Ancient Dragon in Arknights

What is this cake called?

Nesario noticed that there was only one cake left on a certain shelf, and this flavor seemed to be selling out faster than the other fully stocked shelves.

"This is 'Valerie,' just like our shop name. It's baked by our best bakers and has a very unique flavor, but because only one baker knows how to make it, production is not high."

"Then I'll take this one!" x2

Nesario quickly secured the cake, matching the shop's name—wasn't this supposed to be their signature product? If this cake tasted bad, then "Valerie" would be a complete disaster, so it had to be the shop's masterpiece!

But just as he made his move, another voice rang out from the side: the opponent's target was the same as Neltharion's!

Turning around, I saw a Miss Film.

This young lady looked to be about the same age as Nesario, the prime of a girl's youthful beauty. Her attire perfectly reflected this; she wore a Victorian high school uniform, a white shirt with a black tie at the collar; over the shirt was a grey cotton blouse, though it was bulging out by her high breasts—not exactly the kind of blouse a high school student should have.

She wore a black pleated skirt, below which was a shimmering, healthy-looking area of ​​skin, and further down, playful black mid-calf socks peeked out from her mid-calf boots.

A youthful, vibrant, and beautiful aura wafted over him, and Nesario even felt as if he had returned to his high school days—though not for very long.

Besides, this lady has an impressive head of light green hair. If it were just the color, it wouldn't attract much attention. What's striking is the amount of her hair—the super long green hair almost covers her entire back. If you pass by her side by side, you might think that you just walked past a clear spring.

Her emerald-green eyes, matching her hair color, are the epitome of large, watery eyes; however, what's more interesting is the corner of her eye—such a lovely girl has slanted eyes. From a physiognomy perspective, women with this feature are generally strong-willed and harsh, and few people like this type.

However, this characteristic becomes quirky and mischievous when it appears on a young and beautiful girl named Fei Lin. Just looking at her face makes you feel like you're being teased. If she smiles, the person looking at her will definitely scratch their head and try to remember where they went wrong.

"Although it is a gentleman's duty to yield to a lady, miss, I have been here for just now."

Nesario knew nothing of gentlemanly conduct. Colombia had neither knights nor gentlemen, only gender equality. Even around him, women were clearly more assertive; he'd never seen a man outmaneuver Celia. Those young rascals who said they wanted to date her back in school all ended up crying their eyes out.

"I'm sorry, but after hearing this lady's introduction, I'm very tempted. After all, this is a cake personally baked and designed by Dior himself."

Miss Green Dufelin explained her motivation, saying that it seemed to be the baker of the cake who attracted her.

"Who is Master Dior?"

"He is the head baker of this shop, and one of the best bakers in Lentinium, and even in all of Victoria."

"Yes, he has provided cakes for the birthday banquets of many nobles. I came here as soon as I learned that he had opened a shop in Lontinim."

With the explanation from the two Ms. Films, Nesario finally understood who the shop's head baker and manager really was. It was normal that he didn't know, given his lack of interest in this field.

It's no wonder this shop has the resources to be located in such a prime location; it seems this cake, priced at 3 Victoria silver coins, is far more impressive than Nesario imagined.

"Alright, I don't know much about this myself. Rather than letting it be ruined by me, I'd better grant this lady's wish."

Nesario chose to back down; it was just a cake, no need to lose face and fight for it. Of course, the main reason was to follow local customs; Victoria valued gentlemanly manners, and Nesario also showed a rare moment of humility.

"Thank you very much."

"It is my honor to see you happy."

Wow, what perfect gentlemanly manners! I feel like I could date ten aristocratic ladies!

Nesario maintained a facade of wit and elegance, but inside he was ecstatic—that's how Colombians are. He even started to sized up Miss Felin in front of him, hmm~ o(*￣▽￣*)o—she's a real beauty!

Since the cake I wanted is no longer available, I'll just have to find the next one.

Nesario continued choosing, and after a short while, the blonde waitress came back.

"Sir, this is yours. Please take it."

"?"

The waiter handed Nesario a packaged cake, which puzzled him.

"This was given to you by that lady. She said it was compensation and even recommended this cake to you."

The blonde waitress maintained a calm demeanor on the surface, but she was actually getting excited too.

The gentleman and the lady, the courtesy and the compensation—both guests embodied elegance to the fullest; more importantly—the lady had already left, and she asked the waiter to slow down his actions.

All that remained was a green silhouette and a recommended cake.

This is practically the opening scene of a shoujo manga! Will those two ever meet again!?

"Agnes, the guests have already left."

"Eh!?"

"He grabbed the cake and chased after them."

"what--"

"Agnes!? Hey! How are you?"

"I... am completely satisfied."

Chapter Ten: Gang Wars

"Miss, please wait."

For Nesario, simple disguises or preemptive action were not enough to get rid of him; the fresh scent in the air was too obvious, and he easily found the green-haired Miss Felin.

“Oh... sir, according to the romanticism that Victorians love, you should accept my offer and let our story remain at that meeting.”

Miss Felin turned around. Her hair was so long that even such a small movement disturbed it. She smoothed it down with an elegant motion. If she were wearing a dress, she would definitely have captured the attention of the entire street.

"Colonials are like that, impulsive and driven. It's good to keep this interesting encounter in your memory, but this portrait is missing the most crucial element."

