Emiya Shirou Doesn't Want to Work Overtime [58]

"..."

Shirou had long since grown accustomed to waking up in strange places after losing consciousness due to various situations.

So much so that he didn’t even bother complaining about yet another unfamiliar ceiling above him.

It’s not as if I’ve ever woken up to a familiar one.

Well, except at home.

He’d also gotten used to quickly checking his own condition whenever this happened.

His hands and legs were carefully wrapped in bandages, and he could feel a gentle warmth radiating from beneath them.

Clearly, they'd applied some medicine to treat his frostbite.

But Shirou could no longer feel any lingering damage from the freezing. Beneath the bandages, he could easily move his fingers.

Looking around at the groaning Imperial soldiers nearby, Shirou wondered why he’d been brought here.

Facing Esdeath earlier, Shirou had fully prepared himself for death.

After all, he’d rescued enemy soldiers, and by the Empire’s standards, that alone should have earned him an immediate execution—not medical care meant for their own wounded troops.

Shirou had understood this clearly from the start.

He didn’t know who had initiated the war, who was right or wrong. He only knew that war itself wasn’t a matter of justice.

If he could save even a handful of lives on such a battlefield, that was enough for Shirou.

Even if those he’d rescued ended up dying later anyway.

Of course, he knew it was little more than personal comfort.

For instance, if a friend of his sought revenge, and achieving it would cause tremendous casualties and hurt countless innocents, Shirou wouldn't urge him to abandon vengeance—there was nothing wrong with revenge itself.

But Shirou would do everything in his power to stop his friend regardless.

The outcome might be the same, but his motivation would be fundamentally different.

One aimed to prevent revenge itself, the other aimed only to protect the innocent.

It was the same as when Shirou had rescued those soldiers during battle.

He hadn’t done so to aid the Northern Tribes or to buy them time. He'd acted solely to give those individuals a chance to survive.

Even if their deaths were inevitable in the future, Shirou had at least saved them this time.

Ultimately, the result was the same:

He’d delayed Esdeath, preventing her from swiftly moving to another battlefield.

But only Shirou himself knew precisely why he had done so.

It was ironic; previously, he’d mercilessly cut down countless soldiers to save himself, yet now he willingly risked his life to rescue others.

“You’re awake.”

A middle-aged officer with stark white hair addressed Shirou loudly, his voice strong and steady.

“You are…?”

The man obviously wasn’t a doctor, yet Shirou hadn’t seen him during the earlier battle either. He had no choice but to ask.

“I am General Esdeath’s subordinate, Liver.”

Liver responded simply and directly, not bothering to act superior. In truth, he felt a degree of admiration toward Shirou—not for saving the enemy soldiers, but for holding his own against Esdeath.

After all, Liver himself had never lasted more than three strikes against Esdeath in a spar.

Yet Shirou had apparently managed a prolonged fight, earning Liver’s genuine respect.

Though in reality, Shirou hadn’t truly endured beyond three serious strikes from Esdeath, Liver hadn’t personally witnessed the fight. He only had soldiers’ exaggerated reports to rely on.

Moreover, he’d heard that Esdeath wanted Shirou as her subordinate, further affirming that Shirou possessed considerable skill.

Thus, Liver saw no reason to treat Shirou badly. After all, they'd likely soon be colleagues; unnecessary hostility served no purpose.

He couldn't imagine Shirou would refuse Esdeath’s invitation—she was a charismatic general, admired by many.

“Mr. Liver, this ‘Esdeath’... is she the woman with long blue hair?”

Liver nodded, and Shirou immediately felt a chill race down his spine again.

That unbearable coldness was something Shirou never wanted to experience twice. It felt as though it froze his very consciousness, plunging him into indescribable agony.

Of course, Shirou could endure it—he’d survived losing his eyes, his right arm, and countless grievous wounds. He could endure almost anything.

But he wasn’t a masochist; why would he willingly subject himself to such suffering?

“So, were you the one who saved me?”

Shirou quickly wrapped the blanket around himself as he asked the older man.

“No,” Liver shook his head. “It was General Esdeath herself who spared your life.”

Liver certainly couldn’t have saved Shirou from Esdeath’s hands. Moreover, he hadn’t even been present at the scene.

“Huh?”

Shirou tilted his head slightly, confusion written plainly across his face.

Why?

He couldn't understand.

“General Esdeath is a very compassionate person. She appreciates your exceptional talent and decided to spare you.”

Seeing Shirou’s confusion deepen, Liver explained earnestly.

Compassionate…

If she were compassionate, I wouldn’t have had to fight her, Shirou retorted silently in his heart, though he wisely kept those words unspoken.

Had she truly been compassionate, Shirou would’ve simply disguised himself in Imperial armor during the chaos and blended in quietly with her army.

After all, even an enemy general had managed that feat—so why couldn’t Shirou Emiya?

That was underestimating Shirou Emiya’s infiltration skills—

Wait…

Actually, Shirou Emiya has no infiltration skills at all.

“You seem fine now. You’re even gripping your blanket without trouble.”

Liver gestured toward Shirou’s hand holding the blanket and spoke plainly.

“Yes, your medicine was highly effective. I’ve mostly recovered.”

Shirou nodded cautiously. He sensed this man possessed a formidable presence and was undoubtedly strong.

“In that case, come with me to meet General Esdeath. I’ll wait outside.”

With that, Liver turned and left the infirmary.

He didn’t question Shirou’s rapid recovery, as such fast healing wasn’t uncommon in their ranks. Some artificially modified soldiers could even instantly regenerate lost limbs—almost like demons from the world Shirou had known.

Therefore, Liver wasn’t particularly surprised by Shirou’s quick healing.

Besides, there was something strangely charismatic about the young man, making him oddly approachable. Even Liver, a former esteemed general himself, felt his authoritative demeanor soften involuntarily when speaking with Shirou.

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This is a fan translation of 卫宫士郎不想加班 by 此世无存. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!