Ark Chess Player.

"However, just how far has that scoundrel Chaoshan stumbled upon his plans...?"

Bai Huang pulled out her mobile terminal, which displayed a friendly reminder from a friend, seemingly anticipating the BOSS's next move. Three hours earlier, around the time the BOSS went to the Guard Bureau, Chao Shan had arranged for the mercenaries who were resting that day to return to base and await orders. He had even deduced the BOSS's battle location and preemptively removed critical equipment from the area, ensuring basic operational functions were maintained while minimizing losses.

Did Chaoshan secretly read the script?

"I haven't seen it."

On the mobile device screen, the communication software popped up the latest news about the pilgrimage to the mountain.

"..."

Bai Huang silently placed the mobile terminal on the table, refusing to confront the fact that someone had already seen through her and the BOSS's thoughts.

She rubbed her temples and let out a helpless sigh.

Bai Huang pressed the communication microphone and issued instructions according to the friendly reminders on the mobile terminal.

"Defense team on high alert. All platforms at level two alert. Be alert for anomalous containment sites."

"The intelligence team gathers intelligence, observes the movements of enemy forces, and isolates designated areas."

"The medical team is on standby, ready to go to the battlefield to provide support and ensure the safety of personnel."

"Support team, move out and clean up the battlefield! Not a single fragment of the remains of the ALEPH-class anomaly, the Bone Raider, can be left in Lungmen! This is the BOSS's loot! Anyone who dares to steal the BOSS's loot is our enemy, and we'll beat them to a pulp! Move out!"

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.

The sentry gripped the military flag tightly.

The flag, which had been swaying high, gradually slowed down, its fluttering in the wind, and the long pole was planted in the ground.

The sentry knelt on the high platform, his breathing rapid and his body feeling utterly drained. Strange black lines appeared before his eyes, floating and occasionally outlining eerie symbols. His mind was foggy, and his eyelids felt glued together, almost impossible to keep open.

Having continuously used ancient bloodline magic, the Sentinels' bodies were nearing their limits. The more powerful the Originium Arts, the more stamina they consumed. The support spells that could increase attack and defense by 100% were being maintained for such a long time while keeping so many people in this state.

Moreover, once the excitement wears off, mental energy can be severely depleted.

Like someone who impulsively joins a marathon, after the initial excitement fades, all they feel is lactic acid buildup, leaving them feeling utterly numb. Like a salted fish, they question their existence: why did I even participate in a marathon in the first place…?

The sentry was panting heavily as he began to reflect on why he refused to end the spell now that the battle was over.

There is only one answer.

The sentry wanted to hold on a little longer; he wanted to see his comrades a little longer, and he couldn't bear to part ways like this.

The Sarkaz spirits appeared beside the Sentinel, and the Spellsword gently placed his hand on his shoulder.

enough.

it is ready.

Being able to fight alongside you again and witness your growth—what could be more gratifying than that?

The Demon Swordsman had a lot to say, but unfortunately he couldn't make a sound, and he couldn't even comfort the Sentinel.

"I...it's okay."

The sentry gripped the military flag tightly, wanting to hold on a little longer, afraid that if he let go, he would never see them again.

The group exchanged glances, realizing they couldn't let the sentry continue like this. This kid was incredibly stubborn; once he got going, nothing could sway him.

The Sarkaz Vengeful One's shoulders swayed uncontrollably as she gently embraced the Sentinel from behind, her body covered in Originium. Seeing this, the others, as if by unspoken agreement, followed suit and moved behind the Sentinel.

This weight, stacked on the sentinel's shoulders, made him clearly feel that they would always be watching over him. The sentinel should no longer live in the past; he needed to look forward, and his future should not end here.

The vengeful one raised his twitching fingers, and the light of magic condensed, outlining barely legible Sarkaz script on the ground.

"go home."

The handwriting was crooked and messy; it was a very short word, yet it contained everyone's wishes.

Fallen leaves return to their roots.

Even the most warlike Sarkaz people long to return to their homeland.

"I promise you."

A light returned to the sentry's eyes.

“I will definitely bring you back to Kazdel.”

"I promise you..."

"I...promise...to...you..."

The sentry's fingers could no longer grip the banner; his mental energy had been completely drained by Originium Arts, and his brain's self-preservation mechanisms activated, causing him to faint on the spot. But he didn't just collapse to the ground; a pair of hands supported his shoulders, allowing him to rest.

