Chapter 1: Fem's Casa Part 1.
The chill of the night air barely registered as Shirou stood on the edge of a crumbling rooftop, his senses heightened, body tense. The city sprawled beneath him, its streets slick with recent rain, darkened alleyways crisscrossing like veins in the heart of a living beast. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, scanned the area below for any sign of movement. He was waiting, always waiting for the next moment—when silence would be broken by the cry of battle, or worse, something more sinister.
The vampire nest he had just cleared out lay in scattered ruins behind him, its former inhabitants nothing more than ash and bloodstains now. His work was done, but experience told him that in this world—this parallel world—there was always more beneath the surface.
Shirou Emiya wasn't a man who took chances anymore. The idealistic boy who once dreamed of becoming an Ally of Justice had been replaced by someone far colder, far more calculating, even more so ever since he's been sent to this Parallel world. He operated with precision, as if every mission was another line in a long, bitter story that had yet to reach its end. Here, in a world filled with devils, fallen angels, and supernatural creatures, he was an anomaly—a human who stood outside their intricate web of politics and power. A hired hand, a mercenary, a killer when the situation demanded it.
And it demanded it more often than not.
Ever since Zelretch had sent him to this parallel world with the task of killing the five people that he deemed dangerous for the survival of this world, Shirou had dedicated himself to his sole mission like a machine.
After learning what he needs to know about this world, Shirou had started his manhunt toward the five people that he needs to kill. He works as a Freelance Mercenary to build connections and collect informations from his clients or anyone else that have a deep knowledge about the magical and supernatural world. Any means that can get him closer to his targets
Shirou's thoughts were distant as he descended silently from the roof, slipping into the shadows below. He moved with purpose, every step practiced, every motion deliberate. The alley was quiet now, save for the faint crackle of embers where the last vampire had been turned to ash. His twin married swords were still warm from the fight and still soaked in his victims blood. Shirou then dismissed them back onto the ether without care.
Earlier this evening he received a job from a client who wants him to eliminate a vampire coven that had been preying on the city's outskirts. The client told him that these vampires were Jester Karture's underlings. Upon hearing this, Shirou immediately accepted the Job and head towards the location.
The vampires had been clumsy and reckless. He'd taken them down quickly, too quickly. A faint frown crossed his face as he knelt beside one of the scorched remains. Something didn't sit right.
His hand brushed away the loose dirt and debris, revealing something glinting faintly in the light of the flickering streetlamp. It was a small pendant, half-covered in ash but unmistakably engraved with strange, arcane symbols. Shirou's eyes narrowed, his mind immediately switching to focus as he cast his Structural Grasping Magecraft onto the pendant.
It had been months since he'd been actively used the spell with such frequency, but here, in a world teeming with magical items and artifacts, Shirou had relied on it more than ever. He placed the pendant in the palm of his hand and closed his eyes, allowing the familiar pulse of his magical energy to flow through him.
The world faded for a moment, and then, piece by piece, the structure of the pendant unfolded in his mind. He could see its construction, its core components, the subtle intricacies that made up its form. Metal—silver, laced with traces of magic that hadn't come from any ordinary source. A binding enchantment. It was old magic, woven carefully and with purpose, but far from simple.
As his mind probed deeper, Shirou's brow furrowed in concentration. The magical signature wasn't something he recognized outright, but there was something else—something more ominous, hiding beneath the surface. The enchantment wasn't just for decoration; it was a key. A magical lock designed to open specific paths, likely tied to the underground networks of the vampire world.
And then, in the core of the pendant, there it was—something unmistakable. A name.
Van Fem.
The name hit him like a cold splash of water. His eyes snapped open, and he stared down at the pendant, now understanding its significance. He had heard that name before—Van Fem. In his world, he's known as a Dead Apostle who rules the Underworld with his hands in nearly every dark dealing, from magical artifact trade to the trafficking of cursed items, and even Casino business. In this world, he was a figure of immense influence, known for his cold, calculated business ventures, and his power was rumored to stretch far beyond mere wealth. If this pendant was tied to him, then Shirou had just stumbled onto something much larger than a low-level vampire nest.