Nesario spoke eloquently, and he was now quite fond of the interesting Miss Felin before him—Victoria had inherited the vast majority of Gaul's legacy, which likely included this romantic sentiment. Such pleasures wouldn't be found in Colombia, where interpersonal relationships are very straightforward—and of course, there are plenty of scoundrels who stab people in the back.

"My name is Nesario, and I'm from Colombia. Beautiful lady, could you tell me your name?"

Although Nesario did not grow up in a noble family, he was naturally self-important and always paid great attention to his behavior, and this demeanor was indeed quite elegant.

“Of course—Loselli, that’s my name.”

......

An encounter is just an encounter. Although Nesario made no further plans, the other party might not have the time.

In open Colombia, Nesario could try inviting the other person to join him—in Victoria... that probably wouldn't work; it would be too much for a lady.

That's right, it's not uncommon to encounter such scenery in Colombia.

"It's a pity there won't be any follow-up...that's a shame."

Nesario felt a pang of regret. Judging from the other person's attire, he was most likely a high school student. Although both of them were in Lontinim, the possibility of them meeting again was almost zero.

Nesario was certainly interested in women, as dragons were known for their extravagance in this regard, but he had not yet ventured into such matters—Seria's strict rules forbade him from attending certain parties in Colombia, and he himself had no interest in that kind of decadent lifestyle.

Neltharion's dragon instincts told him that conquering was the best way to deal with the opposite sex.

At some parties in Colombia, groups of young people get so drunk that they can get entangled together; things that are easily obtained only bore Nesario, whose type is probably the Ms. Felin he met today.

"I regret it. I should have been more forward and asked for your contact information."

Regret was useless now; the two had been separated for too long, and Nesario could no longer find the other.

Since it's already too late, there's no point in dwelling on it.

Nesario returned to his good neighbor superhero career and continued his search in the Sadion District, as all sorts of smells flooded his nostrils.

Some smelled pungent, others were fragrant; but none of them had the scent Nesario wanted.

What kind of smell can a gangland give off?

Weapons, of course, have no smell; the smells of iron, wood, and leather are all too common in the surrounding environment. As for certain addictive drugs... those things generally have no odor, and Lontinim probably can't handle that type of thing. So, the only targets are the smell of blood and disinfectant.

Gang fights are no child's play; fists pound and knives draw blood. The medical treatment afterwards will inevitably leave behind these two scents—a conclusion Nesario drew from his experience.

There are only two kinds of places where these two smells are strong. The first is a hospital; the second is where armed forces, gangs, or security companies are located. However, the latter usually have money to go to the hospital, while only gangs have to lick their wounds on their own.

As Nesario continued to wander the streets, he suddenly smelled a strong odor of blood—so strong that it was fresh.

Neltharion charged toward the source of the scent, just like a grotesque dragon that had caught the smell of blood.

Nesario acted swiftly, crossing three blocks to reach the source of the scent.

It was a construction site that had been shut down, and at that moment two groups of people were facing off.

The group on the left is entirely of the Pero race, though perhaps some Rupert are mixed in. They are armed with weapons such as baseball bats, steel pipes, and fruit knives, and number over fifty. The group on the right is mostly of the Felin race, but there are also a few other races mixed in. They are also armed with various weapons, but number only about thirty.

It seems that these two groups are probably the Fang Gang and the Glasgow Gang. Based on the intelligence we have observed so far, neither of these gangs seems to be very powerful.

The reason, in short, is the lack of standard-issue weapons.

Gangs also have different levels. High-ranking gang bosses have connections in both the legal and illegal worlds, and their businesses are diversified. Their family members are equipped with smuggled standard weapons.

Nesario once discovered a packaged set of standard-issue crossbows and sabers in a gang's warehouse—luckily, he caught the smuggler before he could equip them, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to handle so many crossbow bolts by himself. Afterwards, the Ticalendo police considered this arms smuggling case a major achievement; such things are usually bestowed upon them.

The items these two groups are currently carrying are not classified as weapons on Terra. Of course, this may be because there are corresponding restrictions in Lontinim, preventing anyone from crossing the line.

In any case, Nesario decided to sit back and watch the fight unfold.

After the battle, secretly track the defeated side to their lair, and take advantage of their defeat to wipe them out in one fell swoop!

'Wait...doesn't that guy look familiar?'

Nesario spotted a familiar face in the Glasgow gang's group.

At the very front of their group was none other than Miss Aslan, whom they had met once before!

She was still dressed in that sexy outfit, carrying that familiar hammer. Judging from the attitude of the people around her, this girl seemed to be the gang leader.

"..."

A fallen royal has ended up working as a gangster in a slum two city blocks away from his home, and now he has to fight other gangs for territory... What kind of story is this?

Reality is just too strange.

Chapter Eleven: The Fisherman's Profit

It seems that the two sides had a minor clash before, and after exchanging some harsh words and threats, they realized they couldn't reach an agreement and simply stopped talking.

"For Glasgow!"

"Dogtooth Gang! Tear them apart!"

"..."

Metal baseball bats clashed with steel pipes, producing a bone-chilling sound. Fruit knives, gleaming coldly, were swung wildly through the crowd, and the stench of blood grew stronger.