Type-Moon, But I Summon Tom

Looking at his unharmed reflection in the mirror, the man pinched his face to confirm that he wasn't dreaming. He muttered in confusion, "Holy crap, I'm alive? I really transmigrated?!"

His name was Minamoto Nyanzuki.

About ten minutes ago, Minamoto had woken up at 1 PM, as usual. After dawdling around the house for half an hour, he decided to go out to buy breakfast.

Just as he was about to cross the street to get to the noodle shop on the other side, a fully loaded truck suddenly accelerated and slammed into him. It was hard not to suspect that the driver had done it on purpose.

But one thing was certain: Minamoto was completely wrecked, and it was only a matter of time before he died.

Just as Minamoto was about to breathe his last, a floating window appeared before his eyes. It said something about going to some world to save it or something like that. Minamoto didn't remember the details at all. In short, he had two choices: either revive and work, or die on the spot.

Given the situation, was there even a choice? Minamoto decisively chose the former.

When he came to, he found himself in a house that didn't belong to him. The owner wasn't home at the moment.

Who owned the house wasn't important. What mattered was that his body, which had been completely shattered in the accident, was now perfectly intact, as if the crash had never happened.

To be honest, even now, Minamoto felt like this was all unreal.

"So, I've really been transported to the Type-Moon world?" After digesting the information that had been implanted in his mind, Minamoto finally understood his current situation.

In short, this world was sick, and he had been brought here to save it, to prevent it from being destroyed.

Although... the specifics of the situation weren't explained at all, which made Minamoto feel like he was just cannon fodder.

However, the thing that brought him here didn't leave him completely helpless. At least it gave him the ability to summon Servants, giving him some means of self-defense so he wouldn't just die for no reason.

After calming himself down, Minamoto tentatively said, "Panel?"

As soon as he spoke, a floating screen-like interface appeared before his eyes, roughly the size of a 27-inch monitor.

On the left side were several prominent buttons, but only two were lit up: "Objectives" and "Summon." The others were grayed out and unusable, likely to be unlocked later.

After some thought, Minamoto didn't rush to check the summoning interface. Instead, he clicked on the first button, "Objectives."

Objective 1: Summon a Servant (0/1)

Objective 2: ???

Looking at these two lines of text, Minamoto felt like he had learned nothing. He silently exited the interface and turned his attention to the "Summon" button.

The moment he clicked it, the panel disappeared from his sight.

In its place, a rapidly forming crimson summoning circle appeared before Minamoto. It looked exactly like the summoning circles used to summon Servants in the Type-Moon universe.

"Wait, what's the summoning chant... Oh, never mind, it seems I don't need one."

As Minamoto was trying to recall the summoning chant, the crimson summoning circle began to operate on its own, without any manual input from him.

As the circle activated, each line of the pattern began to emit a faint blue light, growing brighter and brighter.

Finally, the circle dimmed for a moment, and then, as if an explosion had occurred at its center, a blinding white light burst forth.

Minamoto, who had been watching the entire summoning process, was caught completely off guard. It was like focusing intently on a sniper duel, only to have a teammate throw a flashbang in his face. He was instantly blinded.

Even though Minamoto quickly raised his right hand to block the light, it was already too late.

After about two or three seconds, as the light gradually dimmed, Minamoto's vision began to recover.

At the same time, three crimson Command Seals appeared on his right hand.

And now, standing in the summoning circle was a faint figure. Clearly, this was the Servant Minamoto had just summoned.

But... this Servant seemed a bit too short, didn't they?

Roughly estimating, the figure wasn't even a meter tall, and their appearance was a bit strange.

Minamoto rubbed his eyes and took a closer look at the Servant he had summoned. Then... he froze.

Standing in the center of the summoning circle was a large blue-gray cat, holding a golden trophy with the words "National Mouse Catching Champion - Tom" written on it.

"To... To-To-To-Tom?!" After staring in shock for a long time, Minamoto finally snapped out of it, looking at the blue-gray cat in disbelief.

