Reborn with Steve Stand-Chapter 864: Gathering…

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In Fuyuki City, in the Emiya household kitchen…

Shirou Emiya and Sakura Matou were busy handling ingredients.

Because suddenly there were so many more people to feed, the workload of cooking had skyrocketed, leaving Shirou a bit overwhelmed.

Meanwhile, at the dining table…

Logan, Rin Tohsaka, the Ancient One, the Summoned, Boros, and Aki Hayakawa were having what you might call a conversation.

Well, “conversation” might be too generous.

In truth, they were all just sharing stories about Fang Mo’s…shall we say, peculiar “mental condition.”

The Ancient One spoke first, calmly sipping her tea:

“He tricked my student Strange into using a wheelchair, then arranged for his followers to chop off both of Strange’s hands.

Also, he drowned an alien civilization’s home planet with a great flood. And to detoxify a friend of his, he carved out every single bone in the guy’s body.”

“Jeez…”

Logan inhaled sharply through his teeth.

Aki Hayakawa practically gnashed his teeth:

“He lied to me that my wife was dead. Then he secretly recorded me crying my eyes out and played the video at our wedding in front of everybody. On top of that, he planned to carve a giant…dick on the surface of the moon.”

“Gah…”

Logan couldn’t help gasping a second time.

Boros, however, burst out laughing:

“He fought this guy called Saitama and ended up slicing an entire planet in half with one strike! Plus, he loves using poop to humiliate his enemies—like sealing them in a pile of excrement for ten thousand years!”

Logan’s scalp practically went numb.

“So why am I here, too?”

A petite demon-realm girl clutched her face in despair.

“Is this some kind of ‘expose the devil’ meeting?”

“Reverse summoning, Huahua,” Fang Mo said offhandedly. He waved a hand in greeting. “You and I signed that two-headed dragon contract a while back, so technically I can summon you.”

“Two-headed dragon contr— Wait, you—what did he do to you?”

Rin Tohsaka and Logan both stared wide-eyed at the little demon girl, cutting her off before she could finish.

Thanks to a special barrier the Ancient One had thrown up using dimensional powers, the language barrier wasn’t a problem. It functioned somewhat like Fang Mo’s “language localization” mod, though it was weaker. (Puns and “text-face” humor wouldn’t really come across.)

“What did he do…?”

The little demon girl’s face looked bleak.

“He buried me in the ground and threatened to, um, ‘fertilize’ me. Then he turned me into a snowman—claimed it was ‘moist’—and went around telling everyone I’m the ‘Poison Tactician Queen,’ the root cause of all evil on the Arad continent…”

“Like, for example…?” someone prompted.

“Oh, you know—lying to Paladin so she’d sink a kingdom under the sea, causing mass deaths… flattening Sky Tower… enslaving the city lord… forcing the Bantu to invade… awakening the Ice Dragon… destroying a major magic formation… setting Gran–something ablaze… wiping out the Dark Elves… spreading plagues… All sorts of stuff.”

“Yup, all of it’s the fault of the Poison Tactician Queen!”

Fang Mo nodded seriously, giving her a pat on the shoulder.

“Oh, right, he also killed our universe’s creator deity, the Great Will, Carloso.”

“Dude, could you be more of a monster?” Logan glowered. “Messing with adults is one thing, but come on…she’s just a kid.”

“She only looks like a kid,” Fang Mo said brightly, still snacking on melon seeds. “You can’t lump demon-realm folks together with us humans. If her Ghost Armor set reached a +17 red enhancement, even Anton would kneel before her.”

“…She’s not an adult, though, is she?”

Logan scowled, pointing to Rin Tohsaka next.

“All right then—how about her? I bet she’s underage, too. What did you do in her world?”

Rin Tohsaka frowned as if recalling something infuriating:

“In our world, there’s a ritual that summons ‘Heroic Spirits’ from history. Seven magi compete, and the winner gets the Holy Grail, which grants wishes. Well, he pretended to be my Servant—calling himself ‘Hitler,’ of all things—and said he was going to help me restart WWII and wipe out every Jew on earth. His power was way above all the other Servants combined, and it practically gave me—”

“A massive headache?”

