Ark Chess Player.

Because his attention was focused on the infected children, he didn't really fight them, but simply left a mark on them and left. Later, when Amiya and the others arrived, he followed the mark and found where they were.

He just didn't expect the scammers to be able to track him down.

“I should have died three years ago,” the sentry chuckled self-deprecatingly. “At Moonlit Lake.”

"..."

The conman fell silent, leaning against the wall, the cigarette in his hand burning down to the end, almost scalding his hand.

He put the cigarette butt in his hand into his portable cigarette case, a professional duty of an intelligence officer to avoid leaving evidence in any place.

The conman considered his options, but in the end he scratched his head and stammered, "No one blames you for what happened back then."

“Heh, heh heh… The entire defense squad was wiped out, and I’m the only one still alive… I can’t even take them home, I can’t go back to Kazdel.” The sentry hugged the flag tightly, and he was suddenly glad that he hadn’t taken off his mask. He imagined that he must look pathetic right now.

Three years ago, at Moonlit Lake.

The sentry's defense squad is responsible for guarding the only passage to the ancient ruins.

This is the lifeline; if it falls, the people conducting the reconnaissance inside will be in trouble.

Therefore, every member of the defense team for this mission is an elite, and according to the Army Without Borders rating, the lowest rank is A-level mercenary.

Sentinel is the youngest member of the squad. If it weren't for his exceptional ability to sense danger and his outstanding performance in the team's reconnaissance, patrol, and early warning missions, he wouldn't have been recruited into this operation.

The sentry will never forget what happened that day.

A blood-red moon hung high in the night sky, and countless monsters emerged from the shadows.

The exit of the ancient ruins collapsed, and the defense team held their ground. Finding themselves unable to break the strange building materials with Originium Arts, they were forced to move the materials by hand. Some defended against the relentless horde of beasts, while others tried to forge a path to survival.

Finally, when a small hole was barely dug out of the collapsed passage, a pupilless eye appeared inside the passage.

Everyone who saw the one-eyed man exhibited strange behavior, including the Sarkaz swordsman who had been taking good care of the Sentinels at the time. His body was covered in a thick layer of Originium in almost half a minute, turning him into a half-Originium, half-human sculpture.

The Sarkaz are highly adaptable to Originium, and also have the highest infection rate of Oripathy. This Sarkaz magic swordsman sensed his impending explosion and decisively decided to commit suicide. However, his hand could no longer grip his beloved sword, so he could only give orders to the Sentinel, who was least affected.

An extremely cruel order.

kill me.

How could a Sentinel who was just the group's darling at the time possibly do such a thing?!

The vast majority of Sarkaz people are destined for a tragic fate from the moment they are born.

Endless war, bone-chilling carcinoma, an incomprehensible existence of peaceful days, and a black earth with nowhere to stand.

It was as if they were taught how to kill from the age they learned to speak and walk. No one told them why they killed, nor why they lived. Every Sarkaz born in Kazdel had their hands stained with the blood of their own kind and those of other races.

The sentinel thought he had finally seen the light, that he could eat and sleep well in the Army Without Borders, and that he could live a carefree life under the care of his Big Brothers. He even had the honor of seeing Princess Theresa and her little follower on the ships of Babel.

everything will get better.

That's what the young sentry thought.

With the efforts of the BOSS and Princess Theresa, the Sarkaz people will surely be able to rebuild their home.

As the Sentinel silently wept, he pierced his sword through his elder brother, the Sarkaz swordsman who would never let him go hungry if he had a meal. The blade was deeply embedded in the Sarkaz swordsman's crystallized chest, severing and shattering his heavy, almost stopped heart.

At that moment, the sentry knew that his dream was over.

If the Sarkaz swordsmen were allowed to self-destruct in their Originium form, the passage they had painstakingly carved out would collapse again, all their efforts would be in vain, and all those who had sacrificed themselves would have died in vain. The Sentinel could only obey orders; he firmly believed that their deaths were for the lives of many more people in the ancient ruins.

This is the first one.

A second order was issued very quickly.

The third, the fourth, the fifth... people kept giving orders to the sentries, but the orders were all the same.

kill me.

In the end, only one sentry remained from the defense squad guarding the exit.

The sentry waited for an unknown amount of time, waving his military flag continuously to repel the monsters that attempted to attack.

At that moment, the boundaries between monsters became blurred.

If a third person were present, they probably wouldn't be able to tell whether the real beast was a twisted, expanding creature constantly born from the shadows, or a blood-soaked person, driven mad by inner frenzy like a moth drawn to a flame, burdened with evil spirits.

It may be just a few hours, or it may be several days.

The Sentinels' long battle came to an end, the blood moon dissipated, and the shadowy objects melted away in the sunlight.

It was at this time that a person emerged from the ancient ruins.

only one person.

Other than that, no more.

"kill me."

The sentry pleaded with the man.

"...to survive."

That's what that person said.

Chapter 245 Survive

"I heard that the BOSS is back."

The sentry spoke slowly, breaking the silence between him and the conman.

The swindler picked up the cigarette pack and lifted it slightly. He instinctively wanted to smoke a second cigarette, but he stopped when his hand touched the cigarette butt.

The smell of just one cigarette was strong enough, permeating his clothes, hat, and skin; he didn't want to bother the children, even though they were already used to the stench unique to the slums, the faint smell of mud and urine.

The conman reluctantly put the half-smoked menthol cigarette back in his hand and replied, "You, a sentry, have better information than I, the intelligence chief. It seems everyone knows. Interested in transferring departments? Our intelligence team is highly skilled and has the best benefits in the entire team, plus special leave."

