Chapter 34: What Kind of Proper Person Walks the Red Carpet?

          

Chapter 34: What Kind of Proper Person Walks the Red Carpet?

Running into Cloris the moment he stepped off the plane—it was definitely not the start Shinji had hoped for.

Still, he didn't dwell too long on the rich woman.

His attention quickly shifted back to what actually mattered—the film festival.

To avoid any disruptions to his schedule, Shinji had made sure to arrive in France several days early.

With time to spare before the festival’s opening, his first impression of Cannes was that of a serene, picturesque seaside town.

Unfortunately, Shinji had no time to enjoy the beaches or flirt with bikini-clad girls.

After just one day adjusting to the time zone, he and Waver got straight to work finalizing Fate/Stay Night’s participation in the festival.

And that was when Shinji got a real taste of what a mature, full-scale commercial film festival looked like.

During the entire registration process, he basically did three things:

Pay money. Pay money. And pay more money.

After a whole day running around the venue, the biggest takeaway Shinji got wasn’t the artistic spirit of Cannes, but the naked, shameless power of capital.

No wonder people in the industry always said: “Money is the real key to the doors of cinema.”

Whether it was registering participants, printing promotional materials, or reserving a screening hall—everything came with a hefty price tag.

The total cost was quickly approaching what Fate/Stay Night had spent during its entire first week of promotion in Japan.

Even hiring the festival’s official partners to design posters or renting out a theater for screenings cost far more than what would be considered “reasonable.”

Shinji began to feel like he was buying bottled water at a tourist trap—except with more zeros.

Even the cheapest access badge set him back €1,200.

And since Shinji was still a nobody on the international film scene, his badge was the lowest tier available.

That meant he needed to wait in line for every movie and stand in the back at press conferences.

People higher up in the industry could purchase premium badges that let them skip lines and enjoy a slew of extra perks.

But of course, those badges could cost up to €10,000 a piece.

Shinji couldn’t help but admire the cunning of the French.

If you’re going to fleece people, go after the ones with deep pockets.

To be fair, compared to most rookie filmmakers, the Fate/Stay Night team had actually gotten away with relatively low expenses.

All thanks to the resourceful Waver, who had brought in a seasoned veteran from the UK to help them navigate the festival.

That veteran was Derek Ford—a long-time industry insider.

His name might not ring a bell, but his role as Bernard Woolley in Yes, Minister and Yes, Prime Minister was iconic.

Of course, by now the once cherubic "young angel" had become an elderly one, his face lined with age.

In this alternate Type-Moon universe, Derek Ford wasn’t just an actor—he was also a magus from the Clock Tower.

The more Shinji learned about this world, the more he felt like the current state of the entertainment industry had been shaped by someone’s highly personal tastes.

The things that had managed to “survive” intact were all clearly that person’s favorites:

Tokusatsu, horror films, mecha anime, and all sorts of British dramas.

Not only did The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes still exist in its most classic form, but even Yes, Minister—a veritable cultural treasure—had made it through unscathed.

Shinji was thrilled by this.

He’d been a fan of Yes, Minister and Yes, Prime Minister for two lifetimes.

Sadly, his favorite of the trio, Sir Humphrey Appleby, had been played by Nigel Hawthorne, who had passed away back in 2001.

That was a genuine regret for Shinji.

“Mr. Hawthorne was the most dedicated actor I’ve ever met. Even after we wrapped the whole season, he could still recite every single line perfectly by heart.”

Sitting in the living room of their hotel suite, Shinji cradled a cup of coffee while chatting with Derek Ford about amusing moments from their old TV shoots.

As soon as Derek Ford praised his idol, Shinji raised an eyebrow and asked, “Even those long-winded, complicated sentences?”

“Of course.”

Derek gave a classic Bernard-style smile with a playful wink.

Shinji tilted his head back with a sigh of admiration.

“That’s impressive. If only my actors were like that.”

As he said this, he shot a glance at Miss Rin Tohsaka, who was curled up in the corner of the room reading a book.

She had only just arrived in Cannes the day before, and she was also the only Fate/Stay Night cast member attending the festival for promotion.

Not that Shinji didn’t want more actors to come—it just wasn’t possible.

Shirou, the male lead, didn’t speak a word of English.

Kirei was a religious figure; public appearances were complicated. 

The Servants couldn’t leave Fuyuki City.

And the rest of the cast had roles that were... less than promotional material.

So in the end, only Rin came.

Fortunately, Rin had deliberately timed her visit not to disrupt her studies, arriving in France a few days later than Shinji’s group—meaning she had avoided the entire airport fiasco with Cloris.

Otherwise, the “airport incident” might’ve been a full-blown circus.

Rin heard Shinji’s sigh and huffed with irritation.

“What, you expect us in wheelchairs to race a Ferrari? Wouldn’t that just be embarrassing—for the Ferrari?”

After years of bickering, she had picked up more than a few of Shinji’s sarcastic comebacks.

She, too, was impressed by Sir Nigel Hawthorne’s dedication.

Having done some acting herself, Rin knew how hard it was to memorize long stretches of dialogue.

To not only remember every line, but also deliver them flawlessly? That was another level entirely.