Aki Hayakawa murmured into his tea, looking PTSD-stricken.

“Exactly!”

Rin Tohsaka glared at Fang Mo.

“The most aggravating part is, not only did he do all that, but in the end he managed to ‘wash himself clean,’ convincing everyone he was a peace-loving saint while I got tricked into killing him—and I felt guilty about it for so long…”

“What’s ‘Hitler,’ exactly?” the little demon girl asked curiously.

“A purely evil warmonger,” Logan grumbled. “An accursed specter of Europe. Think of him as a demon.”

“Well, then that was basically a perfect typecast,” the little demon girl remarked. “He is a demon, after all.”

Logan couldn’t help shooting Fang Mo a meaningful look.

“I thought what you did in our world was scummy enough, but apparently you cause trouble in every world you visit?”

Fang Mo just laughed. “Come on. If I’m a true old-school ‘German troll,’ then obviously I can’t be lacking in German-ness, right? In the end, though, you all end up thanking me anyway…”

“You—!”

Logan started to retort, but then paused. Thinking it over… in his own world, every single crisis had been resolved by Fang Mo in the end: from the Black King Sebastian to Colonel Stryker to the Sentinel robots. Fang Mo always started out by making trouble, but he also ended up saving the day. It was confusing, to say the least.

By reflex, Logan glanced around the table at the others. Judging by their faces, it seemed they all felt the same way.

“I swear…”

Logan sighed, rubbing his temples. “Can’t you just be a normal savior for once?”

“Sorry,” Fang Mo shrugged. “Can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

Now everyone looked puzzled. They all stared at Fang Mo, clearly not getting it.

“Yeah, why not?”

Supporting his chin with one hand, Fang Mo sounded almost whimsical:

“I guess I just haven’t come across a world hopeless enough to warrant that from me.”

“Oh, really,” Rin Tohsaka gave a little huff, turning her face away. “Then…maybe I hope you never do.”

“No kidding,” Logan nodded. “Stop destroying worlds, would you? Seriously.”

“Eh, we’ll see.”

Fang Mo’s reply was vague. He’d never claimed to be a saint—more of a flesh-and-blood guy who knew what he loved and hated. If he really did end up in some rotten-to-the-core world, or if somebody in that world hurt someone he truly cared about…well, he wouldn’t hesitate to annihilate it.

“You…”

Logan frowned, suspecting Fang Mo’s train of thought wasn’t especially wholesome.

“Anyway,” someone else cut in, clearly adept at sensing a shift in the atmosphere, “we’ve got folks here from different worlds, right? Six total. So that means Fang Mo has traveled to six worlds?”

“I doubt it’s only six,” the Ancient One said calmly, shaking her head.

“Indeed,” Fang Mo nodded. “Let me see… Marvel, X-Men, Chainsaw Man, One Punch, Arad (the demon-realm girl’s place), and the Fate world. Aside from you guys, there are probably three more I’ve been to.”

“Where are those people?”

Boros asked excitedly. “They strong? Do they like fighting?”

“They’re decent, but no match for you.”

Fang Mo recalled some top-tier foes in Naruto or Bleach might be strong but probably still weaker than star-busting Boros, who was at least top three in One Punch Man outside of Saitama. Hard to match that from normal shounen anime.

“Ugh, then that’s boring.”

Boros lost interest immediately.

“So those names you just rattled off—Marvel, One Punch, etc.—are those your pet names for each world?”

Rin Tohsaka asked, curious. “How do you even label them? What about our world? What do you call it?”

“I just made them up on the spot,” Fang Mo lied without blinking. “For example, Logan’s world left me the strongest impression of the X-Men, so I call it ‘X-Men.’ Aki’s place had a huge ‘Chainsaw Man’ phenomenon, so I call it ‘Chainsaw Man.’”

“…”

The Ancient One said nothing, merely glancing at him in silence.

