Chapter 659: Monkey Transformation

When Ailisi Feier said the name, there was something extra in her voice.

"Since this afternoon, I've been calling her nonstop. The home landline, her mobile, I've tried them all. None of them connect."

Weber frowned slightly.

"Could it be a signal issue? Such large‑scale Magic Pollution interfering with communication signals isn't impossible—"

"No."

Ailisi Feier cut him off, "The Einz Beren family's Communication Loop isn't a normal signal; it's unaffected by Magic Pollution. If even that can't be reached, there's only one possibility—she's out of service range."

That explanation was odd.

"Out of service range" is usually said about mobile signals, but when Ailisi Feier said it, Weber sensed another layer—it's not that the signal doesn't reach, but that Ilya's location isn't in this world at all.

Weber's fingers brushed the cigar in his trench coat pocket again, but this time he didn't take it out.

"Let's split up. You go check Ilya's safety; I'll go find Shi Chen. If there's any news, stay in touch jia...."

Ailisi Feier nodded, turned and pulled the car door open.

Her hand rested on the door handle, just as she was about to bend down and sit, she suddenly heard Weber say something behind her.

"Speaking of which—"

Weber stood there, the streetlamp lighting half his face brightly, the other half sunk in shadow.

His expression was hesitant, as if weighing whether to ask, but he eventually asked.

"Why haven't we seen Emiya?"

Ailisi Feier's hand paused on the door handle.

She said nothing, just opened the door wider, turned her body so Weber could see the back seat.

Weber bent down, sticking his head into the car.

A Monkeys was crouching on the back seat.

The Monkeys wasn't big, about a cat's size larger, its fur brown‑yellow, the belly fur lighter, almost off‑white.

It crouched on the seat cushion, both hands holding a banana, eating it.

The banana peel was half‑peeled, hanging from its wrist and swaying, exposing the white flesh inside.

Its eyes were round, pupils dark brown, the gaze blank and dumb, like a person staring at something they couldn't comprehend at all.

Weber stared at the Monkeys for three seconds.

The Monkeys also stared at Weber for three seconds.

Then it lifted the banana and offered it toward Weber, the gesture like asking, "Do you want a bite?"

Weber pulled his body back from the car, stood upright, and looked at Ailisi Feier.

His mouth opened, then closed, opened, then closed again.

The expression in his eyes shifted from confusion to shock.

His hand rose, pointed at the car, lowered, rose again, lowered again.

Ailisi Feier watched his bewildered posture, said nothing, and gave a slight nod.

That nod contained far too much information.

Weber's fingers in his pocket twisted the cigar into a new shape.

"Could it be... he's the Banana Character..."

Ailisi Feier nodded again.

Weber stood there, mouth agape, looking at Ailisi Feier's utterly expressionless face.

A thousand questions swirled in his mind, but they were like a flock of caged birds flapping together at the cage door, none able to escape.

In the end he managed only one sentence.

"You've been affected too?"

Ailisi Feier's hand rested on the car door, those red eyes shining in the night.

"Hmm,"

Her voice was Calm, "I have no strong emotional reaction to Qiesi turning into this. I know it's wrong, I know I should feel shocked, feel sad, try to turn him back. But I just—don't have that feeling."

She paused, as if gathering words.

"It's like seeing the leaves outside turn yellow; you know autumn's come, but you don't feel sad because the leaves turned yellow. That's the feeling. Something happened, I know it happened, but I lack the energy to feel anything about it."

Weber was silent for a few seconds.

"It seems this thing's impact on the mind is deeper than we thought."

As he spoke, the tail of the word "deep" rose again, and the Banana Character slipped out of his throat, like a tail that wouldn't let go.

He took a deep breath, let the air circulate in his chest, then exhaled.

"We have to hurry, Banana Character."

When those three words left his mouth, he himself was startled.

He glanced at Ailisi Feier. Ailisi Feier was also looking at him.

Their gazes collided in the air, then both averted simultaneously.

Weber was about to say something—perhaps "Let's split up" or "Stay in touch"—but before the words formed, his ears twitched.

A sound came from far, far away.

That sound wasn't from outside, but from within.

It rang directly inside his head, like someone writing on his brain with a needle, making his scalp tingle.

It wasn't a single voice.

It was many voices—dozens, hundreds, thousands, countless.

Those voices layered together like a massive human choir, each singing the same melody but each part different.

Those sounds intertwined, piling into a mountain of sound that pressed in from far, far away, pressing Weber's chest with a suffocating weight, as if something were blocking it there.

But he couldn't make out the lyrics.

The melody was clear, the rhythm was clear, the timbre of the sound was clear, but the lyrics—those words seemed to be covered by something.

Weber jerked his head up and looked at Ailisi Feier.

Ailisi Feier also looked at him.

Ailisi Feier's red eyes were a bit brighter than before, lips slightly parted, breathing a little faster, the hand on the car door clenched tighter, knuckles turning white.

Their gazes collided in the air, then both turned toward the same direction.

That direction was the horizon.

The night sky over Dongmu City should be cloudy this season, but tonight there wasn't a single cloud.

The deep‑blue canopy stretched from the horizon to the zenith; in the darkest part of that blue, directly above the city, in the empty air, something was glowing.

It resembled golden light shining up from a very deep, very deep water.

It spread slowly across the deep‑blue canopy, like a drop of ink falling into water—no, not ink falling into water, but—

Weber's mind suddenly stalled.

The form of that light wasn't the diffusion of ink in water, but something more orderly.

Golden patterns unfurled on the canopy, ring after ring, symmetrical and regular, like a precisely calculated geometric figure.

The edges of the patterns were sharp, with no blur at all.

That didn't look like the scene when a Servant releases a Noble Phantasm.

It resembled something being constructed, assembled, turning from a vague concept into a tangible existence.

Weber's pupils contracted.

"What powerful magic,"

Weber's voice was pressed low, low enough to sound like a mutter to oneself, "What on earth is this?"