He stood up slowly, tucking the pendant into his jacket. His expression remained unreadable, though beneath the surface, the familiar calculation began. If Van Fem was involved, this was no coincidence. The vampire lord dealt in items of extraordinary power, and whatever his interests were, they likely intersected with Jester Karture—one of the target in his list Shirou was hunting.
Shirou felt a strange sense of inevitability settle over him. Van Fem was not a target, but if Jester was involved in the dealings of the vampire underworld, then this lead could take him closer to the first of his prey. It was a bitter reminder that even in this world, the connections between beings of power ran deep.
His thoughts drifted back to the job at hand. The mission he had been given was completed, but this pendant meant there was more work to be done. He still needed to verify the significance of the object, to determine whether it was a direct link to Van Fem or simply a fragment of something larger. For now, he would proceed cautiously.
Shirou began moving through the alley again, his steps silent, disappearing into the dimly lit streets of the city. The safe house wasn't far—just a few blocks away—but he moved carefully, his instincts sharpened. This world, for all its chaos, had a strange order to it, a rhythm that Shirou had learned to read in his time here. The streets, the darkened buildings, even the faint flicker of distant lights, all spoke of something happening beneath the surface.
By the time he reached the apartment, his thoughts were already formulating a plan. The safe house was unassuming, one of many temporary hideouts he kept scattered throughout the city. He stepped inside and immediately began his routine, securing the entrances, checking for any disturbances. All clear.
He pulled the pendant from his jacket again, setting it on the small, rickety table in the corner of the room. The flickering light above cast strange shadows across the object, but Shirou's focus remained unbroken. He sat down, placing both hands on the pendant as he began a second, deeper scan with Structural Grasping.
This time, the spell unraveled more carefully, his mind probing for any hidden layers. He saw the threads of magic woven through it, binding it to specific locations and people. He followed the faint lines, seeing glimpses of a larger network, connecting to hidden vaults, underground markets, places where Van Fem's influence stretched.
There was no doubt now. This pendant wasn't just a random trinket; it was a key to something valuable, something Van Fem was likely interested in. The vampire lord's reach extended into every corner of the supernatural world, and this was proof of it.
Shirou leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. If he wanted to track Jester Karture, Van Fem might be his best lead. But it also meant stepping into a world of shadows, where power and secrets ran deeper than any single mercenary's influence. Shirou wasn't one to shy away from danger, but he knew the risks.
Van Fem wouldn't be easy to approach, let alone manipulate.
Still, this was his mission. His punishment. The price he had to pay for what he had done back in his world, even though he didn't regret it.
Miyu's face flashed in his mind for a brief second, and then it was gone. Shirou stood up, pocketing the pendant once more. Tomorrow, he would begin his search in earnest. The underworld of this city was vast, but he had dealt with worse before.
He just had to take the first step.
With that Shirou change his clothings to something more casual before he starts doing his evening's routine which involves him practicing his Magecraft for a couple of hours before he went to sleep.
Tomorrow is going to be a rather busy day for him. So, he needs to be in his tip top condition.
But before that...
'Right... I need to make a phone call first.'
Shirou quickly gets up from his bed and reach for his phone.
The soft clink of coins sliding across a table echoed in the dimly lit room. Shadows flickered against the cracked walls, the single overhead light casting an uneven glow on the scene unfolding at one of the small, grimy tables. Shirou Emiya sat with his back to the wall, eyes alert as he watched the exchange across from him.
This bar, tucked away in the depths of the city, was known to few. It catered to a different kind of clientele—those who operated in the shadows, who traded in secrets as much as they did in goods. Here, you didn't ask too many questions. You didn't draw attention to yourself. And you certainly didn't make friends.
Shirou had learned quickly how to move through places like this. He wasn't one of them, not exactly, but he could blend in when needed. Being a freelance mercenary had its advantages—no one expected loyalty, no one questioned your motives. You were simply another cog in the machine, serving whoever could pay the highest price.
Tonight, Shirou wasn't here to be paid, though. He was here for information.
The contact he was waiting for had yet to arrive, but that didn't bother him. Patience was a skill he had cultivated over the years, a necessity in the kind of work he did. Besides, places like this had their own rhythm, their own sense of time. You didn't rush things.
