— — — — — —
Half an hour later, inside the Tohsaka estate.
Kaito paced through the mansion, carefully inspecting the place. His brows furrowed as pure disdain colored his face. Then, in Robert Downey Jr.'s unmistakable voice, he started firing off unfiltered commentary in flawless English, mocking the house as old, outdated, and reeking of decay.
"A place like this," he said, "could only be appreciated by some backward magus with zero ambition."
Not a shred of mercy. Not a single ounce of respect left for Tokiomi Tohsaka himself, whose face darkened instantly.
Why Robert Downey Jr.'s voice? Simple. "Iron Man Tokiomi" spoke perfect New York English, and it fit too well. Different regions, different dubs. This one's authentic New York accent was miles away from the Japanese voice, and his insults hit way harder that way.
"..."
As Tokiomi listened to that native English pouring scorn on his home, he felt no sense of dissonance at all. Just deep irritation and a growing fury. Because every word hit like a slap.
As a magus who had studied in the U.K, Tokiomi wasn't fluent in English, but he could understand it well enough. Which meant every barb landed crystal clear. His carefully maintained composure finally cracked.
"Enough!" he roared, all elegance collapsing in an instant.
And just like that, he was shouting back at Kaito, defending his pride as a magus. He accused the armored counterpart of being no true magus at all—a disgrace, a stain on the Tohsaka name, a man who had betrayed centuries of family legacy.
Kaito sneered back without missing a beat. To him, Tokiomi was nothing but a fossil—stupid, stubborn, and bound to be abandoned by the flow of history. A loser whose tragedy was inevitable.
The two argued fiercely, one in Japanese, the other in English, emotions bursting unchecked. Neither cared they weren't even speaking the same language. It was pure verbal combat: 'you shout your piece, I curse mine.'
And Tokiomi was truly seeing red. Kaito's system confirmed it—the log showed his "Fun Points" were skyrocketing.
The funny part? Tokiomi, faced with another version of himself, instinctively dropped all his usual facades. People often shed their masks when confronted with their own reflection—and if that reflection mocked and denied them, emotions boiled over into explosive conflict.
Especially in the Fate world, where that bizarre "I hate myself" rule seemed coded into reality. So now, staring at this older, contemptuous version of himself, Tokiomi's hatred reached critical mass. The disgust in his eyes couldn't be hidden anymore.
Not that "Iron Man Tokiomi" felt any different. His scorn was blatant, his venom-tongue jabs digging deeper, each word twisting the knife in Tokiomi's pride. Tokiomi's fists clenched, shaking with rage, as if the next second would erupt into a "true man's fight."
Normally, such a furious clash should've drawn attention from others in the estate. But Tokiomi had already sent Aoi and the girls away the moment he returned. He said he needed time to "speak alone" with this visitor. Aoi, ever obedient, had agreed and left with the children.
So now, the two Tokiomis stood face-to-face, alone in the house.
...
Beneath the armor, Kaito was pulling off a perfect performance as the "Masked Fool," wringing every last drop of emotional value out of Tokiomi.
Yes, Fun Points had limits. The cap depended on the person.
For Tokiomi, the maximum was around six hundred points per burst. After that, he entered cooldown, and no more points could be extracted until the CD timer reset. Some characters could only ever provide a single burst.
It all depended on their role in the story.
Kaito's system had locked onto Fate/Zero. That meant the main cast were the richest sources of points. Important characters like Tokiomi could be milked multiple times. Side characters like Aoi? One burst, tiny yield, and that was it.
And today, Kaito found a surprise bonus.
[Ding~]
[Achievement Unlocked: Iconic Scene Creator.]
[Reward: +500 Fun Points.]
A snapshot appeared in the system archive: {Tokiomi Tohsaka: I Hate Myself.}
The photo showed the two Tokiomis mid-argument. "Iron Man Tokiomi" had his finger jabbing into the other's chest, face dripping with disdain. Across from him, Tokiomi stood red-faced, arms flung wide, shouting in raw frustration.
The system explained: achievements could be repeated. As long as he created moments worthy of photos or video clips, the system would capture them automatically and hand out extra rewards.
With that, Kaito's total Fun Points hit 1125.
Jackpot.
Time to spend big, maybe grab a level-up.
As the Masked Fool, leveling up meant burning Fun Points. No grinding, no normal progression.
What's that? Are there other "players"? Who knows. The system never answered, and Kaito didn't care. All that mattered was finding the fun and making more of it.
When Tokiomi had finally been milked dry of Fun Points, Kaito chose to end the fight.
Of course, he didn't stop politely. He stopped with a condescending sneer: "Forget it. I'm done wasting time arguing with someone too stupid to keep up."
Naturally, Tokiomi couldn't stand that. His honor as a magus demanded a duel.
And so, with grim determination, Tokiomi challenged his counterpart—only to be utterly crushed in seconds.
The last trickle of Fun Points flowed into Kaito's system as Tokiomi collapsed in bitter defeat, his cooldown locked for the next six months.
Honestly, it wasn't even a fair fight. 'Iron Man Tokiomi' was a busted template—a mashup of Infinity War–era Iron Man with Doctor Strange's magic thrown on top.
Not world peak, but more than enough to crush a traditional magus like Tokiomi flat.
When the duel had begun, Kaito immediately deployed the Anti-Magic Restraints—nanotech claws snapping around Tokiomi's chest, sealing his magecraft and leaving him nothing more than a normal man.
Then came the finishing blow: a single punch wrapped in steel armor, landing squarely.
A personality-correcting strike that sent Tokiomi crashing into despair, questioning his very existence.
He never had a chance. Numbers, mechanics, everything was stacked against him.
Too overpowered? Doesn't this break the balance of the story?
Maybe. But who says the Masked Fool plays by any normal rules?
As long as it's fun, that's all that matters.
.
.
.