Seeing that Minamoto seemed to recognize his name, Tom, still holding the trophy, nodded vigorously, confirming Minamoto's guess. His expression grew even prouder.

"Holy crap... it's really Tom..."

After the initial shock wore off, a wave of euphoria surged through Minamoto's heart. "Hell yeah!!!"

Forget everything else; at least his survival was now guaranteed.

Earlier, he had been worrying that since this was 1994, around the time of the Fourth Holy Grail War, if he didn't summon a top-tier or higher Servant, he wouldn't be able to save the world. In fact, he'd be in a state of being either already dead or about to die.

And then... he summoned Tom, a comedic character.

As everyone knows, no matter how powerful someone is, you should never argue with a comedic character. Just look at Arale from Dr. Slump when she crossed over into Dragon Ball—it's downright terrifying.

"Click~ Click~ Clack!" Just as Minamoto was still reveling in his joy, the sound of someone picking the lock came from the door.

"Creak~" With a soft sound, the person outside pushed the door open and saw Minamoto standing across from them.

The two stared at each other for a moment before the person at the door spoke first. "Yo~ You're the owner of this house, right? I'm Ryōnosuke. Sorry to bother you..."

Before Ryōnosuke could finish, Minamoto immediately recognized the name and pointed at him, shouting,

"Tom, tie him up!!!"

Hearing Minamoto's command, Ryōnosuke was momentarily stunned. Something felt off. Normally, when someone finds a stranger picking their lock, they'd first ask, "Who the hell are you?" Then they'd tell them to get out, and finally call the police.

That's how it usually goes, but this time... something felt different. Could this guy be a fellow thief? But there were no signs of the lock being tampered with earlier.

While Ryōnosuke was quickly assessing the situation, Tom, upon hearing Minamoto's order to tie up the man in front of him, pointed at himself and then at the man who was nearly three times his height, as if asking, "Are you sure my tiny body can handle him?"

Minamoto didn't say anything, just confidently gave Tom a thumbs-up.

After receiving Minamoto's confirmation, Tom swallowed hard.

Though he was more than a little nervous, he tossed his "National Mouse Catching Champion" trophy aside, reached behind his back, and pulled out a lasso from nowhere.

Holding the end of the rope in his left hand, Tom began swinging the lasso with his right hand, faster and faster until it became a blur.

"Huh? You're not seriously having this cat attack me, are you? Hahaha... Wait, is that even a cat?!" Halfway through his laughter, Ryōnosuke's expression turned to one of utter confusion as he watched Tom's actions.

Once the lasso reached a suitable speed, Tom hurled it toward Ryōnosuke.

The rope, which had been only a meter long in Tom's hands, suddenly extended in a completely physics-defying manner, flying straight toward Ryōnosuke, who was six meters away!

Although Ryōnosuke couldn't comprehend what was happening, he still knew how to dodge. He simply sidestepped to the right, easily avoiding the lasso.

But before Ryōnosuke could relax, his pupils suddenly contracted.

The lasso, having missed him, hung in mid-air as if gravity didn't exist.

Then, something even more spine-chilling happened. The lasso, after hovering for less than two seconds, made a sharp 90-degree turn and flew straight toward Ryōnosuke's new position, more accurate than a homing missile!

"Crap!" By the time Ryōnosuke realized he needed to dodge again, it was too late. His momentum had left him momentarily stiff, and in that split second, the lasso looped perfectly over his head, binding his entire body, including his arms.

But it didn't end there. The lasso, having caught Ryōnosuke, began to twist and turn in an eerily unnatural way, wrapping itself around him until it finally tied itself into a neat bow.

Once the bow was tied, the lasso stopped its physics-defying movements, leaving Ryōnosuke completely trussed up like a dumpling, with only his lower legs able to move slightly.

Ryōnosuke couldn't understand this supernatural phenomenon at all. The rope had been only a meter long when Tom threw it, so how had it managed to bind him so thoroughly?

"Nice job, Tom! Well do— Huh?" Just as Minamoto was about to praise Tom for effortlessly defeating Ryōnosuke, something unexpected happened.

