Magician in Type-Moon

Page 657

Matou Ike put down the half-eaten foie gras biscuit, gracefully picked up the teacup, and slowly sipped the black tea, as if the other party were merely a guest visiting according to etiquette.

He used this brief pause to calm his displeasure at being disturbed and to remember the person's name.

He raised his eyes, his gaze calm yet carrying a subtle, almost imperceptible coldness, and replied:

“It is not commendable to rudely trespass on someone’s temporary residence, Mr. Grazier.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, his tone carrying just the right amount of reproach, which made his stance clear without immediately making the atmosphere too tense.

With his neatly trimmed short hair and muscular physique, Mick's image was indeed unforgettable.

"Yes!"

Mick Grazie gave a short, American-style response, awkwardly closing one eye and winking in agreement, seemingly not taking Matou Ike's rebuke to heart at all, or perhaps deliberately responding with this flippant attitude.

He was one of the three remaining Meastia magicians, and his appearance at this moment was clearly not accidental.

"What is it?" Matou Ike asked directly, not wanting to waste any more time with him.

Mick's smile faded slightly. He leaned forward a little, lowered his voice, and said with a hint of inquiry:

“No, it’s nothing serious… just now, didn’t you hear any ‘strange’ noises?” He gestured with his hands.

"It sounds a bit like... um... the kind of sharp, pitiful scream a stray cat makes when it's being thrown out of its cage? It seems to be coming from around here."

His hearing seemed to be exceptionally sharp.

Matou Ike's heart skipped a beat, but his expression remained calm and unchanged.

He put down his teacup and denied it in an extremely calm tone:

“You’re overthinking it, Mr. Grazier,” he said. “It was probably just the sound of the wind blowing through the trees outside the tower, or the call of some kind of waterbird from the lake district. We didn’t hear anything.”

At the same time, he very naturally turned his gaze to Arcueid beside him. That glance, seemingly casual, was in fact a very clear, cautionary instruction—

He gestured to Arcueid with his eyes to immediately and completely suppress any vampiric urges or inhuman aura that might leak out, and to maintain an absolute human disguise.

“Is that so?” Mick Gragillier’s smile remained unchanged, as if he accepted Matou Ike’s explanation.

However, his right hand suddenly stretched out to the side at a speed so fast it was almost invisible, not to attack, but with his five fingers flying and his fingertips forming a complex and unique 'seal' shape with extreme dexterity.

That gesture was ancient and mysterious, carrying an exotic and powerful charm.

Matouchi instantly recognized that he seemed to have seen a variation of that pattern or its origin in some esoteric Buddhist materials from somewhere in Asia; it was definitely not a common starting gesture in modern Western magic.

Clang!

A loud, rough sound, like metal clashing, did not come from the physical realm, but echoed on the level of magical perception!

Matou Ike immediately felt a kind of invisible and intangible yet exceptionally resilient magic power, which instantly covered and enveloped the entire room like a cold 'veil'.

This is a barrier that isolates the inside from the outside; it is quite strong and its construction is rather unique.

Although the magic itself did not seem to carry any direct malice or aggression, Matou Ike could not remain silent since the other party had used magic in front of him without permission.

His eyes instantly turned cold:

“What are you planning to do, Mr. Grazier?” His voice carried a clear warning.

Mick then seemed to just remember to explain, casually nodding and even giving an exaggerated bow, his frivolous manner completely out of place in this serious setting.

"Oh dear, my apologies. At least we should set up a 'barrier' first,"

He said casually, "After all, it's not surprising that someone is eavesdropping in this tower, is it? It's better to keep the conversation a secret."

He straightened his back and continued explaining, his tone half-serious and half-joking:

"As you can see, my magic is somewhat 'unique' in its own way, following the Tantric Buddhist approach,"

He shook the hand seal he had just formed. "Because my family background isn't top-tier, my inheritance contains all sorts of miscellaneous elements, so please excuse the poor quality. However,"

He then changed the subject, saying, "Now that I've revealed this 'origin,' could you please 'trust me' a little? I just want to ensure the safety of our conversation."

“...So, in other words,” Matou Ike narrowed his eyes, “you’re going to talk about… a topic that ‘can’t be heard by others’?” He grasped the crux of the matter.

"Haha, that's it!" The dark-skinned man scratched his head, grinned, revealing his snow-white teeth, and readily admitted it.

Then, he suddenly dropped his frivolous smile, leaned forward slightly, and quietly pressed his index finger to his lips, murmuring in an almost breathless voice, yet with a startling calmness in his tone:

"Actually, I am a 'spy'."

"...Huh?" This overly direct, even somewhat absurd, self-introduction left Matou Ike's brows furrowing in a half-hearted manner, unsure how to react for a moment. Who introduces themselves like that?

Mick, still wearing that smug smile that seemed to suggest he was sharing some interesting secret, continued:

"I was commissioned by a 'big shot' from 'certain' faction to infiltrate this social gathering in order to investigate certain matters."

Up to this point, this was something that was frequently heard about in the Clock Tower. The factional struggles here were extremely intricate and ruthless. Double and triple spies were not uncommon, and deception was commonplace. To some extent, this was also the result of a somewhat "touching" effort (ironically) made by those branch families established with the 'Origin Imprint' in an attempt to slightly reduce such acts of betrayal.

Matou Ike temporarily suppressed her urge to retort and calmly asked in return:

"So, esteemed 'spy' sir, what business do you have with 'me'?" He emphasized the word "me".

Mick's smile deepened, and he looked directly into Matou Ike's eyes, saying:

“I would like to make a ‘deal’ with you, Lord Matou.”

