I'm Not A Master, I'm A Director (Type-Moon Fanfiction) - Chapter 42: New Project: Fate/Zero

Choosing Fate/Zero as his second film was actually a last resort.

In the current situation where FSN was gaining popularity, making a second film based on the Fate series to ride the wave and consolidate their popularity was the safest choice.

However, despite the many stories in the Type-Moon Fate series, not many were suitable for a film at this time.

The first to be discarded were the other two routes of FSN. Shinji was clear that their new work needed to ride on the success of FSN but not entirely depend on it.

FSN hadn’t yet reached the point where they needed to rehash the same story.

Among the remaining Fate stories, apart from the FGO rabbit hole, most of the works under the Fate label were either trying to ride the popularity of FSN or the popularity of works riding FSN’s popularity.

These works were often aimed at hardcore fans and had a high entry threshold, making them unsuitable for a mainstream audience.

This situation was partly due to the nature of the Type-Moon fan circle and a lack of coordinated commercial planning for the Fate IP, which had ultimately resulted in chaos.

After careful consideration by Shinji, there were only three Fate stories that could be used at the moment: “The Case Files of Lord El-Melloi II,” “Fate/hollow ataraxia,” and “Fate/Apocrypha.”

Shinji first ruled out his debut work, “The Case Files of Lord El-Melloi II.” Regardless of the excessive number of characters, problematic script, or the confusing parallel world setting, it made this work unsuitable for a release at this stage.

The second one to be ruled out was Fate/hollow ataraxia (Fha).

The reason was quite simple: the story itself wasn’t suitable for adaptation into a movie.

Fha’s story was too scattered, designed with a structure that revolved around minor events, which suited a game’s design.

You couldn’t say that Fha lacked a main storyline, but its disjointed nature was more like the one in “Carnival.”

Apart from the personal route at the end, the other routes only briefly glanced at his tragic fate.

A story structured like Fha could be adapted into a film, but Shinji believed that a TV series format was more suitable for this story.

In this light, Fate/Zero as a prequel to FSN became the only feasible option among the many choices.

Of course, Shinji didn’t need to tell everyone in the office about his choice of material. He just needed to show them the final decision.

“I’ve already written the concept for the new movie in the proposal. Take a look, and if you have any questions, feel free to ask.”

As he distributed the proposal to everyone present, Shinji also reminded the Heroic Spirits who didn’t have acting roles, “Although you won’t be playing major roles, you’ll still be involved in the shooting. You might work as stand-ins and members of the film crew.”

“Shinji Matou, you can be more direct,” EMIYA said, sounding annoyed. “Just call us extras.”

“Well, calling you guys doesn’t sound very nice,” Shinji said, a little embarrassed, scratching his nose.

In response to Shinji’s dual role as an actor and director, EMIYA just gave a cold smile.

Pretending not to notice EMIYA’s expression, Shinji turned his head away, feeling a bit guilty.

“Uh, is the main character in this new movie Saber again?” Sakura, who had looked over the proposal, raised an eyebrow. “Onii-sama, you really have a thing for her.”

Shinji shrugged helplessly. “Well, Arturia currently has the highest popularity. This is a commercial film, so we need to consider commercial aspects.”

Arturia raised her hand with a furrowed brow. “But… Master, is this script considered a commercial film?”

After being fooled by Sakura’s “May Sickness,” Arturia’s reading habits had expanded beyond the girly manga provided by Rin.

She had self-studied modern cultural knowledge, giving her some understanding of the current world’s film culture.

Shinji’s dark and convoluted script didn’t align with his previous claims of making straightforward commercial films.

Instead, it resembled those dark, edgy films that delved into the darker aspects of human nature.

Even without comparing it to other films on the market, just comparing it to FSN, you could see a stark contrast between the two stories.

If FSN’s story was a coming-of-age tale for a young King Arthur, then FZ was a survival game set in Fuyuki City with no survivors.

There was no light, only darkness. In a cast of nearly 20 main characters, apart from Waver, there wasn’t a single character that could be considered normal.

In fact, in this script riddled with psychopathy, Waver was the one who seemed out of place.

“Indeed…” Cu Chulainn commented after reading the script, “Master, the ‘Zero’ on your cover clearly implies that there are no survivors, right?”

Shinji narrowed his eyes. “Who said that? There are still three Masters and one Servant who survive, right?”

Rider, who had been silent until now, shared her thoughts, “If I remember correctly, your FSN script set Kiritsugu Emiya as already dead, right?”

“…”

“And Tokiomi Tohsaka and Gilgamesh also bit the dust in FSN, didn’t they?”