Ryōnosuke, faced with something he couldn't comprehend, instinctively took a small step back.

That tiny movement caused Tom, who was holding the rope, to be yanked toward Ryōnosuke by a full meter!

In fact, Tom, who had been bracing himself with his feet, left two meter-long grooves in the wooden floor as he was dragged forward!

It wasn't until Tom reached the hallway connecting the entrance to the living room that he managed to stop himself by pressing his feet against the walls on either side of the hallway.

Both Minamoto and Ryōnosuke were stunned. Ryōnosuke, in particular, couldn't believe that he had dragged Tom over a meter with just a small step backward, a distance of only about ten centimeters!

'Wait, am I actually this strong?!'

Ryōnosuke, who had initially thought he was dealing with some supernatural entity and was doomed, suddenly felt a surge of courage when he realized he could easily overpower the cat.

Following the same method as before, Ryōnosuke took another step back. Just like last time, even though Tom was now bracing himself against the walls, Ryōnosuke felt no resistance at all. It was as if Tom was utterly weak.

After confirming this, Ryōnosuke's confidence was fully restored.

He now understood that although the blue, bipedal cat named Tom seemed somewhat eerie, his own combat abilities far surpassed the cat's.

If he could just pull Tom close enough, a single headbutt would end the fight.

Meanwhile, Tom was dragged another meter toward Ryōnosuke, though this time only his body moved forward while his feet stretched a meter, still firmly planted at the hallway entrance.

Now, Ryōnosuke and Tom were only about two meters apart. One more small step, and Tom would be within headbutting range.

At this critical moment, Tom let go of the rope with his right hand, reached behind his back, and pulled out a large club about the size of his wrist.

Though Ryōnosuke was puzzled about where Tom had gotten the club, he wasn't worried. With Tom's strength, even if the cat managed to hit him, it would feel like a baby's punch. Besides, he would end the fight with a headbutt before Tom could even attack.

So... Ryōnosuke confidently took the final half-step back.

With that step, he and Tom were now face-to-face, less than half a meter apart.

When two males are this close, there are only two possibilities: either they're about to fight, or they're about to... well, you know.

At this moment, Ryōnosuke and Tom were like two gunslingers in a Wild West showdown. After a brief standoff, they both made their moves!

Ryōnosuke bent his knees and leaned forward, ready to deliver a powerful headbutt. But just as he was about to strike, he noticed that Tom wasn't swinging his club. Instead, the cat was holding it about ten centimeters above his own head.

This made Ryōnosuke hesitate for a moment. Was Tom giving up on attacking?

As Ryōnosuke was pondering this, Tom, without even moving his wrist, simply flicked his hand downward, bringing the club down onto Ryōnosuke's head.

"BAM!!!!!!!!"

With a loud BAM, the club struck Ryōnosuke's head with pinpoint accuracy.

The impact sent Ryōnosuke's legs stiffening, his body going completely rigid, like a wooden plank.

He floated about twenty centimeters into the air, as if suspended in mid-air.

After about five seconds, as if finally remembering to give Newton some respect, Ryōnosuke fell to the ground with a thud, knocked out cold. He left this world peacefully.

At the same time, a fist-sized bump rapidly formed on Ryōnosuke's forehead, with golden stars swirling around it.

"Go... good job, Tom," Minamoto stammered, his right hand trembling as he patted Tom's head.

Although he had known that comedic characters were overpowered in serious settings, seeing it firsthand still left Minamoto utterly speechless. It was like the absurdity of absurdities.

Unlike Ryōnosuke, who had been completely terrified by the supernatural, Minamoto at least had some mental preparation. Still, the sight of Tom's antics left him thoroughly shaken.

Feeling Minamoto's hand on his head, Tom casually tossed the club aside and nuzzled against Minamoto's palm, completely unaware that his actions had just blown his new master's mind.

"Anyway... let's get out of here," Minamoto said, glancing at the wrecked hallway and the trussed-up Ryōnosuke lying in the middle of it. He decided it was best to leave before the actual owner of the house returned.