Type-Moon, But I Summon Tom

As for Ryōnosuke...

Killing him was out of the question. Minamoto had never killed anything in his life, aside from accidentally stepping on an ant trail. He hadn't even slaughtered a chicken, let alone taken a human life.

As for Tom? That was a joke! Comedic characters couldn't kill anyone!

"Ah, I've got it. Tom, pack him up. We need to find a place to dump him."

Calling the police wasn't an option either. Minamoto remembered clearly from the original story that Ryōnosuke's methods were extremely sophisticated. No one had ever suspected him, and he wasn't even listed as a suspect. Reporting him to the police would only be letting the tiger return to the mountains.

So, the best solution was to find a remote place to dump him or throw him into the Fuyuki River.

Hearing Minamoto's new request, Tom nodded vigorously, so hard that Minamoto worried he might shake his brain into mush.

Then, Tom reached behind his back and pulled out a bag roughly the same size as himself from his rear end, ready to stuff Ryōnosuke into it.

For Tom, this was his chance to impress his new master. He couldn't—at least not now—reveal his lazy nature. He needed to show Minamoto that he was a capable, champion cat!

Just as Tom was about to stuff Ryōnosuke into the bag, which was barely big enough for a chicken, Minamoto suddenly remembered something and quickly stopped him. "Wait!"

Minamoto hurried over to Ryōnosuke, struggling to loosen the ropes binding him. He reached into Ryōnosuke's pocket and pulled out a wallet.

As the saying goes, money isn't everything, but without it, you're nothing. Minamoto urgently needed some startup funds, and taking them from this murderer was the best option—convenient and guilt-free.

"Tom, you can continue now."

After hearing Minamoto's permission, Tom went back to work, effortlessly stuffing Ryōnosuke into the bag, which was only about the size of Tom himself.

The most astonishing part was that after Ryōnosuke was stuffed inside, the bag still seemed to have plenty of room, making it look loose and floppy, almost like a four-dimensional pocket.

This way, when they left the house, it wouldn't attract any attention.

Once Tom had Ryōnosuke securely in the bag, he pulled out a piece of string from who-knows-where and tied the bag shut. He then tried to sling it over his shoulder.

But perhaps he swung it too hard, because Tom ended up flinging himself to the ground.

Watching this comical scene, Minamoto almost burst out laughing. "...Maybe I should carry it?"

Feeling that Minamoto might be underestimating him, Tom didn't want to be looked down upon by his new master right from the start. The thought of Minamoto replacing him with some mechanical cat was terrifying.

So, with a serious expression, Tom firmly extended his hand toward Minamoto, rejecting the offer.

Tom rolled up his sleeves (somehow, despite being a cat) and spat on his hands for grip. He then grabbed the bag, lifted it with a mighty heave, and slung it over his shoulder.

With a confident look, Tom turned to Minamoto, clearly waiting for praise.

Minamoto, still processing how Tom had managed to roll up his fur like sleeves, finally snapped out of his thoughts and gave a half-hearted compliment. "As expected of Tom. I'll treat you to something delicious later."

Hearing the promise of food, Tom's eyes literally sparkled with excitement. His motivation skyrocketed, and his eyes began flashing like a slot machine, eventually landing on an image of a giant chicken drumstick.

"Let's go."

And so, the man and the cat walked side by side out of the house.

However... just as Minamoto casually closed the door behind him, he remembered that Tom was still beside him.

But it was too late. The moment the door shut, it neatly caught Tom's tail. Tom froze in place, his face rapidly turning red from the bottom up.

"Ah, Tom, are you oka—"

Before Minamoto could finish, Tom launched himself a meter into the air, his limbs and tail stiffening as he let out an ear-piercing scream!

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"

The sound was so loud it could rival the scream of a Stuka dive bomber. Minamoto was startled, his ears nearly deafened by the noise.

Covering his ears, Minamoto quickly tried to calm Tom down. "Calm down, Tom! Calm down!"

Finally, after about five seconds, the screaming stopped.

Once back on the ground, Tom immediately grabbed his tail. But as soon as he lifted it, the tail flopped over in the middle.

Tom could only stare at his broken tail in sorrow.

In a dimly lit basement, two men were setting up something.

The lighting was so poor that it was hard to tell what they were doing at first glance. But with the faint glow of the candles, one could barely make out a silver-white magic circle on the floor, resembling some kind of cult ritual.

