"Ahem, everyone, eyes over here. I've got sothing to say."
Mr. Han's face filled the cara, grinning as he waved to the viewers. Bundled up in a thick down jacket and overcoat, he looked like a dumpling.
His chosen race was Elafia—already naturally resistant to cold—yet he was still dressed in layers, a clear sign of just how brutal the weather in Ursus had beco.
"Damn, cold!"
"Wait, isn't Mr. Han supposed to be shy, brooding, and bad at small talk? How co he's this lively in a video?"
"Pfft, high school classmate here—Mr. Han, didn't you skip cleaning duty yesterday?"
Felix chuckled at the scrolling comnts. The "attacks" were still far too soft. Unlike Magic ZX's videos, Mr. Han's content was mostly codic skits and voiceovers, often in the form of Arknights-thed vlogs. His most popular series was Ursus Survival Diary, fild entirely by himself. One morable episode featured him running into an Ursus auntie after weeks of seeing no NPCs at all—his eyes practically lit up—which had beco an inside joke among players ever since.
"Winter's the hardest season to survive. Ursus is just too damn harsh. All I want is to spend New Year sowhere with mountains and rivers. Yan Country sounds nice. Or maybe Iberia, feel that salty ocean breeze."
As he spoke, Mr. Han walked viewers through the camp, greeting familiar faces who'd appeared in his past videos.
"Not to brag, but ever since I made that trade with Mr. Pioneer, our settlent's been thriving. Over the last few months, hundreds of fellow fifty-coin brothers have trickled in, all fleeing north after running out of supplies or getting squeezed by the Ursus Patrol."
"Seriously, Mr. Pioneer is a good man. No, you don't get it—ever since becoming Infected, no NPC has looked at us with anything close to respect. That feeling of being treated like a person? It's nonexistent! Well… except with Mr. Pioneer. Honestly, when I first read about other players' experiences with him on the forums, I didn't believe it—he's a Sankta, after all, right?"
"The supplies he traded us are enough to last half a year."
Mr. Han clicked his tongue. "If Arknights were a gacha ga, I swear I'd whale until I cleared the entire banner just to pull Mr. Pioneer!"
The comnt feed instantly exploded with laughter.
"Clip this. If he doesn't do it, we demand a streak through the streets."
"Here we go, the flag's been planted."
"Wait, if Arknights beca a mobile ga, what genre would it even be? No way it'd be open-world, right? Otherwise it's just another MMO."
The chat's tangent made Mr. Han cough a few tis to reel things back. "Anyway, right now there are only three player settlents in northern Ursus. We're planning an offline etup to discuss rging. Even if we don't, we should form an alliance—look out for each other. NPCs already treat us worse than animals, and the Ursus Patrol is breathing down our necks. The last thing we need is infighting."
"Unity!"
A player leaned into fra, shouting sothing in Korean, which imdiately earned heckles.
"Private Second Class."
"Private Second Class Mr. Han—loyalty!"
"Right, right, enough of that. The point is, we're still weak. No power. All we can do is stick together." Mr. Han clasped his hands, then let them fall. "I don't know what the level cap will be in 2.0, but one day, we players will sound the horn for a counterattack—and burn Ursus to ash!"
"Yeah! That's the spirit!"
"666—when the ti cos, I'm sponsoring a missile with my oshi's na painted on it."
"Already planning a war with NPCs? Bold, Mr. Han. Bold."
Felix couldn't help but smile. The players really would sound that counterattack one day—eventually crossing paths with Talulah and the Reunion Movent, even joining their ranks, before finally clashing with Rhodes Island head-on.
In his past life, Felix had fought in that war. He hadn't known much about Talulah back then, not until reading summaries from community veterans. Only then did he learn how she'd fallen into darkness, been possessed, and—at the climax—found herself again, like a shounen manga scene where the hero drags a friend back from the brink.
Hmm… in his previous life, the players never managed to unite. Without the Pioneer, those in northern Ursus fought separately, clashing over scarce resources. That eventually spiraled into war—the second large-scale player-vs-player conflict after the Kazdel Civil War.
This ti, Felix was here. He'd provided them with supplies and, more importantly, taught them a way to earn their keep—bartering with non-hostile Ursus NPC settlents to build trade networks.
Sure, players had tried that before, but they hadn't known the rules or the true value of goods in the snowfields. The results had been poor; most locals had dismissed these Infected as backwater bumpkins. With Felix's guidance, they'd begun forming stable ties with several Infected settlents.
All Felix had done was hand them a price list—the actual decisions were left to the players. In monts like this, he avoided acting as their frontman. His identity and status made him unsuitable for negotiation—he wasn't an Infected, and he was a Sankta.
But his quiet, behind-the-scenes role only added to his mystique. To the players, it was like he had "finished his work, shaken the dust from his sleeves, and hidden away his na." After he left, the camp was filled with praise for him.
That was the best way to leave an impression—never stealing the players' spotlight. In an MMORPG, giving players a sense of participation ant letting them live through the monts themselves. An NPC who constantly dragged players forward would quickly beco tireso, especially in an online ga. Once boredom set in, people would quit—and if that happened here, it wouldn't just be one or two leaving.
A certain amount of freedom was essential. Players needed personal involvent; only then would they grow truly invested in the ga world.
Felix had learned how to manage that distance from his "green-tea little sister" in his past life—always close enough to care, but never so close as to smother. Comforting them when they were hurt—like when he'd delivered supplies to Infected players—and smiling silently when they were happy—like when Mr. Han and the others completed a successful trade.
This approach worked on players every ti. His goal was to beco Terra's very own charr.
