The Matter of Talula Finding and Adopting Me

"Hey, don't you think you're a little too prejudiced against me!?"

Orson loudly complained. Anyone could see Koschei's attitude had changed because of his bias.

"Then what do you wish to know, my daughter?"

Koschei directly ignored Orson. Over his thousand-year life, anyone who understood statecraft or political intrigue would be crushed by his rhetoric and schemes.

And those who knew nothing about such matters were exceptionally easy to exploit.

As for someone like Orson, whom he could not reason with, could not beat, and whose abilities completely countered his own, Koschei could only use "I can't be bothered with you" as his last shred of stubborn pride.

"The distribution of noble forces within Chernobyl."

Talula stated her request. Koschei smiled, closed his eyes, and nodded lightly.

"Straight to the heart of the matter, Talula. But this time, I will not provide you help for free. If you want intelligence, you must agree to one condition."

"You—"

"Wait, Orson."

Orson started toward Koschei, but Talula stopped him.

"What condition?"

"Very simple, truly simple, my daughter—make this fellow stop bothering me for the next month."

Koschei pointed at Orson. In the end, he still could not hold it in.

Lumen Reaches the High Ground at Critical Health

"I'm still really unhappy about this, Uncle Isaac..."

"?"

Inside the off-road vehicle, Orson drove the powerful ride Talula had somehow acquired while complaining to the Ursus engineer beside him, who knew how to bypass Chernobyl's security checkpoints.

"Normally, an operation like this would involve going with a girl, right? Then the two gradually come to understand each other's hearts during the mission, and when it ends, their relationship goes a step further—!"

"People with fulfilling lives are disgusting. And you think bringing girls to a place like this will win their hearts? Dream on. Hah. Chernobyl is nothing but a respectable grave covered in concrete. At least out in the northern wilderness, I could vent by stomping Originium insects to death."

Engineer Isaac spoke in an impatient, irritable tone. He had probably suffered plenty of unfair treatment in this city.

"Stomping on Originium insects... Brother, you're ruthless."

Orson was already getting PTSD just from hearing about Originium insects. The previous Originium insect uprising in the north had nearly cost him his life. Still, the upside was that he had obtained a pile of unrefined Originium with varying purity, which made getting the Reunion Movement Merchant Guild off the ground much easier.

"As long as you're wearing RIG Engineer Armor, it's fine. And speaking of ruthless people, you're the scariest one, aren't you, Orson? The Silence of the North—I heard that when you fall silent, it means your enemies are about to be completely torn apart?"

Isaac asked curiously. Orson could only give a wry smile at the subject. "That's all exaggerated nonsense."

Yet as he said that, Orson instinctively tugged at the high collar covering his throat and checked that the simulated vocal cords powered by Originium Arts were functioning properly.

After chatting for a while, the two reached Chernobyl's border. Following the coordinates Isaac provided, they quickly found an abandoned entrance at the edge of the city.

Isaac took out a card and pressed it against an inconspicuous access lock. The screen immediately lit up.

Beep—Employee Isaac, good morning. You have been absent from work for 566 days. Please voluntarily proceed to the nearest Enforcement Team station to schedule your execution.

The abandoned gate actually creaked open, leaving Orson dumbfounded.

"It hasn't deleted your account after two years?"

"Because this junk system is older than two emperors combined. Even if it encounters something it can't recognize—"

Beep—Invalid card. Please remain where you are. Security personnel are on their way to silence you...

Thud!

"Like this. Just punch it once."

"...Awesome."

Orson watched Isaac punch the access lock. Its locked screen immediately switched to access granted.

Russian repairs, BEST repairs.

After passing through the abandoned gate, the two entered Chernobyl's underground power district. Isaac searched for the correct maintenance tunnel while chatting with Orson about the history of this city-state.

It was said that Chernobyl was one of the few relatively stable and peaceful cities within Ursus territory. Even so, persecution of the Infected had never stopped.

"Hmph. Only after those people threw me away did I realize that the Infected were merely an excuse. To this city, anyone without value ends up the same way. Those citizens who oppress the Infected have no idea they're the next targets!"

