Ark Chess Player

"No, no, it's nothing!"

Amiya frantically clutched her hood with both hands, burying her head inside to hide her flushed cheeks.

She hesitated for a moment, then pointed in a direction and whispered something.

"This way..."

On this day, all the operators on Rhodes Island knew that the Doctor had returned.

With Amiya on his left and Kal'tsit on his right, Lin Lu ran off like the wind, leaving the Rhodes Island operators on duty in awe.

Those involved in the Chernobog rescue project watched the doctor leave with admiration, giving him a thumbs up, almost saying, "You're truly amazing."

However, those unaware of the situation might have thought Rhodes Island had been invaded again. Some operators, having heard some unpleasant rumors, anxiously tried to stop Lin Lu. But they were met with a glare from a pair of cobalt blue eyes, their legs went weak, and they collapsed to the ground, drenched in cold sweat, unable to straighten their backs.

"...Amiya, is this Kal'tsit's room?"

Lin Lu looked up at the sign on the door of the medical room. No matter how she thought about it, she couldn't believe that this was Kal'tsit's bedroom. This should be her office, right?

Amiya?

Lin Lu called out twice but received no response, so he put the girl down from his arms.

Amiya staggered, swaying unsteadily, her body radiating heat, practically steam rising from the top of her head.

Seeing the little rabbit's unsteady stance, Lin Lu quickly supported her shoulders and pulled down the girl's hood. He noticed that Amiya's face was unhealthy red, her expression was somewhat blank, and she hiccuped as if she were drunk. She then very proactively reached out and hugged his arm, affectionately rubbing her cheek against his.

"Doctor... hehehe."

"Well, even rickshaws can make you get seasick."

Lin Lu was completely unaware of the unique magic of his hands, and didn't realize it was because he had been holding Amiya for too long.

Holding a large adult and a small child, looking like the head of a family of three, Lin Lu pushed open the door to the medical room.

"May I ask who this is?"

A pink-haired Carter's medical operator slowly turned around, holding a work summary book for the night shift handover. Her fair skin and pale red eyes shimmered like jelly. As she tilted her head slightly in a puzzled expression, the pink and white rabbit ears on either side of her hair fluttered, giving one an inexplicable urge to play with them.

"Dr. Kal'tsit? And Miss Amiya! Um, may I ask who you are... the Doctor?"

"...Hello, Ansel."

Lin Lu gave him a deep look and couldn't help but sigh.

male.

So cute.

It turned out to be a man.

Chapter Fifty-Eight: The Tower of Babel Collapses

"What do you think of the Doctor now?"

Rhodes Island's core forces, the survivors of Babel, and elite operators with extensive battlefield experience sat together, analyzing the Doctor's current situation.

Don't be fooled by their serious expressions, sweaty palms, and tense faces. To put it simply, they were like a homeroom teacher announcing that the last class before school ends would be a self-study period. Everyone pretended to be studying diligently, eagerly watching the teacher leave... Once the teacher was back in the office, they all tossed their textbooks aside and started chatting, playing around, and doing whatever they wanted.

The sweat on my palms was entirely from nervous excitement.

"Doctor... Although she looks very young, I didn't expect her to be so well-developed. Dr. Kal'tsit is so lucky, it's wonderful." A female operator exclaimed.

"Something's wrong with you."

"Tsk, I wasn't the only one watching. And you, your eyes were practically glowing red, and you still have the nerve to criticize me, tsk tsk."

Everyone glanced at a demon operative, but the operative acted nonchalantly, as if he had nothing to lose.

There are plenty of people who lust after the doctor, and the ringleader of these perverts is none other than Warfarin, the Sarkaz Blood Demon who sits atop the central computer, swinging her black-stockinged legs.

Despite her appearance as a mere 12-year-old girl, her childlike voice and small stature often lull those unfamiliar with her into a false sense of security. In reality, she is one of Rhodes Island's veterans. In the absence of Kal'tsit, Amiya, and the Doctor, she has the authority to directly manage the PRTS system and take command of all operators.

As for her real age?

Anyway, no one would believe me if I told them.

