Chapter 271: Amakusa: I Want to Curse Someone...
"Seriously, Shinji... this has to be one of your wildest ideas yet."
EMIYA let out a small sigh, one hand on the camera as he peered through the viewfinder. He had been dragged to the set this morning to act as the cameraman, and what he saw made his eye twitch.
On the monitor, the ground seemed to burn with strange, flame-like currents. Wisps of faint, purplish smoke drifted lazily through the air, giving the scene an eerie, surreal beauty.
But when he looked at the set with his own eyes... nothing. Everything looked completely normal—just the usual props and backdrops.
"You actually used a boundary field as a filter?" EMIYA muttered. "Should I call you a genius or a maniac?"
Originally, he'd planned to take the day off. After treating a certain group to a gourmet feast yesterday, he'd been looking forward to finally sleeping in. But no—Shinji had yanked him out of bed at the crack of dawn and hauled him over to the set.
EMIYA was not happy.
Shinji had this infuriating habit of treating people like Servants, and Servants like livestock. And EMIYA had had enough of that kind of treatment back in the Throne of Heroes, where jobs came one after another with no sense of time or rest. It was like being stuck in a never-ending corporate nightmare with no weekends—pure 007 hell.
Now that he'd finally been summoned into the modern world, he'd hoped to kick back, relax, and maybe even catch up on some well-deserved R&R. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.
Unlike other Servants who only had to act on-screen and got to rest the rest of the time, EMIYA's crimson wardrobe had earned him a special curse—being constantly mistaken for a certain overly enthusiastic musclehead. And so, just like that man, he'd been branded the cook of the group.
Still... looking at the way the set was arranged today, EMIYA had to begrudgingly admit—this particular shot really could only be captured by him.
Thanks to Touko and Medea's upgraded camera—capable of recording magical energy—Shinji had gone completely off the rails with his magic usage.
Before the scene began filming, Shinji had set up what he called a "high-tech filter" all over the set. Of course, the "filter" was just a cover story—an excuse in case any normal bystanders noticed discrepancies between the camera footage and the real world.
In truth, the camera was capturing something regular human eyes couldn't see—mana.
It had a bit of a horror-story vibe, like something out of a ghost tale. But instead of spirits, what the camera recorded was the ambient magical energy flowing through the set.
Shinji had saturated the area with mana by laying down a carefully-designed boundary field. The effect was stunning—visually rich and otherworldly—without altering the physical props too much or making the location feel unscientific.
That said... there was one small problem.
Environments dense with mana weren't exactly healthy for humans. The field didn't pose any real danger to life—Shinji wasn't that reckless—but it could still cause discomfort.
Normal people might just feel a little tired or unwell, but anyone sensitive to magic—like magus or spiritualists—would feel an oppressive weight, a cloying sweetness in the air, kind of like how Shirou felt Rider's boundary field back in Fate/Stay Night.
Still, Shinji had done a solid job. The mana levels wouldn't kill anyone, but the unease it caused could definitely mess with morale and focus.
And that's where EMIYA came in.
When you needed delicate technical work done in this kind of magically unstable environment, calling in a Servant was the best option. Unfortunately for EMIYA, he also happened to be the best cameraman among the Servants.
'I guess Shinji really does trust my skills…' he mused, feeling a tiny spark of pride.
Then he froze.
'...Wait, why the hell am I complimenting him?!'
He clenched his fist in frustration.
'I was supposed to be resting today! That bastard dragged me out here against my will!'
EMIYA let out an irritated snort. "Once this shoot's over, I'm definitely having a long talk with Shinji…"
He just couldn't let it go—being treated like a beast of burden on a never-ending production line.
Cooking for a bunch of gluttons back at the Matou house was one thing. But even on set, EMIYA couldn't catch a break.
Before filming, he was stuck projecting all sorts of props and set pieces. During filming, he had to lug around a ridiculously heavy camera, darting across the scene to find the perfect angles for Shinji's "vision."
'Tch... is this brat getting back at me for something?'
He muttered to himself as he adjusted the tripod. "But I don't remember ever crossing him when I was alive..."
With a long, weary sigh, EMIYA prayed that at least he wouldn't be roped into post-production too.
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Unaware that his No.1 cinematographer Servant was secretly plotting his revenge, Shinji was currently walking the set with Shirou, running a final check on the scenery and props.
"Shinji, why'd you pick this scene to start off the final shoot?" Shirou asked, eyeing the set which had been dressed up like a post-apocalyptic ruin.
"Going straight into the main course like this... doesn't it feel a bit rushed? Wouldn't it be better to ease into it with a couple of warm-up shots?"
He might not be a veteran actor, but after filming so many scenes, Shirou had learned a thing or two about pacing. Starting with such an emotionally intense scene—especially the ideological clash between Amakusa and Jeanne—seemed risky to him.
If either actor wasn't in the right headspace, they could flub their lines repeatedly, and the whole shoot would be thrown into chaos.
Especially since this wasn't just about external acting. The camera would also be capturing subtle shifts in their emotions—the internal performance that truly brought characters to life.
"That's exactly why we're starting here," Shinji replied, glancing over at Amakusa, who was in the middle of getting his makeup done.