If you added some sacrificial items, like heads or organs, it would look exactly like a scene from a horror movie.

"Everything for the summoning ritual is ready, Kirei," said one of the men, a refined gentleman named Tokiomi, as he stepped up to the magic circle.

Seeing that Tokiomi was ready to begin the summoning, the other man, Kirei, took a few steps back.

"Finally, the moment has arrived. The Holy Relic is also prepared," Tokiomi said, smiling as he gently touched the Command Seals on the back of his right hand. "The timing is perfect."

He had waited so long for this day. With this most precious Holy Relic, he would summon the King of Heroes, Gilgamesh. Once that was done, winning the Holy Grail War would be a certainty, and reaching the Root would no longer be an impossible dream.

This summoning was foolproof—that was his assessment.

Tokiomi calmly extended his right hand toward the silver-white magic circle, placing his left hand on his right arm as he began the incantation.

"Let silver and steel be the essence."

"Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation."

"Let my great master, Schweinorg, be the ancestor."

"A wall of wind shall rise, sealing the gates from all directions."

"From the crown, emerge and follow the forked road to the kingdom."

"Declare—"

A pure white light began to emanate from every line of the magic circle. At the same time, the Command Seals on Tokiomi's right hand glowed faintly.

"Let thy body rest under my command, thy fate tied to my sword."

"Answer the call of the Holy Grail. If thou wouldst heed this will and this reason, then answer me."

"Here I swear."

"I shall accomplish all deeds of righteousness, I shall destroy all evils of this world."

"Thou who art clad in the great Trinity, come forth from the circle of restraint, guardian of the scales!"

The white light suddenly intensified, engulfing the entire basement. The two men had to squint, unable to see clearly.

But the light faded as quickly as it had appeared, vanishing in just a few seconds.

In the center of the magic circle stood a slender figure.

"Servant Saber, answering your summons," said a golden-haired, blue-eyed girl clad in silver-white armor, addressing Tokiomi. "I ask of you, are you my Master?"

"..." Tokiomi stared at the girl in silence for a long time.

No matter how he looked at her, she had absolutely no connection to the King of Heroes, Gilgamesh.

He immediately checked his right hand. The Command Seals were indeed there, meaning this Servant was the one he had summoned.

Tokiomi walked over to the small altar where the Holy Relic was placed and picked up the small box. Opening it, he confirmed that it was indeed the shed skin of the world's oldest snake—the Holy Relic he had prepared. It hadn't been swapped out.

Looking back at the confused Saber and then at the snake skin in his hand, Tokiomi felt a wave of despair. "Did I... buy a fake?"

The same scene was playing out elsewhere.

In a castle in Germany, a man in a black trench coat had just completed his summoning.

As the blinding light from the magic circle faded, a white-haired man appeared before him, holding something resembling a staff.

"Kiritsugu, is this... King Arthur?" Irisviel, standing behind Kiritsugu, looked at the white-haired man in the magic circle and asked uncertainly.

No matter how she looked at him, she couldn't connect the man holding a staff to the legendary King Arthur, Artoria Pendragon.

Before Kiritsugu could respond, the white-haired man spoke first. "Of course, I'm not King Arthur."

"Then who are you?" Kiritsugu asked. "Introduce yourself."

"I am Merlin, the Flower Mage, and the one who served as King Arthur's advisor. You can just call me Merlin," the man said, tapping his staff on the ground. A circle of glowing flowers bloomed at his feet.

"Did the summoning go wrong? I ended up summoning King Arthur's court mage instead," Kiritsugu muttered, taking a drag from his cigarette. He tried to look on the bright side. "But it's fine. As long as he can fight."

"Haha, Master, you sure have a sense of humor," Merlin said, scratching the back of his head with his left hand.

Then, with complete confidence, he added, "To be perfectly honest, I'm only good at running away and staying alive. When it comes to fighting, I'm completely useless!"

"...Kiritsugu, can we... return this Servant?" Irisviel whispered into Kiritsugu's ear, her voice filled with disbelief.

Back in Fuyuki, night had fallen.

Minamoto and Tom had finally found a temporary base—a place to stay. If they wanted to sound fancy, they could call it a magical workshop.

It was a small house that hadn't been lived in for at least 20 years. Just peeking through the windows gave off a creepy vibe, making one wonder if it was haunted.

But Minamoto wasn't too bothered. He had worked part-time at a haunted house before, so his nerves were pretty strong.