His gaze drifted over the other patrons—half a dozen figures seated at different tables, each one absorbed in their own business. A few whispered conversations, a silent exchange of packages, a glimmer of magic as something was passed hand to hand. It was all routine, all part of the underworld's quiet hum.
Shirou adjusted his position slightly, feeling the familiar weight of the pendant inside his jacket. It had been nearly two days since he'd recovered it from the vampire nest, and the more he thought about it, the clearer it became that this was no ordinary trinket. His investigation had led him deeper into the vampire underworld, into places where the name Van Fem held real weight. It hadn't been easy, but after a few well-placed inquiries and a few more favors cashed in, he had tracked down someone who could provide him with the next step.
The door to the bar creaked open, and a figure slipped inside, cloaked in shadows. Shirou's eyes flicked toward the newcomer, his senses sharpening. This had to be the contact. The man—if you could call him that—moved with a predator's grace, eyes scanning the room with cold calculation before they settled on Shirou. Without a word, the figure crossed the room and slid into the seat across from him.
Shirou didn't speak at first, letting the silence stretch between them. He took in the figure before him—a vampire, that much was clear, though he lacked the arrogance and extravagance that many of the older vampires flaunted. This one was a survivor, someone who had learned to navigate the precarious balance between power and obscurity. His sharp, angular features were partially hidden under a hood, but Shirou caught a glimpse of pale skin and gleaming eyes that hinted at his true nature.
"Mercenary, huh?" The vampire's voice was low, almost a hiss, as he leaned back in his chair, observing Shirou with thinly veiled curiosity. "You're a long way from home. What's someone like you doing poking around in places you don't belong?"
Shirou didn't rise to the bait. He had dealt with enough vampires to know that they thrived on games, on subtle manipulations and verbal traps. Instead, he met the vampire's gaze evenly, his tone calm and measured. "I'm looking for information. I was told you could help."
The vampire raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a slight smirk. "Information, huh? That's what they all want. Information has a price, mercenary. Especially in a place like this."
Shirou reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, unmarked envelope, setting it on the table between them. It contained a modest sum of money—enough to buy the vampire's attention but not enough to seem desperate. Shirou knew better than to appear too eager. These kinds of dealings required careful balance.
The vampire eyed the envelope, but he didn't reach for it right away. Instead, his gaze shifted back to Shirou, as if measuring him, testing the weight of the man sitting before him. "You've been asking questions about Van Fem."
Shirou's expression didn't change. "I have."
The vampire clicked his tongue softly, shaking his head. "Dangerous name to be throwing around, especially for someone without any real connections in the supernatural world. Van Fem doesn't like people prying into his affairs."
"That's not my concern," Shirou said flatly. "I need to know where he is. Or at least how to reach him."
The vampire leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he were trying to gauge how far Shirou was willing to go. "And why would you want that? Van Fem isn't the kind of man you simply 'reach.' Even if you found him, it wouldn't end well for you."
Shirou held the vampire's gaze, unflinching. "That's my business. Can you help me or not?"
For a long moment, the vampire said nothing, his eyes boring into Shirou's as if searching for something—fear, doubt, a hint of hesitation. But Shirou's resolve didn't waver. He had been through too much, seen too much, to be intimidated by a creature like this.
Finally, the vampire exhaled slowly and reached for the envelope. He opened it, flicked through the contents, and then slipped it into his cloak. "Alright, mercenary. I'll tell you what you need to know. But be warned—once you start down this path, there's no turning back."
Shirou didn't respond. He had already made his choice. This mission, this hunt, was his burden to bear. There was no turning back for him, not after everything he had lost.
The vampire settled back into his chair, his voice lowering to a near whisper as he spoke. "Van Fem doesn't operate openly. He keeps his business well hidden, and only those with the right connections can get close to him. But there are places where his influence stretches—places where his agents move goods and information on his behalf."
Shirou listened intently, his mind working through the details as the vampire continued.
"There's a place," the vampire went on, "not far from here. A warehouse, if you can call it that. It's more of a front for black market dealings. Van Fem's people frequent it—buying, selling, trading items that are... valuable to those with a taste for the dangerous."
