Shinji Matou At Your Service

It's never safe for a young, beautiful woman to walk alone at night. If local law enforcement is lax and crime is rampant, she becomes like a "moth lamp," attracting all sorts of ill-intentioned people.

Two men were already following her. They had the idea of attacking her in a place where the police couldn't see and where there were few pedestrians.

The woman staggered lightly, stepping into a narrow alley between buildings without a second thought. This wasn't just a situation where they would steal her handbag and leave. If a tourist disappeared, no one would notice. The men intended to take everything from her—money, body, and life. They reached out to the woman with the intent to seize it all.

In this place, even if she screamed, no one would care.

That's what the men thought. However, they probably didn't expect that the woman was thinking the same thing.

Having experienced the highs and lows of life and living in the gray areas of society, Reika had a deep understanding of both the upper and lower echelons, of black and white. She was accustomed to these shadowy dealings and knew how to handle them.

Reika's steps were light, her white sneakers making slight squeaks on the dark pavement. She seemed completely unaware of the greedy eyes behind her and the hands of sin drawing ever closer.

"Oh?" The man who reached out let out a cry of surprise.

For some reason, his outstretched hand never touched the woman's shoulder. In that instant, he felt like he was trying to grab a ghost, which made him shiver with fear.

But when he heard the crack of breaking bones and felt the intense pain in his arm, he finally understood his situation.

His hand was broken, but why? The woman hadn't even turned around.

Before he could reflexively think of an answer, even more intense pain surged through him.

"Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!?"

A tremendous force struck the man's abdomen, and with the horrifying sensation of all his internal organs churning, he was sent flying, slamming heavily against the walls on either side of the alley.

"Huh?" The other man, who had been slower to react and hadn't yet reached out, stood there in bewilderment.

He had no idea what had happened. His partner had just reached out and then had his arm broken and was sent flying.

This has to be a joke, right? This is the kind of scene you only see in fantasy movies.

What on earth happened?

Could it be that they had encountered some kind of evil spirit?

"Ah..." After a moment, the other man finally snapped back to reality. They were just moths drawn to the flame. Moths that fly into the flame inevitably get burned.

Realizing this, the man turned to flee. He wanted to run to the main street, to the police, where he would be safe—though in his panic, he didn't have time to think about whether the police could handle something so supernatural.

As he turned his head, he felt a chill down his back, as if something sharp was pressed against it. That feeling was familiar to him, like when he held a knife to someone's back while taking them hostage.

"Mom, can I eat him now?" came an innocent, sweet voice from behind.

Though the man didn't understand what was being said, he dared not move, fearing that any movement would cause the knife to plunge into his body.

"No, Jack," Reika said, shaking her head at the small Jack who had materialized from spiritual form. "They are still useful to Mom."

"Got it, Mom." Jack nodded and withdrew the knife.

Upon discovering that the person restraining him was just a child, the man felt a sudden sense of relief. He summoned all his strength and kicked at Jack, intending to teach this ignorant kid a lesson.

However, no matter how he kicked, he couldn't touch the child who was right in front of him. It wasn't that Jack did anything; it was because at the moment he kicked, someone grabbed him by the nape and lifted him high, well out of reach.

"Scum!"

The stern voice and cold gaze, coupled with the increasing pressure and invisible fear, struck terror into the man's heart.

"Miss Reika, although I, like you, don't agree with letting children kill, I don't understand why you're keeping these two scumbags alive."

The one lifting the man was, of course, Artoria. Born in a chaotic era and having ruled a nation, she had a deep-seated hatred for people like him. In turbulent times, harsh measures were necessary, and she and her knights would execute such scum without hesitation.

No, Artoria, you are not like me. As long as Jack is happy, these pieces of trash can be killed. I would unconditionally indulge those I care for.

Reika didn't say these thoughts out loud, knowing that the noble Knight King would never agree. Instead, she calmly replied, "I have two main reasons for keeping them. First, they can be of use to us."

"Useful to us? These scum?" The disdain in Artoria's eyes was clear under her hood. She flung the man aside, sending him crashing into the unlucky bastard she had earlier sent flying with her magical power. Unlike other Servants who relied on their Masters for mana, Artoria, bearing the dragon's essence, could self-sustain her mana as long as she didn't engage in high-intensity combat—though consuming food to convert it into mana was inefficient.

"A person's abilities and character are not directly correlated. Even scum have their value, don't you agree, gentlemen?" Reika, holding Jack's hand, walked up to the two scumbags, smiling brightly.

Despite their severe injuries, the two men felt a surge of lust, quickly cooled by the sight of the knife-wielding child at Reika's side. They hurriedly expressed their stance.

"We are very useful."

"Don't kill us."

"We urgently need to get to Sighisoara. Do you have any quick means to get there? If you do, not only will I overlook your offense, but I'll also reward you handsomely."

Reika pulled out a stack of U.S. dollars from her handbag, at least twenty bills. Having been through many ups and downs, she knew well how to deal with such scum.

"This is a down payment. With this, you can drink or find women and enjoy yourselves for a few days. If you're unwilling, I won't force you. But—Jack, show Mom your knife skills on that wall over there."

"Okay, Mom." In the blink of an eye, Jack slashed the wall dozens of times, leaving shocking marks and scattering concrete debris all over the two scumbags.

This kid is a monster too, thought the man who had initially considered attacking lJack, his heart now filled with cold dread. The other man felt the same.

A kid whose knife skills were too fast to follow, and someone with the strength to lift a person with one hand—these people were not ordinary. Perhaps they were elite assassins trained by some underground organization. Two street-level thugs like them couldn't possibly provoke such individuals.

Faced with the choice between a wad of green bills and a life-threatening situation, the scum's integrity was clear.

"We know a way."

"We'll handle it."