This person was neither Lin Lu nor a swindler, but rather an honest man named Yano.

Arno watched the Sarkaz spirits gradually dissipate before him, then, with his right hand free, he gave them a thumbs-up, resting his hand on the Sentinel's shoulder.

Even though Arno was a loner, he understood that the people in front of him were all worthy of his respect and were outstanding seniors.

Needless to say.

Everything is unspoken.

The Sarkaz spirits returned the same gesture, a habit among the members of the Army Without Borders, originating from the BOSS.

They were unaware that this gesture had another meaning besides praise.

I'm bearish on you.

"So……"

Arno examined the scabbard and 3D Maneuver Gear on his back, then looked at the sentry who had fallen into a coma, and pondered for a moment.

After a long three seconds of thought, he decided to tie the flag of the general's flag together, hang it on the belt buckle on his back, and then lift the sentry up with both hands. Arno was confident in his arm strength. Although his hands were still shaking because of the spinning top he was using, carrying the man back to base was no problem.

To Arno's surprise, the Sentinel was very light; it felt like he could be picked up with one hand.

Arno shook his arms, trying to hold the sentry steady so he wouldn't fall.

At that moment, the sentry's dark green visor slipped off, revealing her gentle and delicate sleeping face.

Arno's hand trembled again, but this time it was a shudder.

"…Girls?"

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.

The border of Longmen, at the junction of abandoned mines.

As night deepened, the ancient blue sky shimmered with countless brilliant stars. The bright moonlight bathed the earth, making everything clearly visible even in the absence of artificial light. Moreover, the closer one got to the edge of the mobile city, the fresher the air became, filled with the fragrance of Originium.

Misha felt as if she had been in a very long, very long dream.

In her dream, she participated in things she had never imagined before. She witnessed the wonders hidden beneath the magnificent city of Lungmen and realized that the world was far more vast than she had ever imagined. She tasted delicacies she never dared to dream of in her life and even took care of a very capable person for a period of time. If the dream had continued like this, it would surely have been a warm and happy dream, wouldn't it? Unfortunately, as time went by, the dream changed.

She kept running in her dream; it seemed that she was running away for the latter half of the dream.

She didn't know why she was running, but many people were chasing her, and she was very scared, so she ran away.

During her escape, some people chose to help and protect her. This was no easy feat, as so many were chasing her that her protectors dwindled in number. Finally, even the girl from Catherine, who looked younger than her, fell, lying on top of piled-up corpses, blood flowing like a river. The girl from Catherine raised her blood-stained face and told her, "Run..."

"——!?"

Misha suddenly opened her eyes.

Her eyes widened in terror, her chest heaved, she struggled to breathe, and her vision blurred.

Misha didn't know how much time had passed before she finally recovered from the nightmare, nearly dying from difficulty breathing. Such sudden death in one's sleep isn't uncommon; rather, it's quite common for people to die from illnesses caused by improper sleep patterns and contorted sleeping postures.

"Where am I..."

Misha realized she couldn't make a sound, and then she understood that her whole body was submerged in a golden liquid, curled up in a position. It was only natural that breathing would be difficult in this position for a long time; just being able to breathe at all was a feat.

"So, this wasn't a dream after all..."

In her hazy, confused state, Misha's last memory flashed before her eyes: to prevent further casualties among Rhodes Island's personnel, while suffering from Oripathy, she had just received an emergency treatment injection and, in a daze, ran out to negotiate a trade with an exceptionally terrifying monster.

Misha is now trapped in the birdcage on the skeleton kidnapper's chest, separated by a layer of golden liquid and layers of white bones, barely able to see the outside scenery. She doesn't know how long she's been unconscious, but judging from the monster's consistently fast pace, she's probably already left the outer ring of Lungmen. If she continues forward, running towards the abandoned lower city, she'll soon be able to leave Lungmen, right?

Dragon Gate...

I never imagined I would be so afraid to leave this city.

Misha, curled up in the skeleton kidnapper's cage, seemed to have become even smaller.

A sense of loneliness and fear welled up in her chest. Despite the fearsome nature of Lungmen, her mind was now filled with the events that had transpired there. Arriving penniless and clueless, Misha was led astray into the slums. Desperate for food, she was nearly tricked into going to the Canary Club. Luckily, the conman arrived just in time and hired her as a helper at a grocery store, providing her with food and lodging.

