Rhodes Island does not exist.

The welding torch flashed with intense light, scattering golden-red sparks.

The flowing molten metal solidified rapidly at high temperatures, adhering to the cracks in the floor slabs and the wreckage.

Originally, as a medical robot, Lancet-2 only had one hose for spraying medical mist, but now these two robotic arms that suddenly appeared next to the hose have completely changed her image as a medical robot.

Looking at Lancet-2, the doctor sometimes wondered: if medical procedures were performed under such circumstances, would Lancet-2 accidentally use its robotic arm to replace the medical nozzle due to operational errors?

No, no, no, it's already like this, why would we make her a medical robot?

Just go straight to becoming a Special Forces or Guard Operator.

But will there really be another opportunity like this in the future?

Realizing that envisioning the future was a luxury under the current circumstances, the doctor couldn't help but give a wry smile.

“The repairs here should be finished in about three minutes,” Kal'tsit suddenly said.

"It's so fast."

The doctor opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say, so he could only give a casual reply.

“Actually, this repair work doesn’t really have much significance,” Kal’tsit said, putting her hands in the side pockets of her coat and looking up at the Lancet-2’s mechanical arm.

“Indeed,” the doctor agreed. “It’s fine to leave it alone, after all, we have a much bigger crisis ahead of us.”

“But we can’t just ignore it,” Kal’tsit said. “It’s like when the body gets sick. If a serious, incurable disease and a minor, easily treatable disease appear at the same time, one shouldn’t give up on treating the minor disease just because the serious disease is incurable anyway.”

"Because an illness is an illness."

Their eyes met simultaneously on the robotic arm that Lancet-2 was repairing, and then they fell silent.

Until Kal'tsit spoke again.

“Provence left you a legacy, didn’t it?”

She never beats around the bush; she always gets straight to the point.

And the Doctor was never surprised by anything Kal'tsit said.

In his eyes, Kal'tsit should know everything he knows and everything he doesn't know.

The doctor nodded, "These are the natural disaster messenger supplies that should have belonged to her."

"Keep it safe." Kal'tsit's tone was calm and even. "Even if Rhodes Island is completely destroyed in this disaster, you must find something to rely on to survive, and then survive."

"You all want me to live," the doctor murmured, recalling Provence's words.

"Don't you hope so?" Kal'tsit retorted.

"I don't know," the doctor shook his head.

"Then remember this: Rhodes Island can only exist if you live."

Chapter 191, A Familiar Encounter

The moonlight was dazzling.

If the doctor hadn't come to the second floor in person, he would have almost forgotten that there was a skylight made of tempered glass somewhere on this extended platform.

"Amidst this sandstorm, it is actually from a vertical perspective, looking up from below, that one can see the two moons in the sky more clearly."

Kal'tsit's voice rang out from the side.

"Is the work on Lancet-2 finished?" The Doctor asked, still looking up, without turning his eyes to Kal'tsit beside him.

“It’s over.” Kal’tsit nodded. “Kroos’s modifications are sometimes useful; at least in terms of efficiency, this was a great success.”

"Are there times when it doesn't work?" the doctor asked curiously.

Although he had heard the strange rumors circulating among the operators, those rumors were always embellished, so he didn't believe them entirely.

That's why he was curious about what the original forms of those rumors looked like in Kal'tsit's eyes.

"Do you care?" Kal'tsit asked him in return.

"Somewhat," the doctor nodded.

“Wouldn’t it be better for you to ask her yourself?” Kal’tsit turned and made a gesture to leave. “You’re going to see her in the workshop on the sixth floor later, right? Since we can get the most direct information from a one-on-one conversation, let’s not waste it on a third party. We don’t have much time.”

As the Doctor said, Kal'tsit knows everything.

Faced with such an answer, the Doctor could only helplessly stop gazing at the night sky and follow behind Kal'tsit.

This is how he usually interacts with Kal'tsit.

The relationship between the two has always been like this, it has always been like this, and it probably won't change even in the distant future.

-

The two people and a machine stood side by side in the elevator car once again.

The doctor stared at the display screen, watching the numbers jump towards his target floor.

The three remained silent.

Perhaps Lancet-2 had something to say, but influenced by the atmosphere between the Doctor and Kal'tsit, she ultimately couldn't bring herself to speak.

"Ding."

The number displayed on the screen is "6".

"I have arrived."

The doctor stepped forward and stood at the elevator entrance, waiting for the doors to slide open to both sides.

At this moment, Kal'tsit suddenly spoke up, addressing the Doctor.

“I will try to spend as much time as possible on the fourth floor during this period, and I hope you will do the same.”

"Fourth floor... a private room? Okay." The Doctor never questioned Kal'tsit's requests or suggestions.

Apart from the time when they went to Chernobog to treat refugees.

In all the time he spent with Kal'tsit, this was the only time he disagreed with her.

The consequences of this contradiction are self-evident.

"Om..."

The door to the compartment slowly opened.

The entryway in front of me was shrouded in dim light, and the shadows deepened.

"Well then, I'll go find Kroos." The Doctor stepped forward, exiting the elevator, bidding farewell to the person and the machine inside.