"With me? Now that things have come to this... what are we going to trade?" Matou Ike asked, somewhat puzzled.

However, Mick's next statement was completely different from all of Matouchi's predictions and assumptions.

He lowered his voice again, his voice filled with both allure and danger:

"...Should we just 'dismantle' Izeruma?"

A humorous tone, carrying a deep sense of earnestness, echoed in the room.

To dismantle Izeruma.

That would be tantamount to declaring war on the three noble families, Balyeleta.

Especially the Baleretta clan, which gained immense power after the Grand Order decision.

Coupled with the death of the Golden Princess, this move could very well drag the entire Clock Tower into a quagmire of war.

Nevertheless, the man who made such an absurd suggestion just chuckled foolishly.

"...What are you saying?" Matou Ike's voice lowered, carrying obvious scrutiny and disbelief.

Dismantle a key branch of a clock tower? This is no suggestion to be made casually in someone's guest room, especially by someone who has just confessed to being a spy.

"That goes without saying, it means exactly what it says."

Mick shrugged, his tone as casual as if he were discussing what to have for dinner rather than the upheaval of a magic family.

The man who claimed to be a spy stared boldly at Matou Ike, his smug smile still on his face. But deep in his eyes, there was no trace of amusement; instead, his eyes gleamed with a calm, assessing, and even cruelly curious light.

That look in his eyes was just like that of a white mouse in an experiment, watching how it would react to new stimuli.

Matou Ike didn't avoid his gaze; instead, she looked directly at him and asked the most crucial and direct question:

"Are you confessing... that you are the 'murderer' who killed the Golden Princess?"

Only a murderer or mastermind would be so eager to use this tragedy to completely destroy a family.

"No, no, no." Mick immediately raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, shaking his head vigorously in an exaggerated and comical manner, denying it very quickly.

"It's a 'coincidence,' purely a 'coincidence'! Oh, it's true, I swear to God,"

He even raised his hand, his tone becoming somewhat dejected.

“I never imagined… that the Golden Princess would die such a… tragic death. It completely disrupted my original plans.” He lowered his head as if genuinely dejected, but how much of this performance was genuine was questionable.

However, he immediately changed his tone, becoming realistic and cold:

"However, once a 'coincidence' occurs, it is incorporated into the consideration of 'inevitability.' The death of the Golden Princess is now an unchangeable and simple fact, isn't it?"

He raised his eyes, his gaze sharp. "From now on, everyone can only act based on 'this premise.' The only difference lies in how to utilize this established fact."

He leaned forward slightly, his voice lower and more seductive:

“Well, for example, let me give you an example—” His smile became meaningful.

"For you, Lord Matou, isn't it exactly what you want to do to take this opportunity to 'reduce' the influence and proportion of the Clock Tower—especially the Balyereta branch—in this world?"

Chapter 682 Refusal and Attack (4k)

"What is your 'purpose'?" Ignoring the grand allure of factional balance, Matou Ike cut straight to the heart of the matter, her tone becoming sharper, "What do you hope to gain from making this proposal?"

Mick's smug smile froze slightly, seemingly surprised that the other party would so directly skip over the "whether to cooperate" aspect and directly question his personal motives. He blinked, feigning surprise:

"Purpose? Didn't I just mention it? Weakening Baruyeleta is beneficial to everyone..."

Matou Ike deliberately interrupted his pre-argued questions with a more direct, even interrogative, tone:

“You Meastia faction should always claim to ‘remain neutral.’ Is the powerlessness of the democrats really that ‘important’ to you ‘neutral’ people? Is it worth the risk?” He pointed out the first contradiction.

"Moreover, as far as I know, during this period, aren't the three major ideologies of the Clock Tower (nobility, democracy, and neutrality) in a rare 'honeymoon period'? Aren't you undermining this fragile peace by doing this?"

He stared into Mick's eyes and gave his conclusion, word by word:

"So I think your claim that it's for the benefit of your faction is just an excuse, and that you have 'ulterior motives'—that's normal, and please tell the truth."

“…Hahaha.” Mick paused for a moment, then burst into even louder laughter. “As expected…I couldn’t fool you so easily, could I?”

He deliberately cleared his throat, as if he were a little embarrassed that he had been seen through.

However, Matou Ike had no sense that he really intended to 'deceive' him.

The other party's denial seems more like a formulaic performance, purely an attempt to induce oneself to voluntarily state the conclusion.

Matou Ike knew that humans have a tendency to believe more in the answers they find step by step rather than those directly told to them by others.

Mick clearly knew this trick well. Regardless of whether he actually intended to deceive, he was subtly clarifying the premises and guiding the conversation in order to 'smoothly' steer it in the direction he desired.

Therefore, his initial statement of "dismantling Izeluma" was likely carefully considered, a calculated move to quickly pique Matou Ike's interest and get him to "seriously consider" it.

In other words, this is a conversational strategy for how to 'reduc' Matou Ike's reactions to numerous possible options and quickly focus on the path he provides.

Although this person casually claimed to be a spy and adopted a very relaxed attitude, the 'process' of the conversation he arranged was at least quite reasonable and efficient.

Perhaps sensing Matou Ike's thoughts and knowing that the other had seen through his guiding strategy, Mick, still wearing that smug smile, stopped beating around the bush and directly brought up the real topic:

“Actually,” he lowered his voice, a hint of genuine warmth creeping in, “I want to take this opportunity to get my hands on something… a ‘cursed object’.”

Cursed objects—also known as cursed bodies.