"Do you know the location?" Shirou asked, his tone even.
The vampire gave a small nod. "I do. But getting inside will be another matter. They don't just let anyone walk in. You'll need leverage, something that gives you an edge. Otherwise, they'll kill you before you make it through the door."
"I'll manage," Shirou said simply.
The vampire smirked again, though this time it was tinged with a hint of admiration. "You're a bold one, I'll give you that. Here." He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small scrap of paper, sliding it across the table. "This is the location. But be careful—once you're in, there's no room for mistakes."
Shirou took the paper, his eyes scanning the address. It wasn't far, as the vampire had said. Just another step in the labyrinth that was the supernatural underworld. But a necessary one. He tucked the paper away, his mind already calculating his next move.
"You're a fool if you think you can walk away from this unscathed," the vampire added, his voice laced with a dark kind of amusement. "Van Fem is no ordinary vampire. He's a lord. He'll crush you if he gets the chance."
Shirou stood, sliding his chair back quietly as he prepared to leave. He had gotten what he came for, and lingering here any longer would only draw unnecessary attention. As he moved toward the door, the vampire's voice followed him.
"Good luck, mercenary. You'll need it."
Shirou paused for a moment at the threshold, glancing back at the vampire with cold, steady eyes. "Luck won't be necessary."
He stepped out into the night, the door creaking shut behind him. The street outside was quiet, the faint hum of distant traffic the only sound breaking the stillness. Shirou didn't linger—he moved with purpose, his footsteps carrying him deeper into the maze of alleyways and side streets, his mind focused on the task ahead.
The warehouse would be dangerous. That much was certain. But danger was something Shirou had long since come to accept. It was a constant, a companion that never left his side. And if this lead brought him closer to Jester Karture, closer to completing his mission, then he would see it through.
As he walked, his hand instinctively brushed against the pendant inside his jacket. The magic within it still pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat, a reminder of the path he was on. Van Fem was out there, and if he knows where he can find Jester Karture, then crossing paths with him will be worth it.
He will do anything to accomplish this mission.
Anything to be reunited with his little sister again.
The location was nondescript at first glance—an old warehouse buried deep in the industrial quarter of the city, its exterior rusted and forgotten like the countless other abandoned buildings that lined the docks. But beneath the surface, hidden away from prying eyes, was something far more dangerous: a black market where the supernatural world traded in rare, often illicit, goods.
Shirou stood at the edge of the alleyway, watching the warehouse's barely-visible entrance. He'd spent the last hour observing the comings and goings of various figures, most of them cloaked in the telltale signs of concealment magic. His contact's directions had been accurate. This was the place where Van Fem's underlings operated, quietly blending into the larger underworld that thrived in the city's forgotten corners.
He wasn't here to fight—at least not yet. Drawing unnecessary attention now could jeopardize his chances of getting closer to Van Fem. No, he needed to approach this carefully. Subtlety wasn't always his strongest suit, but in this situation, it was the most practical option. Shirou knew he was an outsider, a foreign element in a world of beings who thrived on distrust and paranoia. Any misstep could have catastrophic consequences.
Drawing his jacket tighter around him, Shirou stepped out of the alleyway and approached the entrance, his senses heightened for any signs of danger. The entrance was guarded by two figures—vampires, by the look of them—who barely spared him a glance as he walked by. Shirou moved with quiet purpose, doing his best to appear like he belonged there. He wasn't the only one heading inside, and among the throngs of various supernatural beings, he managed to blend in.
Inside, the atmosphere changed. The warehouse was larger than it appeared from the outside, its interior transformed into a bustling market of sorts, where magical items, relics, and weapons were being exchanged under the dim light of hanging bulbs. Creatures of all kinds moved between the stalls—vampires, demons, and even a few humans, each browsing the strange assortment of goods as if they were shopping at an ordinary market. But Shirou could feel the magic in the air, thick and potent. This was no ordinary market.
He took a moment to scan the area, his gaze searching for any sign of Van Fem's men. His contact had mentioned that they frequented this place, often buying and selling on their master's behalf. Shirou needed to find them, but he couldn't afford to draw attention to himself. With a practiced ease, he moved through the crowd, keeping his movements deliberate and unhurried.
