Chapter 7: Meme-Tier Power Scaling Currency

Chapter 7: Meme-Tier Power Scaling Currency

Admittedly, using suggestion magecraft  on Shirou without giving him a heads-up wasn’t exactly the most honest move on Shinji’s part…

But the results were just too good to ignore.

Even though Shirou had flubbed a couple of his lines, the raw emotion caught on camera was so convincing that Shinji decided to include the whole scene in the final cut anyway.

Once that was done, Shinji adjusted the camera angle for the next take. This time, the camera tilted upward—shooting from a low angle to emphasize Illya’s dominance over Shirou during her threat.

A low-angle shot like this brought out a strong sense of pressure for the audience, reinforcing Illya’s control and Shirou’s helplessness.

This kind of visual storytelling was something Shinji had picked up during his studies in Hollywood—one of the first lessons his instructors had hammered into him: "The angle is emotion."

The world he lived in wasn’t particularly developed in terms of its film industry, but the art of filmmaking had progressed remarkably fast.

Techniques that only started becoming widespread in his original world post-2010 were already becoming mainstream here.

Which was incredibly lucky for Shinji. With his training and experience, he could mentally simulate entire iconic movie scenes from scratch.

Theoretically, at least.

Actually filming a movie was a completely different beast—one that required far more patience and precision than most people could imagine.

With Illya’s dramatic scene now wrapped, the emotional "talking" scenes in the Einzbern Castle set were finally done.

What came next were the real stars of the show: the action scenes.

It’s often said: drama sets a movie’s ceiling, but action sets its floor.

Sure, this line didn’t apply to every movie, but for most commercial effects-heavy blockbusters, it was gospel.

No matter how deep or thought-provoking a story might be, that alone wouldn’t pack theaters.

What actually got the general audience to show up again and again for the big-screen experience… was the very thing many arthouse filmmakers turned their noses up at: action and visual effects.

Wonder Woman 1984 tried to move hearts with its sentimental message—but few felt anything at all.

Godzilla vs. Kong, on the other hand, had zero depth and yet left audiences screaming with excitement.

For a commercial effects film, what mattered most was simple: Was it fun to watch?

If it was, people cared. If it wasn’t, they didn’t.

And when it came to Fate/Stay Night, the movie Shinji was now filming—action scenes weren’t just important. They were the core.

The foundation and skeleton of the entire production.

The flashy, high-octane fights between heroic spirits were the movie’s biggest selling point.

Which meant Shinji had to design them with extreme care—they absolutely couldn’t just be fixed camera shots of two characters flailing at each other.

That kind of clumsy, chaotic mess wasn’t just boring. It was worse than watching two drunk guys brawling on a street corner.

What most people didn’t realize was that Heroic Spirits weren’t performers. They were warriors.

They could fight, yes—but that didn’t mean they fought in a way that looked cinematic.

So it became Shinji’s job to orchestrate every shot—meticulously controlling every element in the frame to ensure that the action looked clean, impactful, and above all: cool.

To help with editing, Shinji often shot scenes using both open-location takes and closed-set takes—having the Heroic Spirits perform identical choreography in both environments.

That way, he could pick and mix the best of both worlds in post-production.

Every fight scene required multiple rehearsals and test shoots. Only after experimenting would Shinji lock in the method that produced the best visual result.

Thankfully, the Heroic Spirits all had excellent martial arts foundations, so they could replicate any move Shinji wanted almost perfectly.

Because of that, Shinji avoided relying on shaky close-ups to mask poor choreography—his camera work aimed to showcase their full bodies in motion, their elegance and intensity displayed in every frame.

Among his many techniques, Shinji had a personal favorite.

He loved using a 360-degree tracking shot, circling around Heracles during his duels with Arturia.

To put it simply—it was a rotating camera shot, pivoting around Heracles as the central anchor.

Originally, this technique was invented for easier scene splicing in editing.

But in Shinji’s hands, it became a visual signature.

Many directors avoided it, calling it “stiff” and lacking in personality.

But to Shinji?

It was the perfect way to show off his cast’s power—and style.

Shinji had absolutely no patience for that kind of thinking.

Back in his previous life—well into the 2020s—360° tracking shots were still alive and well in mainstream filmmaking.

Especially for commercial directors, that rotating camera was a godsend—perfect for showcasing emotional tension, character relationships, and dynamic action sequences.

If anything, its popularity alone proved just how valuable that technique really was.

As for so-called artistic merit?

Sorry, but Shinji was a commercial director through and through.

Oscar trophies?

What’s that? Can you eat it?

In this world, art films still reigned supreme. The Oscars weren’t even considered prestigious compared to the big three European film festivals.

America’s role in the film industry was mostly reduced to being the world’s biggest cash cow—a place where other countries came to rake in ticket sales.

Sure, if he were being honest, Shinji did want to get fancy with his shots someday—experiment with those advanced techniques that top-tier directors used to elevate even the most basic 360 shot into something magical.

But Shinji wasn’t delusional.

He knew he was still a rookie in this world’s director scene. A film school freshman in the grand scheme of things.

What mattered most right now was getting this Fate movie made, and made well—clean, tight, and on point.

Once he had the fundamentals down, then he could play around with flashy auteur tricks.

Because if he bombed this film…

There wouldn’t be a next one.

. . . . . . . . . . .

“Haaaah!!”

In the middle of the set, the nimble Arturia danced in a tight spiral around the immovable Heracles.

She was agile and relentless—he was towering and unshakable, like a living monument.