"No matter how much prep they do, they're going to mess up at first. So why not get the most important scene out of the way right at the beginning?"
"With a powerful opening like this, they'll be forced to dive into character right away."
Shirou scratched his head, ruffling his already messy red hair. "I mean... that kinda makes sense. But what if Amakusa and Jeanne keep messing up? What then?"
"That's up to them," Shinji said with a smirk that was equal parts charming and ominous. "If they want to carry the title of Ruler, they better have the mental fortitude to match. I'll make sure they find their groove."
There was a distinct gleam in Shinji's eye—like a chef sharpening his knives before preparing a feast.
Shirou, well acquainted with his childhood friend's twisted sense of fun, instinctively offered a silent prayer for Amakusa and Jeanne.
Of course, Shinji wasn't the kind of director who enjoyed tormenting actors by forcing endless retakes just to establish dominance.
Especially not when the actors were his own Servants. He had no intention of turning his authority as their Master into some petty power trip. That sort of thing was unnecessary—and honestly, kind of pathetic.
If they could deliver a great performance and nail the shot on the first take? Perfect. Shinji would be more than happy.
But reality rarely lined up with expectations.
Or, in more poetic terms: In dreams, she's a dazzling beauty. In the morning light, just another plain Jane.
In less poetic terms? Dreams are soft. Reality is solid, hard bone.
Shinji was hoping that Amakusa and Jeanne would rise to the occasion and knock the most critical scene out of the park in just a few takes.
As for what actually happened...
You could tell exactly how the shoot was going just by listening to the endless chain of shouts:
"Cut!"
"Cut!"
"Cut!"
—and more "Cut!"
Clearly, Amakusa and Jeanne were nowhere near in the right state of mind.
"Geez, was your prediction spot-on or what? Shirou, don't tell me you were a jinx in a past life?" Shinji glanced sideways at him with a dramatic sigh.
Shirou just shrugged, completely innocent. "What? How is this my fault?"
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To be fair, Amakusa and Jeanne were both well aware they were off their game today.
They didn't know Shinji's camera was sensitive enough to record emotions as part of the footage, but after enough reminders from him, they had at least tried to study the script more carefully.
But standing in front of the camera, acting under the lights and pressure, was a whole different story.
They couldn't quite grasp the heart of their characters.
And that was strange. By now, after filming more than half the movie, they should've been fully locked into their roles.
The problem? Shinji's expectations for this scene were sky-high.
He didn't just want them to play their characters. He wanted them to become their characters—inside and out.
That kind of demand was on a whole different level.
Even Amakusa himself was dissatisfied with his performance.
He was supposed to portray a saintly messiah, selfless and noble, determined to save humanity at all costs. He should have shown calm superiority, even disdain, toward Jeanne for standing in his way.
But no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't bring that righteous fervor to the surface. His resolve felt half-hearted. His hostility toward Jeanne was too soft. Emotionally, he was stuck in limbo.
So when Shinji ordered retake after retake... Amakusa had no real complaints. Deep down, he knew he wasn't hitting the mark.
Still, after more than twenty takes, even Amakusa's saintly patience began to crack.
"Amakusa, over here!"
Shinji had noticed his frustration and, after whispering a few quick instructions to Jeanne, motioned for Amakusa to come over.
Oddly enough, he didn't give any new acting directions. Instead, he led Amakusa to the center of the magic circle embedded in the set.
"Okay. Forget everything else. Just close your eyes and focus. When I say action, open them and look straight at Jeanne. That's it."
"...Huh?"
He had no idea what his Master was planning, but being the ever-obedient Servant, Amakusa chose to comply.
He took his place at the center of the set, calmly closed his eyes, and began to steady his breathing.
All around them, the staff and Servants had gone quiet per Shinji's request. Even the ever-talkative Lancer had shut up for once.
Slowly, Amakusa felt his restless mind begin to settle. The noise in his head quieted.
Then—
Clack
Clack
Clack
Jeanne's armored boots echoed on the stone-like flooring as she walked forward, just as the script instructed.
"You've come at last, Saint of France," Amakusa spoke his line with practiced grace.
Amakusa slowly opened his eyes. Then he saw a person with a red make up and a pair of "chest muscles" standing in front of him.
"I am the cute bunny Beast, here to save the world—nyaa~!" she squealed in a high-pitched voice, wiggling her arms like bunny ears.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT MONSTROSITY?!"
Caught completely off guard, Amakusa let out a panicked yelp and jumped back like he'd seen a demon.
His voice cracked embarrassingly in pitch.
But across from him, Shinji simply raised his thumb and grinned.
"Perfect! You're not stressed anymore, Amakusa!"
The words sounded like praise, but the smirk behind them made it clear Shinji was messing with him.
Amakusa opened his mouth, trembling with rage.
"MASTER!! I swear, I'm gonna—shi ba ge ya roooou!!"
And so, with a furious cry made up of Chinese, Japanese, and weirdly accented English, Amakusa finally exploded in a fit of righteous indignation.
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Tn: What Amakusa saw is Beast IV:L, or also known as Tamamo Vitch Koyanskaya, Beast of Comparison
This is what it looks like:
https://i.pinimg.com/736x/7c/8b/64/7c8b643954320d4bf0e3da866a58f0d0.jpg
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