At one of the stalls, he caught sight of something unusual—a group of figures standing together, their dark cloaks concealing their features, but their conversation caught his ear. Shirou slowed his pace, pretending to inspect a nearby stall, while his focus shifted to the voices coming from the group.
"...this should cover the cost," one of them said, handing over a small, rune-inscribed pouch to the vendor.
The vendor, a wiry man with sharp eyes, inspected the pouch with interest before nodding. "As agreed. These are dangerous items, you know. Make sure you handle them with care. If they fall into the wrong hands..."
"They won't," another cloaked figure replied, his voice calm but firm. "Van Fem's orders were clear."
Shirou's eyes narrowed slightly. Van Fem. That was his cue.
He watched as the transaction was completed. The cloaked figures collected a series of small, enchanted items from the vendor—odd trinkets that gave off faint magical auras. Shirou wasn't entirely sure what they were for, but their connection to Van Fem was clear. This group was working for him, and they were about to lead him directly to the next piece of the puzzle.
As the group finished their transaction and began to move toward the exit, Shirou let them walk ahead for a few paces before falling in behind them at a safe distance. He wasn't using any magic yet—nothing that would risk alerting them—but he kept a careful eye on their movements, ensuring he didn't lose them in the winding paths of the market.
Once they exited the warehouse, Shirou took a deep breath and decided it was time to shift tactics. Reaching into his coat, he projected the blade Carnwennan a dagger whose magical properties allowed him to conceal his presence, rendering him nearly invisible. He hadn't used it often, but for situations like this, it was invaluable. As the cloak of invisibility settled over him, Shirou felt his presence disappear from the supernatural senses of those around him.
The group of Van Fem's underlings continued to move through the dark streets, unaware that they were being followed. They led him through a maze of alleyways and narrow streets, finally leaving the industrial district behind as they moved toward the outskirts of the city. Shirou followed in silence, his footsteps soundless against the damp pavement.
Soon, they arrived at an area that was decidedly more desolate—a swampy stretch of land on the city's edge. The ground beneath their feet grew soft and muddy, the air heavy with the smell of stagnant water. The cloaked figures pressed on, seemingly unconcerned by the change in terrain. Shirou, however, remained alert. This was the kind of place where people disappeared without a trace, swallowed by the murky waters and hidden away from the world.
As they ventured deeper into the swamp, Shirou kept his distance, watching their every move. But just as he was adjusting his footing to follow them across a narrow path, something large and sudden burst from the water in front of him—a massive alligator, its scales glistening under the faint moonlight as it thrashed across the path.
The commotion was brief, but it was enough. Shirou's attention snapped to the creature for only a second, but when he looked back to the path ahead, the cloaked figures were gone. The silence that followed was deafening.
Shirou cursed under his breath. He'd lost them.
Dismissing Carnwennan's Projection, he let the cloak of invisibility drop, his senses returning to normal. For a moment, he stood still, listening to the swamp around him. The faint rustle of leaves, the croak of distant frogs, and the low hum of insects filled the air. But there was no trace of the group he had been following.
He wasn't ready to give up just yet. Closing his eyes, Shirou focused inward, drawing on his Structural Grasping magecraft. He extended his senses outward, feeling the magic that lingered in the air, searching for any traces of the group's presence. It didn't take long. A faint trail of magic, almost imperceptible, clung to the path they had taken.
Shirou began to follow the trail, his focus sharp as he moved deeper into the swamp. The terrain grew more treacherous, the ground shifting beneath his feet as he navigated the narrow, waterlogged paths. But eventually, the trail led him to a small clearing—a patch of dry ground surrounded by the murky waters of the swamp. It was here that the trail abruptly ended.
Before he could process what had happened, a sharp rustle from the trees caught his attention. Shirou's instincts flared, and within moments, a group of figures emerged from the shadows, surrounding him. They moved with the fluid grace of predators, their eyes gleaming with hunger and suspicion.
"You've been following us," one of them said, his voice low and accusatory. "Who sent you? Was it Enhance? Or are you working for the Romanians?"