When Misha saw that a beauty like Asahi was living in such a small, impoverished area, she was terrified. She simply couldn't imagine that someone so beautiful would live in such a place. Moreover, Asahi was very kind to her, like a caring older sister, buying Misha different colored yarn balls so she could pursue her hobbies in her spare time.

On her third day in the slum, Misha met the infected children.

Although their meeting wasn't exactly friendly—the children secretly took a few candies when she wasn't looking—the conman was caught. He was furious, not because the children stole anything, but because they'd been caught!

The swindler immediately called the children to the back door and told them that stealing was a life-or-death matter.

If you want to steal, you can, but you must do it without anyone noticing and absolutely cannot get arrested.

In other places, regardless of age, anyone infected with Oripathy who is caught stealing will be subjected to vigilante justice. Even if they are beaten to death in the street, no one will come to their aid! The onlookers will even applaud, because people stand on the moral high ground, pouring cold water on those caught in a public relations crisis, completely disregarding whether they have actually done anything wrong.

The children were too young to understand what the scammers were saying; they were just crying out of fear.

Of everyone present, only Misha understood the conman's meaning. He didn't choose to condone the children's actions, because doing so wouldn't be for their benefit; it would only harm them. If they didn't learn their lesson, the children who stole the candy would be tempted by the sweet treats and return to this path. They wouldn't be satisfied; once they did it, they would do it again, a third time… but not every time would they escape unscathed.

As an infected person, you are condemned for no reason even if you have done nothing wrong, let alone if you have broken the law.

Later, the conman made the children do a big clean-up, threatening to take them to the Guard Bureau if they disobeyed. The Guard Bureau was like a demon to these children, terrifying them. After thoroughly tormenting the children, the conman gave each of them a piece of candy before leaving. He subtly taught them the proper way to get candy, letting them figure it out themselves, rather than lecturing them.

Children's world is very small, and you can't reason with them.

Only by letting them experience things for themselves can they understand what they should and shouldn't do.

After that incident, Misha changed her opinion of con artists and began to trust this arrogant older man more readily.

The four infected children started coming to the grocery store more often. They no longer made mistakes, but instead asked for permission to help openly, earning their keep through their actions. The conman would always scoff, saying he wasn't a devil and didn't hire child laborers. However, he could find them jobs like cleaning furniture, cultivating honest values ​​in these children even in the slums.

Later, she also encountered Miss Dark Lock, Miss King Killer, and... Lawyer Lin.

Misha's world suddenly became full.

She had always been lonely in Chernobog.

Because of the unforgivable mistake he had made, he hid in the closet and watched helplessly as his mother and younger brother were taken away, never daring to make a sound. His father never returned home, and the whole world was silent, with snow falling endlessly.

Even the time she spent escaping with Rhodes Island was an incredibly precious memory for Misha.

"I... don't want to go back."

Misha hugged her knees and buried her head between her legs.

"Who can help me……"

The skeleton kidnapper's frantic pace came to a halt.

Due to inertia, Misha felt her surroundings sway slightly and raised her head in confusion.

Through Misha's hazy vision, she seemed to see a familiar figure beyond the obstructions.

She instinctively tried to see clearly, but the birdcage was cramped and limited in space, and she could only see the outside scene by straining her entire body.

Misha reached out and stirred the flowing liquid, struggling and twisting, finally managing to lean forward and place her hands on the transparent barrier.

"...Woo."

Misha couldn't tell whether the liquid on her face was the golden liquid or her own tears.

A petite figure stood in front of the skeleton kidnapper.

An ill-fitting blue coat fluttered in the wind, revealing the pitch-black Ark Drive.

Its slender rabbit ears stood upright, its eyes, as blue as the sea, were resolute, and its small hands, adorned with five rings, were raised high.

"Give Misha back to me!"

Amiya scolded.

Chapter 335 Let's get down to business, Exusiai (4K)

"Ah... thank goodness we didn't go straight back to the company, otherwise we would have had to go on a long detour before coming out to carry out the mission again."

Exusiai from Penguin Logistics let out a long sigh, her short, flowing red hair whipped up by the strong wind, revealing bright eyes beneath her bangs. She had exceptionally beautiful eyes and excellent eyesight, able to see figures as small as sesame seeds in the distance without needing binoculars.

Beside her, a stunningly beautiful woman with a chocolate bar in her mouth held a blue mobile terminal, typing so fast that her fingers left afterimages, and a sound came from touching the screen.