"Alright, everyone wipe your drool. We're not here to discuss the Doctor's youthful face and enormous breasts, are we? If you think the Doctor should be expelled, please raise your hand."

Warfarin spoke softly, her childlike voice carrying a hint of sweetness, which silenced everyone present, plunging them into deep thought.

Although some people may want to criticize Warfarin's statement as being too explicit, the latter part of the sentence clearly touches on a fact that no one wants to face.

It was quiet, so quiet that you could hear your own breathing clearly.

There was a full five minutes of silence; not a single person raised their hand.

Even those who voted against the meeting to rescue the doctor in Chernobog amidst such an unstable situation, risking the very foundation of Rhodes Island, now pressed their hands firmly against their knees.

An elite Guardian operator who voted against the decision, a swordsman capable of slicing fallen leaves into fine pieces, was now trembling in the hand.

The human brain is like an unreliable hard drive; some very important things are always forgotten unintentionally and treated as superfluous fragments.

It wasn't until he witnessed that person floating in the transparent device, heard the Doctor speak in that incredibly familiar and nostalgic clear voice, and personally experienced being brutally beaten by the Doctor with those seemingly slender and weak hands using close-quarters combat techniques that could almost twist an elbow off, that the memories resurfaced along with the pain, immersing him in a sea of ​​remembrance.

To put it bluntly, everyone here was picked up by a PhD.

Back then, the Doctor had a less-than-pleasant nickname in the mercenary world: Alloy Trafficker.

Some of the operators were once renowned mercenary leaders, but on a dark and stormy night, the entire mercenary camp was ransacked by the Doctor who secretly infiltrated it.

Unbeknownst to anyone, the mercenaries were knocked unconscious on the spot by close-quarters combat. Those with strength and potential were all lured away by the Doctor, and even the mercenary leader was not spared. When the mercenary leader opened his eyes again, he found himself on the deck of a land-based ship, surrounded by a row of people looking down at him and greeting him warmly.

"You're awake? The surgery was a success, you're a girl now."

This was the standard greeting for new recruits at the time, enough to make any grown man shudder and instantly sober up.

Of course, some people were quite excited. They couldn't wait to find a mirror to see how they looked, whether they were attractive, and whether they could see through the mirror.

"No one raised their hand?"

Warfarin's eyes shone like jewels as she gazed from left to right, carefully observing everyone's expressions.

Elite operators in various locations received a communication from Kal'tsit informing them that the rescue plan had been successfully completed. They immediately put aside their work and returned to Rhodes Island as a group.

After a long separation, the elite operators finally reunited. After learning about the rescue plan from Ace and Scout, two elite operators directly involved, those who voted in favor almost surrounded and berated those who voted against. But even if time were to rewind and another voting session were held, their choices would remain unchanged.

The risk is too great; no one knows if the doctor who awakens is still the same person he was before.

Three years ago, during the final period, military identification tags recovered from the battlefield piled up into small mountains.

This is only what can be recovered. As for the long necklaces that are only half left, filling a whole box, it's almost maddening to look at.

During that period, sacrifices became increasingly frequent, and battles became more and more perplexing, leaving us feeling helpless and lost. Sometimes, getting someone to make a wrong decision is no harder than getting a leader to make a right one. Humans have feelings; they are not machines, much less objects. People hesitate, they think, they ponder many, many things.

"Those who think the Doctor should stay at Rhodes Island, please raise your hands."

As Warfarin spoke, she raised her hand to be the first to express her opinion.

Her reason for raising her hand was simple, and the reason she voted in favor at the meeting was also simple.

Kal'tsit is about to collapse.

With Princess Theresa's departure and the Doctor's enshrinement in a sarcophagus, Kal'tsit was like a widow who had been given her final arrangements and silently abandoned. She had to care for over a hundred children, bearing the devastating news of the world collapsing all alone. To save Rhodes Island, to save these abandoned people, heaven knows how much effort she put in; sleep became a luxury for her.

Previously, Kal'tsit oversaw all aspects of Rhodes Island's ship operations, and the Doctor directed everything on the battlefield. Princess Theresa, as a mascot... no, Princess Theresa, as the core of Babel, supported everyone's beliefs. Everyone longed for the day when the long-suffering Kazdel War would end, and all suffering would cease.