“So what’s our world called, then?” Rin refused to let it go. “Give me a proper answer, you jerk!”

“There’s actually another guest who hasn’t shown up yet…”

Fang Mo ignored her and muttered, “But I’m not sure if I want to summon him—he’s kind of dangerous. Still, I do want a chance to talk with him.”

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Logan glanced at Fang Mo. “More dangerous than you?”

“Well, not that dangerous.”

Fang Mo shrugged. “I said earlier he probably couldn’t beat Boros.”

“So just call him over.”

The Summon spoke up absentmindedly.

“Hmm, sure.”

Fang Mo nodded, pulling out a purple-and-white Ender Greatsword from behind his back. “Come on out, Dye Bro.”

Without warning…

A massive surge of spiritual pressure erupted across Fuyuki City.

“!?”

Everyone’s face changed instantly. This was an overwhelming, soul-crushing force. It was hard to describe—some could barely move a finger, their minds stalling, terror on their faces.

“Hey, ease up on the spiritual pressure, will you?”

Luckily, Fang Mo snapped his fingers in the very next second.

Abruptly, that suffocating aura vanished.

“…Whew.”

The group collectively breathed a sigh of relief, then looked up curiously.

Right beside Fang Mo stood a man in white robes. He had brown hair, wore a faint smile, but exuded a powerful aura of intimidation. Obviously, it was Aizen Sōsuke. He glanced around in mild surprise.

“Hm… Is this the World of the Living? No, I don’t sense reishi. Their souls seem unusual. So this must be a world unfamiliar to me?”

“Tsk tsk, back to your old classy self again, huh?”

Fang Mo poured himself some tea and took a sip. “How was prison? Enjoy reflecting on your sins?”

Aizen smiled faintly. “I’ve had time to think a lot of things through. If reflecting on past foolishness is part of growing, then I suppose I’ve grown—though perhaps I’m still far from your level.”

“Reflecting on my own cringe teenage years is painful enough,” Fang Mo said, sipping his tea unconcernedly. Then he put the cup down. “Anyway—welcome to my world…buddy.”

“Your world?”

Aizen studied his surroundings. “I always suspected you weren’t actually from the world I knew. So, releasing me now—what do you want?”

“Honestly, nothing much,” Fang Mo said, scratching his chin. “I was bored keeping you locked up. I’m offering you a deal.”

“A deal?”

Aizen repeated with interest.

“As you can see, I have a method to travel between different worlds.”

Fang Mo gestured around at the others:

“They’re just like you—travelers from worlds not my own. Some are weaker, some are strong enough to beat you senseless. But that’s beside the point. The point is, all of them eventually became my bros. So here’s what I want to ask you:”

“Do you… want to be my friend?”

“Heh. Interesting.”

Aizen smiled. “But what does that have to do with your ‘deal?’”

“You have three choices,” Fang Mo said, holding up three fingers:

1. “I can give you your own separate world. You always wanted to become the Spirit King, stand atop the heavens, right? Well, in that world, you’d reign as the absolute ruler.

2. You can stay here in my main world and learn to ‘live normally.’ Then maybe I’ll take you on a tour of other worlds one day.

3. Or you can go right back to prison as my personal spiritual-pressure battery.”

“Another world, you say?”

Aizen’s smile deepened. “I see. So even beyond that world, there are still broader horizons.”

“So which do you pick?” Fang Mo asked.

“A narrow-minded man stays where he is,” Aizen replied. “I’ll accept your second proposal.”

“Great. Deal’s done.”

Fang Mo nodded, then lifted one hand. “Since we’re all bros now…buddy…why don’t you lend me Kyōka Suigetsu for a bit?”

“What?”

Aizen blinked.

“You don’t really need that weapon yourself, right? Let me copy it or something.”

Sure enough, Fang Mo’s mischievous side came out the moment they’d struck a deal:

“The ladies in my ‘sword squad’ keep nagging me that eight weapons isn’t enough. When they try to play mahjong, there’s nobody to bring them drinks. They want me to forge another one…”

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