I'm happy! Became near-canon transmigrator! Got power and authority wha—no, wrong opera. Seriously, feels like major screwup last life, no standard package—system, magic, loli mentor, etc.!
No harem on horizon either. Gotta do everything myself—10 years effort, risks... eh, barely believed it'd work, like old song—in mad frenzy, on insanity edge, inspiration path led.
Euphoria subsided, and I remembered that reality is one hell of a lady—she's always ready to grab you by the soft spot without warning, so you have to take her into account. Grunting like an old man, I got up and surveyed the room; not that big of a mess. The only thing causing trouble was the tablecloth soaked in my blood, but surprisingly there wasn't much of it, and it was only mine, which was a plus in some way. I could just take it down to the laundry on the first floor, and if there were questions, say that... hmm, I cut myself? Though there's quite a bit. Fuck it—if the cops get called, the blood is still only mine, and they could figure that out in some lab. Then I'd say I tried to off myself and changed my mind; that'd work as an excuse and explain why I lied initially.
But what really posed a problem was my own heart. Several opinions were clashing here, all roughly pushing toward the same decision—keep it. Stuff like "it's a shame," "maybe it'll come in handy somewhere, such a component!," "as a keepsake, it's still mine after all," and so on. Against it, mostly: "fuck, it's a goddamn heart—what if they spot it?!" But throwing it out or burning it still felt risky somehow. Eating it was more neutral, right on the edge of all that, but something whispered it might work and give something, but better to read up and find the best use.
Unable to decide what to do with it, I put off the decision for later and stuck the heart in the freezer. For the rest of the day, I managed to scrub the floor, take the tablecloth to the wash, and eat. Finally crawling into my own bed that night, I thought that tomorrow I should go rent a bicycle from the rental shop—after all, cranking out 20 kilometers from the city wouldn't take long. I needed to check if the Grail had any restrictions on me.
And test out the Magic! My hands were itching to do it right there at home, but I held myself back. No need to draw more attention than I already had; I wasn't sure some magical radar hadn't lit up like a bonfire in the night from all my fussing with the Servant.
*Next morning.*
I woke up and realized something was off. Hard to describe in words; the closest analogy was a browser. You're sitting on a webpage and everything seems fine. But your eye keeps catching that you have other tabs up top in the corner for other sites. Something very similar, but in my head. It made me tense up. I looked at my hand where the Command Seals had been—they were gone already. I pondered. Started recalling what happened yesterday. Pondered again.
Worth a try. I closed my eyes, strained as hard as I could, and tried to switch tabs in my head. My body twitched for a moment, like I hit a nerve, and I opened my eyes to see myself sitting on the bed.
I started examining "myself"—hands as dark as Hassan's, skull mask on the face, cloak. Peeked under the cloak and saw I was just in underwear there, same as the... um, original? Scratched my head—hey, cool. Closed my eyes and tried switching the tab back. Worked easier, and now I was looking at a standard Hassan, but me. So that was my body, just with dark skin, black-blue hair, mask, cloak, and underwear.
That last bit bugged me a little, but I rationally figured that if I was in clothes, my conditional, umm, shadow clone? Would have the same clothes + cloak and mask. Thoughtfully stroked my chin—life was looking up! Just felt like I'd accidentally switched universes and now I was in Naruto.
Why not? Did I become a conditional ninja? Yeah. Chakra? With a stretch, but yeah—Mana would do. Techniques? Again with a stretch, but yes; in theory, I knew how to use Illusion on terrain, Illusion on self—something like Glamour, that was all the Illusionist could do. And now a shadow clone too! Just one for now, but if I was right, the number would grow daily until it hit 99! Definitely Naruto!
Jokes aside, I needed to get used to the new abilities. A couple minutes of trying to give mental and verbal orders to the clone yielded nothing. All I managed was to dismiss it. And found an interesting detail—I hadn't noticed initially, but the clone stood in shadow and dove back into it when I dismissed it. Trying to summon it to a lit spot without shadow failed. Through trial and error, I realized I'd nailed the name—it really was a shadow clone. It could only appear and vanish in shadows. But I could move in it freely, even in light.
And it had no consciousness? Control only worked on, so to speak, manual drive. But then my main body was unconscious. And here again two extremes: on one hand, I'd just complained about overly willful Servants, but these dummies I had to control literally by hand weren't great either.
On the other— if you want it done right, do it yourself! Guess that'd be my life motto now. Plus, if they had consciousness, even a copy of mine—that'd be trouble. Sure, they'd execute orders better, but voices might come back. And I remembered common plots with clones—insanity from realization, attempts to kill the original and other clones. I knew myself; if I realized I was just a copy... not sure. Maybe not right away, but I'd try to desert or kill the other me.
Might sound weird, like we all submit to someone. Parents, boss at work, rules made by others. But there's awareness that people aren't equal and all different, so it softens it. But realizing there's an exact you, but now he's the conditional master and you're the slave. You're equal, neither better nor worse, but positions different.
If I were the clone-slave, even with good treatment, I'd still know who's boss and it'd piss me off, make me seek a solution, including radical. Or maybe just my personality? With those gloomy thoughts, I dismissed the clone and went to find a bike rental. Man, unpleasant realizing I might be a psychopath.
***
Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: Granulan