Ark Chess Player.

"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.

"Are you awake? The operation was successful, you are now a girl."

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.

She cried all her tears out that day.

Perhaps in the eyes of the Rhodes Island operators, Kal'tsit really is like an omnipotent god, but in reality, the footprints she left behind all accumulated into pools of blood on the ground.

From any perspective, Warfarin believes that the Doctor must return.

Kal'tsit can no longer shoulder this burden alone; young Amiya is not yet capable of supporting this fragmented Rhodes Island.

"I agree that the Doctor should stay on Rhodes Island."

Ace raised his hand.

Scout also raised his hand.

Even Ayers, who had been persecuted by the doctor and cruelly deceived in his innocent and naive love, and cried his heart out on a beautiful full moon night, raised his hand to show his stance.

They agreed and were willing to let the Doctor stay, and hoped that the Doctor could stay on Rhodes Island indefinitely.

More and more people raised their hands, while a few fell silent and pressed their hands down heavily.

Warfarin's gaze swept across the crowd again, and she slowly pressed her hand down, signaling to put it down.

"last question."

The Blood Demon's pupils suddenly snapped upwards, and a chilling killing intent swept through the entire central control room. Even the blue light emanating from the central computer screen turned a crimson hue.

At that moment, everyone instinctively sat up straight, some operators even reflexively gripping their weapons, ready to fight. They had fought countless Sarkaz people before; during that long period of civil war, the Sarkaz, who were naturally highly adaptable to Originium Arts, were undoubtedly everyone's nightmare.

"If the Doctor falls into demonic ways, those who are willing to kill him, please raise your hands," Warfarin said coldly.

There was silence.

At some point, someone raised their hand, then a second person, then a third...

Finally, everyone raised their hands; whether they were in favor of or against the rescue plan, they all shared the same thought at that moment.

Their reunion here was not only due to Kal'tsit's orders, but also because everyone knew what the out-of-control Doctor might do.

If, just if... if the doctor really changes, in the end, the one who suffers the most will still be him.

Even if Amiya were there, she would still raise her hand.

"It seems everyone is aware of this. As a friend, I am very pleased."

Warfarin shook her head slightly, a helpless smile appearing on her lips, and jumped off the central computer.

“Then, everyone, let’s get to work.” Warfarin took a firm step. “Not to prolong our lives, but to realize our original ideals.”

"I never thought I would hear such inspiring words from Dr. Warfarin."

"It's all because some people are such a headache, really."

Warfarin reverted to her childlike tone, as if she weren't the one who had previously dominated the room.

She pressed her little hand against the isolation wall, but after pressing it for a long time, there was no response, and a big question mark appeared on her little head.

Warfarin looked up in confusion and called out, "PRTS? Open the door."

"By order of the Supreme Commander of Rhodes Island, you are required to memorize at least ten lines of poetry, or you will not be allowed to leave the central office."

Warfarin was furious and pointed at the security camera, yelling, "PRTS! You're defecting!"

"..."

At this moment, for the first time in its AI career, PRTS experienced an electrical fluctuation similar to the human emotion of "being wronged".

“PRTS did not defect.”

Chapter Sixty: Cats and Rabbits

Rhodes Island Ship - Medical Room.

Lin Lu carefully placed Kal'tsit on the sofa in the separate office on the partition of the medical room and draped a blanket over her.

After repeated confirmation from medical operator Ansel, Lin Lu reluctantly agreed that Kal'tsit's bedroom was indeed her office.

Judging from the surroundings, Lin Lu could imagine Kal'tsit, after finishing her busy work, staggering weakly and collapsing onto a comfortable, high-end sofa, falling into a near-conscious sleep. Day after day, she would only stop to rest when her spirit reached the breaking point.

Apart from that, the entire room had no entertainment atmosphere whatsoever, only countless office supplies.

Every day, from starting work to leaving home, it's just a door away—a true role model for the modern-day corporate slave. Never having to worry about being late, the perfect 007 schedule.

In a world like Terra, where blessings abound, even the boss works this hard. What reason do you, as an employee, have to complain? Working until your mental energy collapses at the manufacturing and trading posts is a characteristic of the job; if you're unhappy, don't submit your resume. Rhodes Island, as a conscientious private company that offers one day off per month, has never had any operators complain about it.

After all, the operators who had objections were assigned to security work at the Originium Refinery.

"Professor Kal'tsit needs more rest. Her blood pressure is very high right now, and if she exerts herself too much, her heart may stop beating without any warning... Although I don't know what drug ingredients the reagent she prepared contains, I'm sure that any kind of psychostimulant will have a serious dependency and be addictive. The more quickly a drug can boost one's mental state, the more it will cause an imbalance in the immune system and accelerate physical exhaustion, but people don't notice the changes in their bodies when they are in a state of high excitement."

"It is also because of this medication that the teacher's emotions are often unstable. Sometimes she becomes anxious due to the need to tolerate the drug dependence, which leads many people to misunderstand her original intentions."

Ansel sighed deeply, his cherry-red eyes revealing his sadness.

If he were more knowledgeable, he could share more of the burden with Professor Kal'tsit.

Ansel was born in Rembiton, a city famous for its mining industry. He came from a poor family and had three older brothers and one younger sister. After his mother passed away from illness, his weary father gave him up for adoption to his childless older brother.

To repay his family, Ansel, a medical student at a public medical school, wanted to help them in any way he could. He began treating miners, accepting only food and water as payment, and received countless expressions of gratitude from them. However, his abilities as a medical intern ultimately had their limits.

At the mine, Ansel witnessed workers collapsing during busy operations due to their poor health caused by overwork.

There were no signs of impending death. The middle-aged man, who was wielding mining tools just a moment before, suddenly stopped breathing and died unexpectedly when he lifted the dirty towel around his neck.

Ansel, who was once regarded as a savior by the workers, felt such despair and powerlessness for the first time.

When he exhausted all his knowledge of CPR techniques to try and save the worker, but to no avail, he held the deceased worker's hand, his body trembling. He was roughly pulled away, watching as the worker's still-warm body was dragged away by the mine owner's men. The worker's body left a long, very long trail on the ground.

This was a very simple matter at Rembitox's mines. The other workers would only sigh for a few minutes, feeling a sense of shared sorrow, before continuing their repetitive work.

To prevent a recurrence where a doctor is forced to watch helplessly as a patient's life slips away, Ansel diligently studied medicine. During his studies, he submitted his resume to several large medical companies and research institutes, but due to his family's poverty, he lacked the funds for further education, and his meager resume was rejected by almost all the medical companies.

Until one day he received a message from Ms. Zilan from the Rhode Island Human Resources Department, who formally extended an invitation to him.

With no other choice, Ansel resolutely went to Rhode Island Pharmaceuticals, a newly established pharmaceutical company, for an internship.

During his six-month internship, Ansel's composure, diligence, and excellent focus on medical procedures earned him recognition from Dr. Kelsey, the head of the medical department.

This was Ansel's first time gaining recognition outside of Rembiton's mines.