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I'm Natsukawa Tora, and as you can see, a transmigrator. Like so many before me, I was delivered to another world courtesy of a truck one fine sunny day.
By the usual script, after dying I should meet some grandpa-shaped god, get a few cheat skills, then head off to the other world for an unstoppable rampage—or, at the behest of a pretty goddess, shoulder the hero's burden and fight the Demon King to save the world. At worst, I'd start a second life amid the merry laughter of a deity saying, "Oops, I accidentally killed you—let me make it up to you."
Natsukawa Tora once fantasized about that, yet in reality he'd become a proud... wage slave.
Location: a convenience store at a Fuyuki City gas station. Position: cashier. Hourly wage: ¥1,200; five hours a day, two days off a week.
A perfectly normal job. Fuyuki's cost of living is low, so it's more than enough for one person. Add in a reasonable manager who doesn't mind "expired" goods being "internally processed," and Tora saves a tidy sum.
Who told Tora to play the part of a "country boy living alone while attending school in Fuyuki"? The original body's identity really saved his neck.
Trouble came, of course.
Though the original body could speak Japanese, from Tora's point of view it was: "Brain: I got it, you got it? Mouth: Nope." He knew what to say, but the moment he opened his mouth it came out wrong. Add in the damage from past-life entertainment media and mishearing lyrics... Once he nearly got fired for clashing with a customer.
Of course, that's all history. Half a year has passed since he arrived; Tora now speaks fluent Japanese—thanks to the original owner's foundation.
Aside from these hiccups, life was calm, so calm that Tora—longing for the unbeatable, good-for-nothing, or marriage-rejection tropes—thought he'd have to walk the path of a copy-paste plagiarist. It's only 1994; technically doable, if only his brain had more stock.
Alas, that peace was shattered two weeks ago.
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Clocking out on the dot and carrying a bag of dinner, Natsukawa Tora returned to his apartment—a cheap singles unit, ¥10,000 a month.
Before he could fish out his key, the door opened by itself and someone appeared: "Welcome home, Master. Hard day at work?"
In the doorway stood a man literally shining—*literally*.
Hair the color of the sun, a smile as soft and radiant as morning light. Even in plain black trousers and a red shirt, his walking-air-conditioner aura (Tora's words) didn't dim one bit.
At the greeting, Tora slapped a hand over the man's mouth, shoved him inside, glanced left and right, then locked the door.
"How many times have I told you, Arthur—no noise, no standing outside, and if you must go out, go spiritual! If the landlord finds out someone else is living here, I'm toast!"
"Ah... sorry, Master. I sensed your presence and couldn't help rushing to greet you."
"As long as you get it."
Tora sagged, set the bag on the little table and watched bread rolls and milk cartons tumble out. Arthur frowned. "This is your dinner? Master, forgive me, but for a growing young man this is a bit—"
"Try remembering who's the one who emptied my savings."
Tora fumed at the memory.
The man before him is Arthur—Arthur Pendragon—the Servant Tora summoned two weeks ago, the King of Knights from another world.
Year 1994, Fuyuki City, Servant summoning.
Put those keywords together and if Tora still didn't know where he was, his veteran Type-Moon fan eyes would be wasted.
The Fourth Holy Grail War.
Given the choice, he'd rather be in the Fifth War—sticking with Shirou Emiya isn't absolutely safe, but your odds of survival are better, and you might even mooch meals at the Emiya house and qualify to become a Heroic Spirit yourself.
But the Fourth War... compared to the Fifth, the Fourth is literally a battle of gods and demons!
On the Servant side we've got: the world's oldest hero king who works his subjects to death, the Conqueror who can summon a million men and turn a duel into a true melee, and the quilt-wearing King who specializes in chopping up Holy Grails—these three kings are household names. Add to them the Hundred-Face gymnastics troupe, the country-girl cheer-captain, the blackened over-the-top fanatic, and the Luck-E who studied under the Spartans.
Although by the time Natsukawa Tora arrived here they'd all become gag characters in the fandom, on paper they're still ceiling-level—or just one step below—absolute monsters.
Then look at the Masters.
The world's scapegoat, Tokiomi Tohsaka, looked pathetic in action, but strictly speaking his magecraft is nothing to scoff at—second among the Masters. In a straight Master-vs-Master fight only two people could beat him for sure—assuming he doesn't choke at the critical moment, that is.
Next comes Fourth War's runner-up in misfortune, Department Head Kayneth: top mage of the war, formidable in live combat, arrogant enough to claim he can crush the Three Founding Families that created the Holy Grail War through sheer talent—and his ability absolutely backs that arrogance. Sadly he's too suspicious and has lousy compatibility with his Servant.
Then there's our Champion of Justice, Kiritsugu Emiya. In terms of danger level he's number one among the Fourth War Masters—RPGs, C4, Calico SMGs, Walther sniper rifles; he strikes with ruthless decisiveness, as if suffering from chronic 'not-enough-firepower' syndrome. Given the chance, Tora wouldn't put it past him to pull out a surface-to-air missile.
As for Origin Bullets... while they're anti-magus, even a non-magus hit by a sniper rifle is going to lose at least half a life—at least that's how it is for Natsukawa Tora.
The remaining four households.
The "princess" at this point is just the Conqueror's leg-ornament. Serial-killer Ryuunosuke Uryuu is already on the news; Tora plans to drag Arthur over to off him later. The war's unluckiest man, Kariya Matou, can be left alone—he only has eyes for Tokiomi Tohsaka anyway.
*(Problem is... I've stolen the Saber slot, so I wonder if the Magus Killer will still summon Artoria.)*
If the lineup stays the same as the original, then with a time-traveler's foreknowledge Tora figures he can scrape by as long as he keeps his head down. He has no intention of fighting seriously—he can't use magecraft and can't scheme; if he really tried he'd end up huddling for warmth with the princess. Surviving to the end equals victory.
But if stealing Saber means Kiritsugu Emiya can't summon her... his living environment actually gets harsher.
Because that would leave Kiritsugu with only Caster, and what that implies—put it this way: give Kiritsugu either Caster or Assassin in the Fourth War and, unless Tokiomi Tohsaka has a bright idea and lets Gilgamesh off the leash, or uses a Command Seal to make him go serious and wipe everyone in one night, every single Master is guaranteed to die.
At the thought, the bread in Tora's hand lost its taste. Other people land in the Type-Moon universe and take off instantly, winning the Fourth War as easily as breathing—blow up the Matou house, kill the old worm, recruit Artoria, train young Rin and Sakura—all in one smooth combo. How come it went sour for him?
"Master?" Arthur's voice pulled Natsukawa Tora out of his brooding.
"What?"
"Nothing. You weren't eating, so... are you worried about the Holy Grail War?"
Tora nodded.
Setting down his bread and milk, Arthur placed a hand over his heart. "Rest assured, Master. No matter whom we face in this war, I swear by the name of King Arthur and the holy sword in my hand: I shall bring you victory."
"Of course I believe you, but believing and worrying are two different things. I still have to consider every scenario." Tora sighed. "Whatever. Don't know when the war starts, so I'd better prepare—Arthur, where's my bread?"
Having finished one, Tora reached for another—only to find the bag empty—and turned to Arthur.
Sure enough, several crumpled bread bags sat in front of Arthur.
"Apologies, Master. Unable to receive mana from you, I must eat, and bread converts into so little mana that..."
*(Inhale)*
Let it be restated: after summoning Arthur, Tora was furious—he literally can't afford to feed the bottomless stomach of the King of Knights!
"Well excuse me for being unable to supply you mana!!!"
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