Shinji watched the tension build until the exact moment Shirou and Arturia’s blades pierced through Heracles’s massive frame.

“Cut!” Shinji shouted through the megaphone.

Perfect.

With that, this particular battle scene was in the can.

“Nice work, Shirou. That should be it for this one.”

Shinji casually tossed a towel at Shirou—meant for wiping off the grime and stage blood covering his face and arms.

Unfortunately, Shinji's throw was weak. Shirou had to lunge forward just to catch it.

“Oi, at least try to throw it straight!”

“Be grateful you got one at all,” Shinji replied coolly. Then he turned and gently handed a second towel to Arturia.

“For you.”

“Thank you, Master,” Arturia said with a polite nod, accepting it with both hands.

She began patting her face clean in small, precise movements. The way she did it—so careful, so methodical—carried a quiet kind of charm.

Even though Servants were technically constructs made of mana, they really weren’t all that different from normal humans.

They could be injured.

They could bleed.

And yes—they could sweat.

Using Heroic Spirits as actors had turned out to be an absolutely brilliant move.

They were physically gifted, perpetually flawless in appearance, and immune to the usual aging or body-shape issues that plagued long-running productions.

And their “payment”? Just cover food, lodging, and a bit of pocket money.

As long as you managed their mana supply and their… occasional personality quirks, Heroic Spirits were basically the ideal actor from any production company’s perspective.

‘…Maybe I should start my own Heroic Spirit talent agency?’

The more Shinji thought about it, the more appealing the idea became.

He looked at his crew with a sparkle in his eye, already calculating profit margins.

“You sure play favorites,” Shirou muttered under his breath.

Shinji gave him a sidelong glare. “It’s called gentlemanly behavior. Look it up.”

“It’s called being yourself,” Rin snorted, arms crossed. “Right? You filthy womanizer who’s hit on every female student at the Clock Tower?”

Shinji shot back immediately, “That’s a vicious rumor! I did not hit on every woman! I only tried chatting up—like—most of the single ladies between the ages of sixteen and thirty-five!”

Rin’s face twitched.

“THAT’S NOT ANY BETTER!!”

Shinji raised a single finger with the utmost seriousness, like a professor making a final point before the bell:

“Of course there’s a difference. I don’t flirt with underage girls—proves I’m not a beast. I only chat up single women, which means I’m a man of pure love!”

“...Only you could make something that filthy sound so righteous,” Shirou said, stunned by his childhood friend’s level of shamelessness.

Rin let out a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“You’re seriously the shame of Fuyuki City. What are people gonna say when I go study at the Clock Tower? ‘Oh, you’re from the same town as that legendary creep?’ What then, huh?!”

“Easy—just go talk to Waver. He’s always happy to deal with bullies.”

“That’s not the problem here!!”

Rin’s left eyelid twitched dangerously.

Suddenly—

“Onii-sama… were you talking about flirting just now?”

Sakura had appeared behind Shinji without a sound, her voice low and ominous.

“AHHHH! HEY, HERC!! YOUR ACTING JUST NOW WAS AMAZING!!”

Shinji bolted like a startled cat, breaking into a cold sweat as he scrambled away from his little sister and threw both thumbs up at the nearby Heracles, who was busy regenerating from his “fatal wound.”

“Hmph~”

The huge Servant cracked a small grin and rubbed the bridge of his nose with one thick finger.

Heracles didn’t have many lines in the script—just a handful of words before vanishing, and mostly battle roars after that.

Maybe it was due to his weakened Madness Enhancement in this timeline, but he was way calmer than the canon Fate/Stay Night version.

Which, honestly, worked out great for Shinji.

He wasn’t filming a real Holy Grail War here. What he needed was a cooperative Heracles, not a mindless rage monster.

And Heracles? He wasn’t just cooperative—he was stellar.

If Heroic Spirits were the ideal raw material for actors, then Heracles was the finest gem of them all.

Quiet, disciplined, totally dependable. He didn’t complain, didn’t mess around, just sat silently in the corner when not on set and did exactly what was asked of him during filming.

Compared to a certain dog who kept sneaking out at night to drink, or a certain golden jerk who barely said two words to anyone, or a certain edgy librarian who ignored Shinji 99% of the time to read her books in the shadows, or even a certain gluttonous stomach-on-legs who ate enough for ten men every meal…

Heracles was a damn model employee.

He even voluntarily consumed one of his Twelve Labors—crippling himself just to make a scene look more realistic.

If this were modern Earth, Shinji would be getting sued for actor abuse. Thank goodness this world didn’t have a Heroic Spirit Labor Union.

Still, it was a real shame.

As sweet and loyal as Heracles was, his fate in the Fate franchise had always been that of a tool.

A convenient combat power reference. A stepping stone for other characters.

In Fate/Stay Night’s three routes, at least he still felt threatening, like a boss battle.

But by the time Fate/Grand Order rolled around, his Twelve Labors had become meme-tier power scaling currency.

Want to show how strong a weapon is? “It killed Heracles in two hits.”

And so, a world where only Heracles gets injured was realized.

Pat

Shinji gave the giant a sympathetic slap on the lower back—he couldn’t reach the shoulder.

“Stay strong, Herc. Someday… you’ll get crit resistance against swords.”

“Mm.”

Heracles glanced briefly at Sakura, then turned his massive head back to his Master and gave a solemn thumbs-up.

“...You mean I have to stay strong too?”

The big guy nodded slowly.

“……”

And so, a world where only Shinji gets injured was realized.