"...I was informed by the interim leader of the combat team."

The sentry toyed with the crude mask he had removed from the face of the infected in the white robe, his fingers gently tracing the patterns on it.

"She sent me to Lungmen to see how the BOSS is doing."

"Interim team leader?" The conman considered the term carefully, then shook his head. "She still won't admit that Sister Jing is no longer here—"

The conman's mutterings were abruptly cut off by a sharp chill.

He shivered, swallowed the rest of his words, and decided to change the subject.

"And what about you? Don't you want to see the BOSS? Let me tell you, the BOSS has become even more handsome since he came back! I just don't know if his white hair is dyed or what, but Team Leader Baihuang and Team Leader Chaoshan said it's good this way. I have to say, these two are truly worthy of being Yan people... even their tastes are the same."

The conman's rambling was interrupted when the sentry raised his hand to him, signaling that the conversation should end there.

"If I have the chance, I'll ask the boss."

The sentry gripped the military flag tightly, and heavy breathing came from beneath his gray visor, his chest heaving as he suppressed the emotions he had accumulated over the past three years.

"I want to ask him why... why he gave me such a cruel order."

——Survive.

For him, this was the most vicious curse.

The swindler put away the cigarette pack, put his hands in his pockets, and sighed.

"And isn't the BOSS the same?"

Those whose hearts and souls remained three years ago and had not yet returned were not just sentinels.

The sentry fell silent. He had also heard about the BOSS's amnesia, in addition to what the conman had just said.

"Where is the BOSS?" he asked.

"Does the boss need to report to his subordinates when he goes out?" the conman chuckled, but he knew this kid was no longer the one who could joke around, so he said seriously, "The boss has a very important matter to deal with, but as for what it is, I am not qualified to know."

"……Thanks."

The sentry nodded and tossed the mask over.

The conman took it with one hand. He was initially thinking that there was nothing interesting about the Reunion Movement mask, but his smile disappeared after he ran his fingers over the patterns on it.

"This is--"

Consider it a gift for our reunion.

The sentry turned and strode into the depths of the slums.

He paused, then looked up, his gray mask gleaming with a green light.

"These infected individuals are not members of the Reunion Movement."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Longmen Slum, Army Without Borders Safe House.

Amiya stared wide-eyed at Misha in front of her.

White hair! Ursusian! 1.45 meters tall! Beautiful girl!

"Excuse me... are you Miss Misha?"

Amiya asked cautiously, having recently received instructions from Commander Chen to focus the search on this person. She then followed the Kingslayer to the safe house, where she saw Misha, her face filled with heartache, guiding the children into the room.

Amiya's little head showed a big question mark.

After Misha settled the crying children, she stood in front of them and cautiously asked, "Who are you?"

"Please rest assured, we mean no harm. Miss Misha, let me introduce you. These are my colleagues, Miss Franka and Miss Razer."

Amiya pointed to the two people wrestling behind her.

"You're being all over the place! All I did was tie a bow on your head! Is it really that big of a deal?!"

"You, you—it's one thing for you to tie a bow, but you also—"

Razer blushed; she wanted to curse, but couldn't bring herself to say it given the current situation.

She felt her tail was wet, and the base of it ached as if it had been ravaged dozens of times—in fact, Franka had gotten carried away while binding it, and she was thoroughly playing with Thor's tail, exploring it to its fullest extent. The friction even generated heat, and crackling sparks flew everywhere.

"Hehe~" Franka chuckled mischievously. She knew that a straightforward kid like Razer would never reveal the truth in front of many people. For some reason, this feeling made Franka quite happy. It seemed that she could have more ways to play with Razer in the future.

Her gaze lingered on Razer's black pleated skirt.

Why don't we just take off her panties next time?

The thought of Razer recovering from extreme exhaustion only to find himself naked, too embarrassed to say anything in front of others, and forced to silently endure it... Franka's eyes suddenly lit up. The image of Razer, filled with shame and anger yet unable to speak out, naturally appeared in her mind, and her slightly agitated mood instantly brightened.

She felt a sense of mission.

This is not a question of whether or not to take action.

This is a question of when to do it and to what extent.

"What kind of wicked scheme are you plotting now?"

Razer raised an eyebrow, its arrow-shaped tail, with a pink bow tied to the end, swaying slightly.

"Nothing~"

Franka smiled mischievously and turned to greet Misha: "Hello, I'm Franka."

"...Good afternoon." Razer sighed softly, turned around, and nodded politely.

Misha watched them warily until one of the children came over and told her what had happened.

"These older sisters are good people. They saved Sister An Suo and even applied medicine to us..." the girl said timidly, stretching out her arm for Misha to see. Her tender skin, which had been chafed from being dragged along by the young people of Longmen, was now wrapped in bandages.

Misha then nodded slightly to them, her expression softening considerably.

"Thank you for saving these children."

Amiya smiled slightly and waved her hand: "You're welcome. We are Rhodes Island Pharmaceuticals. As an organization that serves the Infected, this is what we should do. I also want to thank you for taking care of the Doctor these past two days, and for your meticulous care of our employees."

"Doctor..." Misha repeated several times before whispering, "BOSS?"

"——!?"

Amiya's heart skipped a beat; she hadn't heard anyone address the Doctor like that in a long time!

Just as Amiya was about to ask more questions about this, a familiar figure burst into the safe house.

"Amiya, the interrogation results are in!"

Doberman hurriedly found Amiya.