Until that happened.

On that day, the Tower of Babel collapsed.

The doctor's private armed force, the Army Without Borders, has thus lost its leader.

Now, only this ship, which the three originally named Rhodes Island, remains, and only Rhodes Island exists.

Chapter Fifty-Nine PRTS! This is defection!

Even though Rhodes Island has shrunk considerably compared to its original size, its daily consumption is still astronomical.

To survive in this chaotic world, besides taking on mercenary work to supplement their income, they needed to find another way to make a living. Thus, the name Rhodes Island Pharmaceuticals was established. Not only did its reputation for developing drugs specifically for treating infected individuals spread far and wide, but Rhodes Island also took on many very dangerous missions.

For example, one could take on security duties at an Originium refinery, engaging the enemy in a harsh combat environment filled with toxic smog. The air in the refinery is permeated with the smell of impurities from Originium. If an operator's protective mask breaks during combat and they inhale large amounts of harmful gases, even if they are not in immediate danger, their Originium infection rate will inevitably increase.

Which of these tasks—protecting Originium mining, protecting Originium transportation, protecting refining equipment, and protecting mineral warehouses—isn't a matter of life and death?

However, the rewards obtained from these missions are far from sufficient to support Rhodes Island's operations.

Often, only more dangerous missions yield more substantial rewards.

In war-torn regions teeming with mercenaries, bandits, individual armed groups, vagrants, and frenzied infected struggling for survival, Rhodes Island Pharmaceuticals undertakes the escort of private furniture, industrial equipment, precious raw materials, and even international criminals.

Sometimes the enemies encountered are not just those mentioned above; there may even be double-crossing, and betrayal by the client is not uncommon.

In the world of Terra, which only has an intercity network, ordinary information can be exchanged through communication networks. However, classified intelligence concerning private enterprises or even mobile city-states can only be transported over long distances by entrusted agents. Unique equipment is prepared in advance to copy important information, and it can automatically destroy data when an incorrect key is entered. Even if the escort encounters an insurmountable enemy, and even if all combat operators are killed, the owner's goods will be prioritized.

Rhodes Island's development has come at the cost of its operators' lives.

As for the elite operators present, their duties are different from those of ordinary combat operators.

Their mission is far more demanding: to clear out ruins, hideouts, outposts, and strongholds in designated areas, and even to directly storm enemy fortresses and carry out occupation operations. Along the way, they must also ensure the clearing of recuperation sites, reconnaissance bases, mission areas, patrol routes, and strategic passages, ensuring that there are no enemy armed forces before the mission is considered complete.

The skirmishes, guerrilla warfare, positional warfare, special operations, and annihilation battles they experienced were not drills, but real battles fought on the battlefield. The civil war in Kazdel had ended, but their war seemed endless. Every time a blade sliced ​​through their armor and tore away a piece of flesh, it made them abandon their former illusions.

These tasks were previously contracted out to the Doctor's private armed force—the Army Without Borders—and only professionals like them could perform them. However, after the Doctor was laid to rest, a conflict erupted on Rhodes Island, causing the surviving elites of the Army Without Borders to flee, leaving only a few behind.

After all... there are quite a few people who, like W, believe that the Doctor is the murderer who killed Princess Theresa.

Every member of the Army Without Borders firmly believed that the Doctor would not do such a thing, and they almost came to blows over it.

This increased the burden on Kal'tsit's shoulders.

To ensure the survival rate of the operators, Kal'tsit was responsible for both developing medicines and commanding the combat of ordinary operators.

Elite operators require logistical support. Without the Doctor, their human-shaped walking radar, their shortcomings in tactical information are obvious. Only by ensuring the transmission of information through temporary base stations can Kal'tsit provide them with tactical advice, supplies, and terrain reconnaissance intelligence when needed.

Kal'tsit did everything she could to minimize casualties.

Yes, minimize, rather than strive for absolute victory.

Kal'tsit is human, and humans have their limits.

Unless you surpass humanity and become a doctor.

She made mistakes, suffered setbacks in business battles, lost on the battlefield, and failed to save lives in surgeries, but she did not stop, nor did she shed a tear for it.