Chapter 10. "You're Still Not Dead Yet"
"The first floor is a casino... how impressive."
Someone snuck onto the empty red carpet and looked around. The vast interior space was still furnished with bright lights and reception facilities, but it was dead silent. He hesitated for a moment among the various amenities before choosing to spin the wheel of a roulette table.
"I saw this at Mr. Fem's casino last time, but I never got to touch it myself. I guess I've finally fulfilled that wish today."
"Fem?"
"Van Fem. He's the master of the Joyous Ship and one of the unique Twenty-Seven Ancestors... Hey, do you know the concept of a 'casino'?"
"It's likely the minimum knowledge granted to me by the Grail. Or perhaps my true identity is a gambler? Who knows?"
"That makes things easier!"
Flat clapped his hands together, his face beaming with joy: "Let me whisper a little trivia: that butler you met is actually a super-genius gambler who can win against that Ancestor whenever he wants. Although, I didn't specifically ask Luviagelita—the client—what prize she ultimately chose."
"...Huh?"
Jack was left completely dumbfounded by what he had just heard. Flat casually turned on a slot machine. The electricity-powered machine immediately sprang to life, the patterns on the screen cycling rapidly. Before the symbols could lock in, Flat flipped the switch off and walked straight toward the depths of the room, as if he had no intention of playing from the very beginning.
"Speaking of which... we still haven't seen them yet."
After a period of silence, Jack let out a low murmur, his emotions unreadable.
"I think the black fog is the medium for entering this place. Anyone swallowed by it should appear in this Fake Snowfield City. I did a bit of a check on myself; I couldn't feel my spirit being severed... In other words, it seems we were pulled in physically."
The Master spoke lightly: "Since that's the case, there will definitely be opportunities to meet the others who were dragged in."
Although he lacked emotional depth, Jack keenly perceived the underlying sentiment.
"Are you worried about them?"
"Yes. The butler who saved us—I want to help him. Of course, others like those in the Police Bureau, that new friend Sigma, and the kind Assassin—I hope they're all safe. I'm even worried about whether Miss Saber was dragged into this.
But if they were truly 'safe,' they wouldn't have appeared in Fake Snowfield City. And right now, I can't judge whether not appearing here is a good thing or a bad thing, so I'll reserve my opinion for now."
Flat added, using his somewhat convoluted way of speaking. He pressed the elevator button. A ring of question marks appeared around the Jack-watch: "Are you planning to—?"
"Go to the top floor and take a look."
Flat replied, then smiled. "[The highest point on the map] is the most likely place to find clues. Even if it's just for the sake of looking with my own eyes, the logic holds."
The elevator reached the top floor. Flat crept into the hallway for some unknown reason, then pushed open the door to the only suite.
What they saw was a rather strange room. Flat was certainly on the top floor of the hotel, but this room didn't look like a simple accommodation facility. In Flat's understanding, it resembled a magus's workshop, yet it was cluttered with overly extravagant decor. It was as if two people with clashing tastes had fought, and the luxurious one had won.
"..."
A bead of sweat trickled down Flat's forehead. He felt a faint chill creeping in from somewhere. This should have been the most modern, top-tier suite, yet it was now filled with the most precious antiques of ancient times. Although Flat had only intended to borrow the vantage point, he couldn't help but wonder... had he hit the jackpot?
The chill grew a little stronger. The room felt stuffy, and a second bead of sweat appeared. The collection, full of antique tastes but radiating a brand-new luster, was dazzling. The owner must be a luxurious person with artistic taste, right? It was strange—even though he tried his best to appreciate it, Flat felt an inexplicable, prickly sensation of being constantly glared at.
His feet were itching to run, but his eyes were locked on certain artifacts. Flat seemed to have seen them mentioned in his professor's lectures. Wait, are these treasures in the Mesopotamian style?
Someone related to Mesopotamia...
Flat's limbs sent him stiff signals, and his sweat output reached an unlimited supply. He seemed to know who this person was. Moreover, Flat carefully recalled the situation from last night... He, if the current version is correct, he shouldn't be dead yet, right? This time, Flat's version arrived early!
"Oh no! Mr. Jack, we've triggered a trap room! Run! Jump out the window! Hurry, hurry!!"
For the first time, Flat showed a panicked, "I've messed up" expression. At the same time, a terrifying pressure erupted from the "outside," like water seeping through a plastic bag. Remembering that Mr. Jack was a watch, Flat took three steps in two and dove through the glass, jumping out.
Before leaving, he didn't forget to look back and wave: "No offense meant, bad luck be gone!"
This super-dangerous trap floor continued to rise into the air. After it moved far away, the wind whipped against his cheeks. Facing the ground, which would surely turn him into a puddle of meat upon landing, Flat yelled with absolute trust:
"Mr. Jack, please turn into an eagle! A giant eagle!"
"...How did you know I could even turn into an eagle? I hadn't even discovered that myself..."
A creature streaked across the sky of Snowfield City. In appearance, it was a giant eagle with scalpel-like talons, gliding with wings outstretched, its Master riding on its back.
"Heh heh, a killer eagle fused with scalpel elements will definitely have an audience! In horror games! If that's the case, it's not strange that someone believes Mr. Jack is a scalpel-eagle!"
"I'm amazed that someone can be on the same frequency as you..."
The giant eagle soared over the "inner" Snowfield City; nothing hindered its progress. The trap room at the "highest point on the map" gradually drifted further away. The panorama of the vast city model was laid out before them. Riding on its back, Flat blossomed into a joyful, innocent smile when he caught sight of a scene in the distance:
"I see the butler!"
He reached out one hand enthusiastically, as if to give a high-five. Jack looked at his gliding left wing, then at his gliding right wing... Finally, he chose to generate a small rabbit, tossed it over to high-five Flat, and then ignored the rabbit, letting it fall freely to the ground until it died from the impact.
'Perhaps my true identity is a magician in the secular sense' Jack thought.
"Wait a moment... Okay, the message has been sent to the butler."
Flat said something mysterious and profound: "If the butler is on the field, 'carrying' (outputting) is something we'll never be able to snatch from him. From now on, let's be his well-behaved support!"
'I am super self-aware!'
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