And even if he got scared, he had Tom to take the hits for him, right?

Originally, Minamoto had planned to break a window to get in, but then he remembered that Tom could probably squeeze through the door crack. Sure, he'd turn into a flat cat for a moment, but he'd pop back to normal after a scene change.

However... when Tom heard this request, he immediately turned into a ball of fear.

"Hey... Tom, why are you hugging my leg?" Minamoto looked down at Tom, who was clinging to his calf with all four limbs and his tail. He tried to pull Tom off, but it was no use.

No matter how hard Minamoto tried to detach Tom, the cat's limbs had turned as soft as octopus tentacles, wrapping around Minamoto's leg like ropes.

In fact, Tom's entire body was shaking so violently that, if Minamoto ignored the fact that Tom was a living creature, he might have thought he had a massager strapped to his leg.

Compared to the fearless Tom who had taken down Ryōnosuke, who was much larger than him, this was like a completely different cat.

Seeing that force wasn't working, Minamoto decided to try a softer approach.

"It's okay, trust me. You just need to go in and open the door," Minamoto said, gently patting Tom's head to calm the terrified cat.

"Once you're inside, just unlock the door. Don't be scared. And even if there's a ghost, you'll be fine... probably?"

At first, Tom seemed to calm down a bit after hearing Minamoto's words. His grip on Minamoto's leg loosened slightly. But before he could fully relax, Minamoto's uncertain tone sent Tom's anxiety skyrocketing again.

Tom's fur literally turned white from fear—like someone had dumped a bucket of white paint on him.

After a few seconds, Tom's color returned to normal, and he began shaking his head furiously at Minamoto, creating a small breeze.

"Fine then. I was planning to use the money we saved on rent to buy you cake and milk. What a shame," Minamoto said, pretending to walk away slowly to give Tom time to reconsider.

Of course, this was just a bluff. Minamoto was a black-market resident—there was no way he could rent a place. And even if he had the proper documents, he still couldn't afford it. The money in Ryōnosuke's wallet was pitifully small.

Maybe Ryōnosuke had more money stashed somewhere else, but that was irrelevant. Since Minamoto didn't know how to deal with Ryōnosuke—killing him was out of the question, and letting him go would be releasing a tiger back into the wild—he had no choice but to let Tom carry him around. Strangely, though, at some point, Ryōnosuke had disappeared from the bag. But when Minamoto asked Tom, the cat could still pull him out, as if the bag were a four-dimensional space.

Minamoto was taking advantage of Tom's lack of common sense. If Tom really refused to budge, Minamoto would have to break a window. He was determined to stay in this house.

Tom, however, couldn't sit still. The thought of losing out on food that was almost within his grasp was unbearable.

The difference between one meal and a lifetime of hunger was something Tom understood all too well.

Once Tom realized this, he immediately let go of Minamoto's leg, his eyes sharpening with determination. He was ready to squeeze through the door and unlock it!

Feeling the relief in his previously numb leg, Minamoto knew his reverse psychology had worked. He turned to see Tom decked out in "armor" he had somehow pulled out of nowhere.

Tom wore a small pot on his head as a helmet, held a trash can lid as a shield in his left hand, and wielded a frying pan as a weapon in his right.

With a brave and confident stride, Tom marched toward the door. However, the closer he got, the more his courage seemed to shrink, and his steps grew less assured.

At the door, Tom took a deep breath and squeezed his upper body through the crack. His lower half wriggled outside, trying to push the rest of himself through. Soon, his entire body was inside.

Once inside, Tom immediately began scanning the room. Cobwebs hung everywhere, giving the place a sinister, haunted feel. But there didn't seem to be any ghosts around.

Just as Tom was about to relax and turn back to unlock the door, he caught a glimpse of a floating white figure at the end of the hallway, its eyes glowing with an eerie red light.

If Tom could speak Chinese, he would have screamed, "Holy crap, it's a ghost!"

"YAAAAAH!!!" After a moment of stunned silence, Tom dropped his gear, leaped into the air, and used his claws to cling to the ceiling, trembling in fear.

The ghost, upon seeing Tom, didn't hesitate. It began floating toward him, ready to attack.

But before it could make a move, a girl with medium-length hair, wearing a blue kimono and a red coat, appeared behind it. With a flash of her blade, the ghost was sliced in two, dissolving into spiritual particles and vanishing from the world.