Sakura delivered a sneak attack on her brother. “So, that Waver who went back to England won’t have a good outcome, right?”

“Nah, that guy named Waver is still alive, isn’t he?”

“In reality, how many people who are alive in reality die in your script, Master? Isn’t Kiritsugu Emiya still alive, not to mention that death isn’t necessarily permanent.”

“Maybe that guy named Waver dies in a plane crash on his way back to England…”

“That’s enough, you guys!”

Seeing his Heroic Spirits increasingly losing their coherence, Shinji had to raise his voice to drown them out.

“I’m making Fate, not ‘Final Destination’! There’s no way Waver could die like that! I was planning to have him continue participating in side stories to rake in money… I mean, use side stories to build popularity.”

Realizing he had revealed his true intentions, Shinji quickly changed his tune.

Sakura tapped her chin, as if she had thought of something. “Waver is the guy in England who helps you with odd jobs, right? You’re making him work and act in movies. Be careful; one day, he might actually die from overwork.”

Shinji chuckled and waved his hand. “Impossible. With Waver’s ironclad liver, he could take on twice the workload and still be fine.”

“Achoo!”

In the London Clock Tower, Waver suddenly sneezed loudly.

“Are you catching a cold?”

Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald, who heard the sneeze, raised his head.

“It’s possible,” Waver said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ve had a lot of work lately.”

Kayneth’s tone was gentle. “You should be careful. Don’t overwork yourself. If you’re not feeling well, just push back the work that Matou kid gave you.”

“Teacher…”

Feeling touched by his mentor’s concern, Waver sighed.

“You’re the cornerstone of our Modern Magecraft department. If you get sick, our department will be in trouble,” Kayneth said as he handed Waver a stack of documents. “Here, take care of these files for me.”

“Alright, teacher.”

Waver reluctantly accepted.

“Well, hard work falls on those who can handle it. Outstanding talents like Waver Velvet deserve to shoulder a heavier burden than others.”

After delivering this speech, Shinji nodded repeatedly, as if he had been moved by his own words.

Sakura noticed a problem, though. “Wait a minute, Onii-sama. Isn’t Mr. Velvet in your script set as a young boy? How are you going to have him play the role himself?”

“That’s not a problem; I’ve thought of a solution.” Shinji pointed at Gilgamesh. “We’ll have Gilgamesh give Waver a youth-restoring potion.”

“A youth-restoring potion…”

Gilgamesh smirked, his lips curling upward. He leaned back in his chair in a tactical recline.

“Hey, Shinji.”

Gilgamesh smacked the table with the proposal, scowling. “Didn’t you say you’d summon Enkidu and me to star in the movie together with you? So, what’s this?”

“Ah, come on, you should at least understand my situation, King Gilgamesh,” Shinji quickly explained, “I didn’t have much choice. To make a movie with both you and Enkidu, I need to boost your popularity first; otherwise, no one will watch your films.”

Gilgamesh couldn’t believe Shinji’s excuses and raised an eyebrow, asking, “Is my current popularity not enough? I know about the scam where you used my pictures to make money!”

Shinji played with his fingers and absentmindedly explained, “Well, the popularity among Japanese housewives isn’t quite enough. Otherwise, EA’s toys wouldn’t sell as well as curry-flavored sticks.”

“Hmph!”

Gilgamesh let out a disdainful snort, and the sound reverberated so loudly that Shinji feared he might blow snot out of his nose.

“If Gilgamesh truly can’t stand it and wants to co-star with Enkidu early, I have a solution. I can include flashback scenes for you in the movie, and Enkidu will make an appearance.”

“Huh?”

Gilgamesh’s eyes narrowed, showing not only displeasure but also a hint of wariness.

Flattery will get you everywhere; it seems Shinji Matou knows his character well.

Gilgamesh was all too familiar with Shinji’s ways. He wondered if summoning Enkidu for a single scene was worthwhile. Could Shinji really be this altruistic?

As expected, after Shinji made the suggestion, he immediately pulled Yang Qing to his side.

“However, considering our limited budget for the film, we can only have Yang Qing here dress up as Enkidu. When the time comes, you, Gilgamesh, can pretend to be drunk and do some real acting.”

“I WILL KILL YOU! Shinji, do you believe I won’t use the oldest rope in human history to hang you to death?!”

Already infuriated, Gilgamesh lunged at Shinji Matou directly.

“Hey! I’m doing this for your own good! You were the one who said you wanted to act with Enkidu…”

Wham!

Before Shinji Matou could finish his sentence, Gilgamesh’s fist was already on its way. The meeting room descended into chaos.