Shirou's eyes flicked to each of them, quickly assessing the situation. There were five of them—vampires, by the look of them—and they were already on edge, ready to strike. He raised his hands slightly, showing that he wasn't holding any weapons.
"I'm not with any of them," Shirou said calmly. "I'm here to find Van Fem. I'm not your enemy."
The vampires exchanged glances, their suspicion palpable. The one who had spoken took a step closer, baring his fangs slightly. "That's what they all say. But no one comes here without a reason. You're a spy, aren't you? Sent to gather information for one of Van Fem's rivals."
Shirou shook his head, his expression steady. "I'm not a spy. I'm a mercenary. I need to speak with Van Fem about a business proposition."
"Business?" The vampire sneered. "Do you take us for fools? No one sees Van Fem unless he wants them to. And you? You're nothing but prey."
The tension snapped like a bowstring. Without warning, the vampires lunged at him, their speed unnatural, their claws extended. Shirou reacted instantly, dodging the first strike and summoning a pair of twin swords—*Kanshou* and *Bakuya*—into his hands. The familiar weight of the blades grounded him, and as the first vampire's attack came, Shirou parried it with ease.
He didn't want to kill them if he could avoid it. They were underlings, not his true target. But their aggression left him little choice.
The fight unfolded in a blur of movement. Shirou's blades danced through the air, deflecting strikes and landing precise blows that incapacitated his attackers without delivering fatal wounds. One vampire went down, clutching his side as blood seeped through his fingers. Another fell after Shirou's blade slashed across his leg, sending him sprawling into the mud.
One of the vampires came at Shirou with an unexpected ferocity, claws extended, aiming directly for his throat. Shirou raised Kanshou to block, but the force of the attack was stronger than he anticipated. He sidestepped, letting the vampire's momentum carry him forward, then spun and delivered a swift blow to the back of the vampire's neck with the flat of his blade. The vampire collapsed with a groan, dazed but still alive.
Shirou exhaled sharply, quickly surveying the area. Four of the vampires were now incapacitated, lying either unconscious or too injured to move. Only one remained standing, the leader of the group, his face twisted in rage. But there was something else in his eyes now—fear. He had seen Shirou cut through his comrades with ease, and though vampires were not easily intimidated, he clearly recognized that this fight was already over.
"Enough," the vampire snarled, holding up a hand. He took a cautious step back, his stance defensive. "You're good. I'll give you that. But you've made a mistake coming here."
Shirou kept his blades raised, though he didn't press the attack. "I told you, I'm not your enemy. I just want to meet Van Fem."
The vampire sneered, but his bravado was fading. "You think you can just walk up to him after attacking us? He'll have your head."
"I didn't want to fight you," Shirou replied calmly. "But you didn't give me a choice. Now, I'm giving you one. Either you tell me how to find Van Fem, or I'll make sure you regret it."
The vampire's eyes flickered to his fallen comrades. He was outmatched, and he knew it. His pride was the only thing keeping him from surrendering outright, but survival instinct was beginning to win out.
"You're not going to like it," the vampire finally said, his voice bitter.
Shirou lowered his blades slightly, listening.
"You don't meet Van Fem by just showing up at his doorstep. He's too careful for that. But there is one way..." The vampire's voice trailed off as if he were reluctant to share the information.
"Go on," Shirou urged, his tone firm.
"There's a game," the vampire said. "A casino game he runs every week on his private yacht. It's the only place he shows up in public, and even then, it's only to those invited. High stakes, high rewards. You want to meet him? That's your ticket in. But don't expect him to go easy on you. The stakes in his games... aren't just money."
Shirou frowned. "A casino game? That's the only way?"
The vampire nodded, still eyeing him warily. "Unless you want to try breaking into his fortress, but trust me, you won't get far. The game is called Fem's Casa and his private Yacht is called the Joie de Vivre. It docks in the Monte Carlo Harbor, but it's only accessible by invitation, you buy the ticket for the game directly which will cause you one million Euro, or if you find another way in through... other means."
Shirou considered the information. It wasn't ideal, but it was a lead—better than wandering aimlessly through the underworld trying to track Van Fem down. And while he didn't particularly care for gambling, he had enough experience navigating high-stakes situations to handle himself.
