Fate Grand Order: Broadcasting Master Love — Chapter 38

Chapter 38: The Uncle Whose Setting Was So Long It Was Omitted

The broadcast screen flickered back to life, illuminating the dim, jagged interior of a deep subterranean cave. Shadows danced across the uneven rock walls, broken only by the rhythmic, echoing drip-drop of condensation pooling into hidden puddles. As the Chaldea team’s footsteps broke the silence, a familiar figure stepped into the sparse light. Hector slouched against a stalagmite, his posture impossibly relaxed. He tilted his head, lazily scratching his messy hair, and offered a bright, easygoing grin.

“Oh, you’re here, you’re here,” he drawled, his tone light and entirely devoid of hostility. “Hello there, genuine Heroic Spirits.”

Da Vinci stepped forward, her sharp eyes sweeping over the spearman with analytical precision. Her brow arched slightly. “In other words, are you also a Counterfeit Heroic Spirit?”

Gripping her shield, Mash lingered half a step behind the genius Caster. She leaned forward, her violet eyes wide with hesitation. “Mr. Hector, you too—”

Hector let out a hearty, rumbling laugh, the crinkles around his eyes deepening with genuine amusement. “Ah, well, Servants are essentially counterfeit existences anyway, aren’t we? Just shadows on a wall. So, if you’re willing to give me a pass, this uncle here would be very happy.”

Emiya immediately stepped to the front, crossing his arms over his chest. His silver hair caught the faint cave light, and his steel-gray eyes narrowed. “That is impossible,” he rejected the plea outright, his tone leaving absolutely zero room for negotiation. “The fact that Counterfeits have been leaked into this Singularity will not change. We are cleaning this up.”

Hector offered a helpless, exaggerated shrug. The lazy smile on his lips faded just a fraction, replaced by a long, drawn-out sigh. “The mindset of an Ally of Justice is truly stubborn.”

Shifting his weight, the veteran mercenary turned his gaze toward Fujimaru Ritsuka. His expression softened into something more approachable, testing the waters. “And then, Master? I feel like if it’s you, your way of thinking should be a bit more flexible.”

Ritsuka’s brow furrowed. She met his gaze without backing down, her voice steady in the echoing cavern. “I hope you can tell us your objective first.”

Hector blinked, genuinely stunned for a split second. He raised a calloused hand to rub his scruffy chin, staring up at the cave ceiling as if searching for a script. “Objective… Objective, huh. Actually, strictly speaking, my objective… should be something like getting headpats.”

Mash froze. A small, utterly lost sound escaped her lips. “Eh?”

Beside her, Da Vinci slapped a palm over her own face, dragging her fingers down her cheeks with a heavy sigh. “I say, what on earth are you talking about?” she scolded, her voice dripping with exasperated amusement. “That’s just pure nonsense!”

Waving a dismissive hand at the two of them, Hector maintained an expression of absolute, deadpan seriousness. “Hey now, this uncle is responsible for being spoiled. As the Counterfeit Heroic Spirit Hector, the specific character attribute this uncle governs is—”

He paused, taking a deliberate breath. Then, projecting his voice so it echoed dramatically off the cavern walls, he announced with inexplicable pride: “The liberal uncle who returned from overseas, has a straightforward personality, and may or may not be related by blood!”

Outside the screen, in the Fifth Holy Grail War timeline, Tohsaka Rin stared at the broadcast with her jaw practically unhinged.

“Hah?!” she blurted out, throwing her hands up in utter disbelief. “That setting is way too long! And why does a setting like that even exist in the first place? Are Servants being summoned just to play out weird family roleplay tropes?!”

Back on the screen, Ritsuka stood frozen in a daze. When her brain finally processed the sheer absurdity of the title, she blurted out, “So long!”

Mash blinked rapidly, her shield lowering an inch as curiosity overrode her combat instincts. “And… that’s amazing. But where exactly is the starting point for the ‘overseas’ you just mentioned?”

Emiya quickly reached out, chopping a hand through the air to cut off the conversation. His expression was a mask of cautious dread. “Don’t. Stop right there. If you continue to dig into such vague, poorly constructed settings, you’re only going to bring a headache upon yourselves.”

Hector chuckled, waving his hand lazily. “In other words, what is required of me is infinite tolerance. I must be gentle, accommodating, and perfectly obedient.”

Emiya’s eyes darkened as the pieces clicked together. “Combined with Alexander’s earlier testimony… it seems the mastermind behind this—the opponent’s Master—is a rather selfish person.”

Hector laughed again, the sound warm and echoing. “Selfish, huh? But that kind of personality is also quite endearing, isn’t it?”

He leaned forward, resting his weight on his spear, his gaze turning surprisingly sharp and insightful. “Demanding the impossible from someone means wanting to test if they are truly trustworthy. And the reason someone constantly tests if others are trustworthy… is precisely because their own heart is extremely insecure.”

A soft, genuine smile spread across the grizzled veteran’s face. “Isn’t that kind of cute?”

In the New Chaldea Control Room, the holographic monitors cast a soft, blue glow over the staff. The previously tense atmosphere had completely dissolved, replaced by a lighthearted warmth thanks to the sheer absurdity playing out on the broadcast screen.

“It really is quite cute,” Ritsuka murmured, echoing Hector’s sentiment. A playful grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. She turned on her heel, her bright eyes locking directly onto Jeanne d’Arc Alter—the true mastermind behind the entire Counterfeit incident—who was standing near the back of the room.

Jalter flinched violently under Ritsuka’s blunt, teasing gaze. A furious crimson flush instantly exploded across her pale cheeks. She bared her fangs, desperately trying to force her usual terrifying scowl, but her voice cracked in pure panic. “W-What are you looking at me for?! Watch out or I’ll burn you to ash!”

Jeanne d’Arc covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking as a melodic laugh escaped her. Her eyes crinkled with warm, sisterly affection. “Alter really is just starved for affection, isn’t she?”

Standing beside them, Jeanne d’Arc Alter Santa Lily wrinkled her small nose, her face scrunching up in undisguised second-hand embarrassment. She let out a heavy, dramatic sigh. “My grown-up self, honestly… to think she sat down and came up with so many embarrassing, cliché settings…”

Surrounded by teasing from all sides, Jalter’s brain short-circuited. The bashfulness on her face melted into sheer, unadulterated mortification. Having completely run out of threatening comebacks, she stomped her heavy armored boot against the metal floorboards.

“Ugh, shut up! Forget it!” she shrieked, burying her burning face in her hands. “I’m so mad!”