"Goodbye, Doctor." Lancet-2 waved politely with the medical tube.

"...Aren't you coming with me?" Turning back to stare at Lancet-2, the Doctor pointed to the depths of the entrance hall.

“My primary job is still as a medical robot, so I need to go back to the medical department with Dr. Kal'tsit, and then we’ll head to the fourth floor,” lancet-2 replied.

“Although the problem now is probably beyond what can be solved by simple medical interventions,” Kal'tsit said from the side.

After all, you can't eat medicine.

However, the only good thing right now is probably the sharp decrease in the number of refugees; one less person means one less mouth to feed.

Wait... what am I thinking?

The doctor immediately stopped the completely rational thinking in his mind.

Perhaps influenced by his previous experience in Provence, the doctor's way of thinking is now gradually shifting towards absolute rationality.

But he also knew that, given the current situation, maintaining this way of thinking was almost entirely beneficial.

The only downside is that he has to betray his current self.

"Om..."

The door behind me slowly closed under the watchful eyes of two people and a camera.

The elevator has left.

The Doctor felt that he needed to sort out his chaotic thoughts before meeting Kroos.

-

Passing through the long corridor leading to the entrance hall, one arrives at Kroos's workshop. Under the bright white light of the operating lights, the Doctor stops in front of a workbench piled high with mechanical parts.

The workshop was empty, and the door leading to the inner room was tightly closed.

"It's probably because Kroos hasn't appeared yet," the Doctor thought.

But just as he was thinking this, the door suddenly opened, and a loosely dressed girl swayed out.

"Good morning, Doctor. Lancet-2 told me this when we parted, so I thought you should have arrived at the workshop by now before I got dressed and came out. I apologize if I've been slow." Kroos gently rubbed her slightly tired eyes, dragging a nearly broken old mechanical arm behind her, her tone languid.

"Personally, I don't care... I'm used to your habits." The doctor waved his hand. "So you were sleeping just now?"

“Yes.” Kroos stretched. “You know the situation on Rhodes Island right now. We’re short of food and water. If we want to avoid wasting unnecessary energy, we have to move around less. So when I have nothing to do, I usually choose to sleep.”

As she spoke, she casually tossed the robotic arm that had been dragged over into a pile of miscellaneous items, then straightened her loose clothes and sat down at the workbench.

"You said you had something good you wanted to show me, what exactly is it?" the professor asked.

"Come, sit down." Kroos patted the small stool next to her. "I'll get it for you right away."

"Row."

The doctor agreed and sat down next to her.

A smell of engine oil wafted from Kroos and entered the Doctor's nostrils.

Because he was already used to the taste, the doctor didn't find anything unusual; on the contrary, he felt a sense of relief.

"Snapped."

Kroos pulled something heavy from under the workbench and slammed it onto the table.

It was a black pickaxe, and although it looked old and worn, surprisingly it had no rust at all.

"I found it when I was rummaging through my suitcase looking for food. I didn't expect it to still be there."

"So what exactly is this...?" the doctor asked, puzzled.

"You can tell it's a pickaxe at a glance," Kroos chuckled.

"I know it's a pickaxe, but... why a pickaxe?"

-

Thank you segment.

Thank you for the monthly pass and the razor blade from "Foggy Horn's Idle Talk".

Chapter 192, 191. Driven by Interpersonal Relationships

The Doctor's eyes were fixed on the pickaxe on the table, while Kroos's gaze was fixed on the Doctor.

He hoped to get an answer to this question from Kroos.

"You know how Rhodes Island's foundation came about, right?" Kroos slammed her right hand on the handle of her pickaxe, causing the workbench to thud.

“It was unearthed from Rembiton.” The Doctor nodded. “Without that archaeological excavation, it might have taken decades longer for Rhodes Island to go from concept to a rudimentary reality.”

“So, here you are,” Kroos pointed, “this is the pickaxe I used when I was digging.”

Faced with this answer, the doctor remained silent.

"...Are you serious?"

He was even a little unsure how to respond to Kroos's words.

“Seriously.” But Kroos’s reaction was quite normal.

“No, no.” The Doctor frowned. “Rhodes Island’s mining operations cannot rely on—”

“Idiot Doctor.” Kroos laughed. “I never said that Rhodes Island was dug out by me, one pickaxe at a time. I only said that I contributed to the mining work at the time. Is your thought process locked?”

"...Maybe a little." The doctor sighed.

"Anyway, this tool is a bit old, but it was once a good partner of mine, so I'm giving it to you for a bargain." Kroos pushed the pickaxe on the table toward the Doctor, then cheerfully patted him on the shoulder to show her friendliness.

"I'll give you a discount... I didn't know you were supposed to charge for this."

Although he had a wry smile on his face, the professor did not refuse the half-gift and accepted the pickaxe.

"Of course! How could I, Kroos, work for someone for free?" She stretched out her right hand towards the Doctor, mimicking the gesture of a beggar begging for food, "Give me some, give me some." "Doctor, you have a high position, a good reputation, and all the operators love you so much. You must still have some food left over, right? Give me some, otherwise I'll really starve to death."