After wrapping up his latest vlog, Mr. Han signed off. It was only as Felix was leaving that he noticed Mr. Han had changed his profile background. The avatar was still the sa boy shouting, "My king's power—ahhh!" But the background image was new: a campfire photo of Mr. Han and the Pioneer sitting side by side, surrounded by others, all laughing at so shared joke. Mr. Han had captured the mont and made it his banner.
It was the kind of picture that ward you just by looking at it.
Smiling, Felix closed the video site. There were still a few months left in Terra ti before 2.0 launched, and his preparations were almost complete. The Emperor had already gone to scout in Lungn. Felix's influence there wasn't small—once he'd made the right introductions, Tomorrow's Developnt would have a firm foothold.
He didn't have too many contacts in Lungn. With Snowsant now lured away, that left just Nine at the Lungn Guard Departnt. He wondered how she'd been doing lately—had she risen to beco leader of the Special Operations Squad?
As for Penguin Logistics… well, this ti, it probably wouldn't exist. But other groups, like the Lee's Detective Agency, were still around. He could always drop by and chat.
And as for Penguin Logistics' staff—Lemuel aka Exusiai—recruiting would be easy. Texas was soone he'd once planned to "raise" in his own way. After all, who could resist a cool, black-stockinged, sneaker-wearing, aloof Lupo girl? But when the players first arrived, they were far more important to him than Texas, no matter how charming she was.
When exactly had Cellinia been exiled from Siracusa after her family was wiped out? Felix couldn't quite recall. Better to have the Emperor keep an eye out.
If it was Sora, all Felix needed to do was tell the Emperor, and he'd go find her at Siren Records.
As for Croissant… Felix honestly had no idea where to track down that "buttery horn." He knew nothing about her backstory. Finding her in Lungn would just have to co down to luck.
"You're awake?"
"Mmm…"
It wasn't Federico. He seed to keep an almost chanical sleep schedule—once he decided on a rest ti, nothing woke him until it was over.
The first to wake was Patia, sitting in the back row. She stirred at the vibration of the vehicle, then spotted Felix still driving without a trace of fatigue. Leaning forward, she spoke softly.
"Are we almost there?"
"Yeah, about an hour out," Felix replied, glancing at her in the rearview mirror as she rubbed her eyes. She was still holding the firearm she'd gripped tightly even in her sleep, now carefully wiping it down. "You can still grab a bit more rest."
"Talking with you is better than sleeping."
Patia's golden eyes t his. "Let us handle the work when we get there, Captain. We're a team—you shouldn't shoulder everything alone."
"Alright," Felix said with a nod, "but make sure you wear full protective gear."
"Got it~"
Her weapon was crafted by the sa gunsmith who'd made Fiamtta's, a rare and powerful gun even by Laterano standards. Earning a permit to wield it had nothing to do with Fiamtta—Patia's own mastery of firearms had won her that qualification.
Federico was the second to wake, right on schedule—exactly two hours after falling asleep, just as he'd said. He didn't say a word, simply began suiting up in his gear.
Plu and Spuria followed suit.
In the far distance, beyond the mountain, they saw it: a massive Originium pillar rising from the earth.
"This is already outside Laterano territory—inside Kazdel," Federico reported with his usual precision. "The coordinates we were given were wrong."
"Think we'll run into Sarkaz?"
"No… even Sarkaz wouldn't approach an Originium pillar. Infected or not, no sane person would get that close and worsen their infection."
The squad traded quick opinions. Felix pulled the truck over. They were still far away, but this was the place to get ready.
The prototype drone rose steadily under Felix's control. Spuria leaned over his shoulder, eyes gleaming, watching the display on the back of his glove with anticipation. Plu and Patia also stepped closer, curious to see how he operated it. Even Federico, while keeping watch, stole glances at Felix's hands.
"…Originium dust contamination's pretty bad," Felix murmured, reading the data feed. "Given the Catastrophe happened in the past couple of days, that level's normal."
Not far from the pillar, he spotted a truck overturned on its side. At this range, a full-gear cargo retrieval wasn't impossible—but it was risky. With the Catastrophe so recent, contamination would be at its peak.
Felix narrowed his eyes as the prototype drone climbed higher into the sky.
"Captain, what is it?" Federico noticed the shift in Felix's gaze and asked.
"…Huh. Looks like Spuria was right," Felix clicked his tongue, pointing at the live feed on the screen. A few small black dots moved slowly across the ground.
"Are those… Sarkaz?" Spuria asked uncertainly.
Felix gave a short hum. "Most likely. Saw the overturned truck and ca to scavenge. There's not much worth taking in Kazdel anymore—the civil war's been dragging on for years. Ordinary rcenaries are either dead or living under false nas. Hard to say which camp these ones fall into."
Federico silently drew his firearm—not his ceremonial guard gun, but a standard-issue weapon from the Notarial Hall. The rest of the squad's expressions also shifted subtly. Having grown up and trained in Laterano, they all understood exactly what Sarkaz ant.
They were enemies. But in this cold-war era, the approach was caution and watchfulness, not the bloody kill-on-sight of years—or decades—past.
A large reason for that was the Sarkaz being too busy fighting their own civil war to focus on anyone else.
"What's your call, Captain?" Spuria asked.
Felix pressed his lips together. "Besides so food, that truck was carrying tals for firearm manufacturing."
"The food will be contaminated in this environnt, but the tals—we have to secure those." His tone was calm but firm. "For maximum safety, we move only after they make their move. The Sarkaz want provisions, not rare tals. To them, those are worthless."
Now that he was the squad's captain, the safety of his team naturally ca before anything else.
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