"Monaco, huh?" Shirou murmured. "When's the next game?"
"The games happen every week, but if you want in, you'll have to find a way to get yourself invited. Or sneak aboard. Either way, don't think you'll be the only one with their eye on Van Fem. He's got enemies all over Europe."
Shirou sheathed his blades, the threat in his stance fading. "Thanks for the information. Now, get your friends out of here before I change my mind about leaving you alive."
The vampire growled but didn't argue. He quickly moved to help one of his comrades, lifting the injured vampire to his feet. The others began to stir, groaning as they regained consciousness. As they limped away into the swamp, Shirou watched them go, his mind already shifting to his next move.
Van Fem's private yacht. A casino game. It was an unusual setup, but then again, nothing about the supernatural world was ever straightforward. He would need to prepare carefully. Van Fem wasn't just a powerful vampire; he was one of the wealthiest and most influential figures in the supernatural underworld. Approaching him directly would require more than just brute strength.
Once the vampires had disappeared from sight, Shirou took a deep breath and turned back toward the city. He needed to regroup and plan his next steps. Monaco was a few days' journey from his current location, and getting there would require more than just a plane ticket. But first, he needed to gather his gear and make sure he was ready for whatever challenges awaited him on this Casino game called Fem's Casa.
Back at his temporary safehouse, a modest apartment in the heart of the city, Shirou laid out his gear on the small dining table. His thoughts were focused, his mind running through different scenarios he might face aboard Van Fem's yacht. He couldn't go in unprepared. While his goal was to meet Van Fem and establish a dialogue, there was no telling what kind of dangers he might encounter in such a place.
The supernatural world's elite didn't play by the same rules as humans. A casual card game could quickly turn into a life-or-death situation if someone decided they didn't like the outcome. And with Van Fem's reputation, it was likely that the stakes would be far more than just money or prestige.
Shirou packed a few essentials—his enchanted blades, *Kanshou* and *Bakuya* along with a few other projection spells he could rely on if things went south. He would need to be careful about how much magic he used in the presence of other powerful beings, but he wasn't planning on starting a fight. Ideally, he would stay under the radar, observe, and find the right moment to approach Van Fem.
He paused, considering his wardrobe. If he was going to blend in at a high-stakes casino on a luxury yacht, he couldn't exactly walk in wearing his usual combat gear. With a resigned sigh, he reached for a suit he'd kept packed away for occasions like this. It wasn't something he enjoyed wearing, but appearances mattered in places like Monaco.
As he straightened the lapels of the suit jacket, his phone buzzed on the table. He picked it up, seeing a message from his contact—the same one who had directed him to the black market earlier.
Got you a ticket on a flight to Monaco. Leaves tomorrow morning. You'll be met by someone who can get you close to the yacht. Be careful, Shirou. Van Fem doesn't play fair.
Shirou smirked slightly. He wasn't surprised. Nothing about this situation had been fair from the start, but he wasn't someone who relied on fairness to get things done.
After a final check of his gear, Shirou packed everything into a small, inconspicuous bag. He double-checked the seals on his magical items, ensuring they wouldn't attract unnecessary attention during his travels. Then, he sat down at the edge of the bed, his thoughts wandering to what might await him in Monaco.
He knew Van Fem was dangerous, but he also knew that danger wasn't always something to be avoided. If he could play his cards right—both literally and figuratively—there was a chance he could turn this situation to his advantage. But he had to be cautious. Van Fem wasn't just a powerful vampire; he was a master of manipulation, someone who thrived in the shadows of the underworld.
Shirou would have to be sharper, smarter, and more careful than ever. One wrong move, and the stakes could become far more than just a business deal.
The night passed in silence, and as the first light of dawn broke through the curtains, Shirou stood, gathering his things. Monaco awaited, and with it, the chance to finally confront Van Fem face-to-face. Whatever happened next, Shirou was ready. The game was about to begin.
To be Continued.
I've been meaning to upload this months ago, however, I got sidetracked to my newest stories to the point that I nearly forgot about this story. Just want to let you know, I still haven't decided which Sacred Gears I should give him, but to be honest, I'm kind off tempted to give Shirou the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception Instead.