shower and fix himself a cup of instant ramen. Currently he only owned a single electric plate, so that was the limit of what he could make for himself.

He was in no hurry to buy himself a proper kitchen. He didn't have the money for it nor the time to cook a complex meal. The city had an area of over six thousand square kilometers and was inhabited by several millions people. Searching for one specific person in that area was like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

Therefore cooking wasn't very high on his list of priorities, and it hadn't been for many years now.

With his hair still damp from the shower, he descended the stairs from his abode to the rest of the warehouse barefooted, wearing only his boxers and a white undershirt all the while he loudly slurped his steaming noodles.

He surveyed his space, pondering how to use it best. This place had to become both his Workshop and his workplace, but the two things couldn't mix for obvious reasons.

Back in Fuyuki, he used his tool shed as Workshop because it was isolated from the rest of the house. It would be best to replicate a similar environment. Perhaps he could get an empty shipping container down at the docks. They were basically boxes of metal that could be put on wheels and hauled around at a moment's notice.

Having a mobile Workshop was something he had been contemplating for years. It was also something that an ordinary Magus would break down laughing if he heard about it.

A Workshop wasn't just a place where Magi could practice their craft in peace, but also a connection to their roots. For a family of Magi, their territory was almost as important as the continuity of their bloodlines.

With each passing generation, their connection to the land deepened and they would receive all sorts of benefits in their practice of Magecraft. The opposite held true as well. If a line of Magi was rejected by the land, they would soon whiter into nothingness.

The Makiri were a good example of that, and in the span of a few generations they lost all ability for Magecraft. Even so, the thought of moving for greener pastures never crossed their minds, though it was noted that they had even more reasons to stay in Fuyuki. A big enough reason to risk the extinction of their entire bloodline.

In any event, it just meant that moving around wasn't something Magi did for extended periods of time unless they were forced to, and even when they did they would return as soon as their business was done.

Shirou had no such compunctions. He certainly would never father an heir to whom he would pass down his Magecraft, therefore he had no reason to build up a connection to the land. Conversely, he relocated so often that the concept of a mobile Workshop warranted at least some thought. It would be convenient if he could have his stuff shipped to wherever he would go next, rather than setting up everything from scratch time and time again.

Still, that was a few months away to say the least. He didn't have enough cash at hand to sink in that project for the time being. He also needed to start setting up a network of contacts with the local Yakuza families and other criminal groups, because he would eventually need access to rumors and confidential information that didn't make it to the news networks, either because they didn't find it interesting enough, or because it was kept away from them.

In short, he had a lot of separate tasks to see through, each more complex and delicate than the next.

In the meantime, he could at least start putting up some basic Bounded Fields, just enough to warn him if someone tried to get inside his property.

At this stage of his operation it was unlikely that anyone would be trying to break inside his place, but one doesn't get to live long in the Moonlit World without a healthy grain of paranoia. Shirou had paid a heavy price to learn that lesson and he would be damned if he let it go to waste.

Setting up the Bounded Field took him all night and he finished just in time to get ready for work. Fortunately he was used to function with little to no sleep for extended periods of time so his efficiency would not be affected.

He still had to eat though, so he prepared himself another cup of instant ramen before jumping on his battered van and leaving for work.

As he drove towards the city proper he popped a cigarette in his mouth and he smoked it with the rattling of the engine as a background to his thoughts.

The city skyline changed as he traveled. The low profile of the industrial concrete prefabs left space to the soaring skyscrapers of metal and glass.

At the very heart of them stood MBI's headquarters, the tallest building in the country. An European-looking clock tower.

There was an exquisite sort of irony in that symbolism. Two clock towers standing on opposite sides of the world, representing two opposite concepts as well. The preservation of the past and the pursuit of the future.

Shirou wondered just how many dirty secrets could be buried under MBI's Tower. Surely not as many as those rotting beneath its counterpart in London, though the latter had a head start of several centuries, so it wasn't a fair comparison at all.

He wondered sometimes, as surely did several others, how could a single company have conquered so many segments of the market in just a couple of decades and nearly without competition.

The general consensus was that it was all thanks to its founder, one man named Minaka Hiroto, a precocious genius and one of the brightest mind in the entire world.

It was humbling to know that a single person had accomplished so much. The advancement in biotechnology he brought to the world had saved thousands of human lives and improved that of millions of if not billions of them.

For that reason alone, in Shirou's opinion, the man had more than earned his wealth.

Of course, he wasn't naive enough to believe even for a second that MBI had gotten as far as it did without causing bloodshed.

'Don't step on MBI's toes' was a rule known even to random construction workers.

Still, he had come to accept that a few crimes were worth the benefits humanity as a whole received in exchange. Rather, they were inevitable, no matter how they wished they weren't.

After all, he too was exactly like that, except that he was broke as heck.

"Maybe I could ask if they hold classes or something," he grumbled, twisting the cigarette between his lips.

Shirou didn't care about money, but he acknowledged it was necessary to make things happen. For instance, if he had even just a fraction of MBI's wealth he could probably hire enough people to find his target wherever it was hiding in a matter of weeks, rather than the months he hoped it would take him.

But that was wishful thinking. He wasn't Minaka Hiroto, successful and wealthy CEO of MBI. He was Emiya Shirou, a man whose hands would never hold anything.

Comparing himself to the magnate was an exercise of futility. Though it did kill some time while he was stuck in the early morning traffic on his way to work.

Eventually he managed to get to the building site in time for his shift. Honestly, he was really looking forward to a few weeks of hard and stable work that would keep his hands buys and his mind clear of dark thoughts.

Of course, what Shirou Emiya hoped for and what Emiya Shirou actually got were all too often extremely different things

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