157: Chapter 157 The Truth and... The Mysterious Phone Call

This sudden probe and reversal was like a thunderclap, instantly snapping the viewers in the livestream awake!

"Holy crap! Saber Alter's intuition is so sharp!"

"So that sword strike just now was a probe! Brilliant!"

"I was wondering why this old man was talking so much nonsense; it turns out he was faking his amnesia! He must be the mastermind behind this Singularity, preparing to backstab us!"

Faced with Saber Alter's razor-sharp questioning, the Archer of Shinjuku fell silent.

The composed smile on his face gradually faded, replaced by a faint bitterness and helplessness.

"Sigh..."

The old man let out a long sigh, as if shedding some heavy disguise.

"As expected of the King of Knights. Even when tainted by magical energy, that intuition for seeing through people's hearts is still astounding."

The old man shook his head with a bitter smile. "Since I've been seen through, there's no need to keep up the pretense."

"You guessed correctly. I did lie about the 'amnesia.' Because if I hadn't, there's no way you would have accepted me."

PD frowned deeply. "Who exactly are you? Why are you helping us?"

The old man looked up, a flash of complex self-deprecation in his eyes.

"The mastermind who rules Shinjuku, who used Phantasm fusion to create the Headless Wolf King, and who intends to drag this world into the abyss... he possesses a genius mind far beyond this era, along with an appalling talent for crime."

"But to realize that perfect, flawless plan for destruction, that mastermind believed that the sense of morality known as 'goodness' and 'compassion' in human nature was his greatest obstacle."

The old man took a deep breath, his voice becoming incredibly raspy. "So, he utilized the special laws of this Malignant Quarantined Demonic Realm to perform a frantic saint graph surgery."

"He forcibly cut out all the parts of his soul that belonged to 'good' and threw them out of his main body like discarded trash."

The old man pointed to his own chest. "And I am that severed, pure 'Good' half."

This shocking revelation made all the players in front of their screens gasp.

"Because the main body is 'Evil' through and through, my power as a byproduct is extremely weak, to the point where I don't even remember my [true name] on the Throne of Heroes. That part, at least, I didn't lie about."

The old man gripped his cane. "Right now, I have no name and no powerful Noble Phantasm. I am just a defective product who knows how dangerous he is but is powerless to stop him."

"The reason I hid my identity to approach you is that I know only by borrowing the power of Chaldea—only by relying on you—can we stop that 'Evil' main body and prevent this perfect crime that's about to destroy the entire Earth."

After hearing the old man's statement, the viewers in the livestream fell into a long state of shock.

"Cutting out your own goodness and throwing it away?! This mastermind is a ruthless character!"

"No wonder this old man looked so smart but kept slacking off; it turns out even his name was deleted by the main body!"

"We misunderstood the old man; he really is here to help us!"

Looking at the bitter-faced old man before him, PD finally understood the previous doubts about his 'nonsense' and 'slacking.'

In this Singularity full of villains, a defenseless pure goodness had no other way to survive and stop the main body's plot except through disguise and relying on Chaldea.

Thinking about the frustration he felt in the Roguelike mode when the dealer targeted him, PD felt a surge of empathetic sympathy for the old man's plight of being 'discarded as a defective product.'

"Alright, old man. It must not feel good to be thrown away like trash by your own main body. You can relax now."

PD stepped forward, dropping his previous defensiveness and disdain, his tone carrying a rare hint of seriousness and comfort.

"In our Chaldea, we never look at star ratings or stats. A one-star Great Hero can still block a strike from a god. So what if you don't have a name? As long as our goals are the same, then you're someone Chaldea protects."

He patted the old man's shoulder firmly, giving him a natural way out. "Let's go. We'll head back to the base first and discuss how to deal with that Headless Wolf King. There are gangs everywhere on these streets; standing here is too conspicuous."

...

Half an hour later, the three of them avoided the patrolling Mechanical Hounds and successfully returned to Saber Alter's secret safehouse hidden in an abandoned underground subway station.

Upon entering, Saber Alter acted as if she were back in her own territory, unceremoniously tossing her heavy sword into a corner and sinking comfortably into a leather sofa.

"Running all night has burned too many calories."

She crossed her long legs and tilted her chin at PD with an unquestionable tone. "Master, go buy me three orders of fried chicken and two large cups of cola. Make them iced."

Looking at this Saber Alter, who was cold and ruthless outside but turned into a foodie as soon as they hit the base, PD rolled his eyes helplessly and resignedly ran to the vending machine in the corner to act as an errand boy.

Just as PD walked back holding a pile of junk food.

"Ring ring ring— Ring ring ring—"

A sudden, sharp, and old-fashioned telephone ring echoed through the quiet subway station base!

PD was startled and turned to look.

On the coffee table in front of the sofa, a retro-style rotary phone, covered in dust, was actually vibrating eerily!

Saber Alter and the old man stood up warily at the same time.

"What's going on? The communication lines for this base are clearly physically cut. How could a call be coming in?" Saber Alter's brow furrowed.

Driven by curiosity, PD walked to the coffee table, slowly picked up the receiver, and put it to his ear.

"Hello? Who is this?"

From the other end of the line came a burst of static mixed with electromagnetic interference.

Then, a low, raspy male voice—sounding as if it came from the depths of hell, yet carrying a composed and pleasant tone—slowly spoke into PD's ear:

"Judging by that ragged breathing, it seems you've had quite a pathetic time exploring this lawless land, my Accomplice."

Hearing that voice and the signature 'Accomplice,' PD's pupils constricted sharply.

"Holy crap?! The Count!!!"

"It's the The Count of Monte Cristo!! Edmond Dantès!!!"

"My husband is here!!!"

The bullet chat in the livestream exploded instantly!

After all, the Count was already a top-tier Servant with explosive popularity, revered as the 'Type-Moon Boyfriend' by countless female fans. Adding to that the recent 'The Count of Monte Cristo Roguelike' that had put players through hell and back, it had maxed out his gameplay value, narrative prestige, and sentimental companionship!

So now, hearing this voice suddenly in this lawless land, everyone's DNA was stirred intensely.

On the other end of the line, the man calling himself 'Edmond Dantès' chuckled softly:

"Don't be nervous. Right now, I am merely a ghost wandering this Singularity, monitoring the undercurrents of this city at all times."

"Time is short; let's save the catching up for later. I'm calling to provide you with a critical piece of intelligence."

The man's voice suddenly became serious and cold:

"In a ruined district three kilometers away from you... a dark-skinned Archer known as 'Emiya'..."

"Is leading a large force of Shinjuku Gang members and modified monsters, pinning down another Servant there."