Still, she believed actors like Hawthorne were rare treasures.

And sending a bunch of amateurs to compete against a national treasure like that...

“Well, honestly, you guys have done a great job already.”

Derek Ford chuckled warmly.

“Weren’t most of your lead actors complete rookies? For a first-timer cast, they performed more than admirably. Don’t be too hard on them.”

“No, no,” Shinji replied modestly, shaking his head.

“They’re just a bunch of amateurs who can’t even memorize their lines properly.”

Despite his words, a hint of pride tugged at the corners of his lips.

“You smug bastard...”

Rin frowned, clearly annoyed, and turned her attention back to the book in her hands.

Shinji leaned back on the sofa, slowly sipping his coffee, already mentally sketching out a new training plan for his Servants.

‘With Sir Hawthorne as the gold standard, I think I know which direction I need to train those guys in now…’

He quietly set a “small goal” in his heart.

“Achoo!” ×7

Back in Fuyuki City, all seven Servants sneezed at the same time.

“Hey, Shinji. Since you’re already here in Cannes, you should at least watch the red carpet livestream, even if you don’t walk it yourself,” said Kariya, sitting on the other end of the couch.

Shinji rolled his eyes and replied with disdain:

“Watching the broadcast is boring. It’s not like they ever show any wardrobe malfunctions anyway.”

“Hey now, Rin’s here,”

Kariya said awkwardly, glancing over in concern.

But Rin merely smiled sweetly and said:

“It’s fine, Kariya-ojisan. I’ve long since accepted that nothing decent ever comes out of Shinji’s mouth.”

Then she added with a pointed smirk:

“He’s just jealous because he didn’t get invited to walk the red carpet.”

“Tch, I’m the director working behind the scenes. What use is walking the red carpet to me?”

“And you? Didn’t you also act in Fate/Stay Night?”

Rin crossed her legs in her sheer black stockings, chin resting proudly on her hand, teasing him mercilessly.

“You said it yourself, remember? The moment someone steps in front of a camera, they become an actor. That’s what we call professional ethics.”

Shinji’s face twitched violently.

Kariya joined in, nodding enthusiastically to stir the pot.

“Shinji, just admit you're jealous. Come on, I’m your uncle, I won’t go around blabbing about it.”

Shinji, long used to his uncle’s borderline childish behavior, didn’t even bother replying. He simply filed it away in the back of his mind:

‘Keep acting like a clown, old man. Wait until I get my hands on the Fate/Zero adaptation, then we’ll see.’

Leisurely sipping his coffee, Shinji’s gaze occasionally drifted to the TV screen, which was currently broadcasting the Cannes red carpet event.

Today was the opening day of the 56th Cannes Film Festival.

Naturally, Fate/Stay Night, with no name recognition overseas, hadn’t received an invitation to the opening ceremony’s red carpet.

But that didn’t bother them.

None of the crew had any plans to buy their way onto the red carpet either.

Rather than waste money on something that meaningless, they figured it was better to sit in the hotel and sip drinks together.

Ah—wait, correction.

Coffee. They were drinking coffee.

The only person not drinking coffee was Waver, who was busy running around, tying up the last bits of logistical chaos to ensure Fate/Stay Night’s screening at the festival went smoothly.

Well, it wasn’t like “Zhuge Liang II” would die of overwork anyway.

As far as Shinji was concerned, giving Waver a day off wasn’t even a concept.

“Nothing to be sad about. Those actresses aren’t even as pretty as the female magi who’ve proposed to Waver before. He’s not missing out on anything.”

Shinji casually sipped his coffee while critiquing the actresses onscreen.

And he wasn’t just bluffing.

Sure, the actresses were pretty, but Shinji had long since become numb to beauty.

After all, his daily company consisted of top-tier women from all across the Moonlit World.

If we’re being honest—not one of these actresses could compare to Arturia in terms of sheer beauty.

“Shinji, you might wanna be less... crude when you talk,” Rin cut in, unable to stay silent.

“I mean, I don’t know if those female magi are pretty, but I do know they can fight.”

“......”

Shinji’s face was the very definition of “Damn, you got me there.”

Rin had a point.

When he actually thought about it, the women he knew were terrifyingly good in close combat.

There was Rin herself, who could use Bajiquan.

Then there was Cloris, who had floored him with one move just a few days ago.

Even Sakura—the supposedly gentle one—could lift a suitcase he couldn’t even budge with both hands.

And let’s not forget Irisviel, who looked like a delicate noblewoman but was someone even Kiritsugu the mercenary wouldn’t dare cross.

Shinji broke into a chuckle.

“You know, I’ve been thinking... maybe unlocking magic circuits makes women prettier. If that’s the case, female magi might just make for excellent actresses in the future.”

“Now that, I agree with,” Derek Ford nodded solemnly.

Then he sighed deeply, a look of disappointment on his weathered face.

“These days, actresses have no originality. Instead of working on their craft, all they think about is stripping their way to fame. Do they seriously think taking off their clothes is enough to win Best Actress?”

“Pffft—!”

Shinji nearly spat out his coffee at the old man’s bluntness.

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