More people like Uncle Isaac had gradually appeared—people who were not Infected themselves, but came to understand after suffering misfortune that the Infected were merely a contradiction artificially created to divide people.

"Forget it... Let's not talk about that. This is a map of the underground maintenance tunnels. I've memorized it already, so take it, kid. It might come in handy."

Isaac handed Orson a blueprint. After glancing at it, Orson immediately noticed a question-mark symbol near the central district.

"What does this mean?"

"That question mark? I don't know either. I only know it's a restricted area with high-voltage currents running through it. Stay away from it, kid. You might run into some strange people."

"Yeah."

Orson put away the blueprint, wondering whether the question mark represented the sarcophagus from the original game—the one that had Rhodes Island's avocado and that Rhodes Island idiot buried in it.

After walking a little farther, the two reached the exit of the maintenance tunnel. Once they confirmed there were no sentries nearby, they successfully arrived at Chernobyl Central Station.

"Whoa..."

For a moment, Orson almost thought he had returned to his original world.

Asphalt-paved roads, speeding four-wheeled cars, bustling crowds, and all kinds of bear ears.

The architectural style and races were different, but Chernobyl was indeed very close to the "modern city" in Orson's memory. After spending two years on the snowfields, the contrast was even more striking.

"Then according to the plan, we'll split up first, Orson."

"Keep your communicator on. Are you really going to be okay?"

Orson was somewhat worried about the hot-tempered engineer. What if he punched someone from the army group?

"The emperor's already been replaced once. No one will care about someone like me. Just hope I don't run into those Internal Affairs bastards."

"Then stay safe. I'll contact you tonight."

Orson said goodbye to Isaac, and the other man hurried away in a rush.

Though he was always cursing this city, he still cared deeply about his family and friends.

"Then it's about time I got to work too. Standing around foolishly in the street will easily attract the police's attention. Getting thrown into a cell right at the start would be too stupid."

Orson cracked his wrists and headed into an empty alley to begin his operation.

His primary objectives were "obtaining a legal illegal identity" and "making contact with the new noble faction."

According to the information Talula had compiled from her conversation with Koschei, Chernobyl's most prestigious family was currently the Rostov family. They were a family that had risen after the Great Rebellion, using commerce as a weapon to join forces with Marquis Boris and seize control of Chernobyl.

When Orson heard the name Rostov, it felt strangely familiar, but he could not remember why.

Besides the rising noble faction that dominated Chernobyl, this city-state was secretly watched by the old noble faction led by Duke Baikal. Those powerful figures who claimed to possess "pure Ursus blood" could not possibly sit back and watch their interests be divided by newcomers.

The old nobility harbored deep resentment toward the Rostov-led new nobility for seizing power. Chernobyl was probably filled with informants from those families.

In any case, his first step was to get an identity through the black market. Then he would find an opportunity to approach the Rostov family. If that black snake Koschei's intelligence was accurate, the Rostov family might be sympathetic toward the Infected.

"Easy to say. In a city this huge, where am I supposed to find someone named Rostov—"

Orson had only complained halfway when his usually passive Wide-area Low Frequency detection skill suddenly picked up several running targets. It seemed like one person was being chased by three to five others.

Were they filming Flower of Hope?

Orson did not pay much attention. He merely stepped aside to make way for the person running toward him from behind.

"Please leave here immediately!"

A girl's voice came from behind Orson. When he turned around, all he saw was a head of pure white hair and mismatched red and blue eyes.

Illustration here. Available after updating the version.

Lumen—no, she should be called Natalia, right? Natalia... wasn't she the young lady of some kind of screw family?

What a lucky break. I really am a man blessed by fate!

Orson gradually understood everything.jpg

"Um, Miss White Bear—whoa?"

Orson wanted to greet Lumen, but this female Weitian did not acknowledge him at all. She kept her head down and ran forward.

"What a bad temper. Is this what the younger generation is like? Let me tell you first, it's a dead end up ahead."

Orson clicked his tongue, thinking young people these days really lacked refinement. Then he saw another group running into the alley.

"Ran into a dead end yourself, did you, young lady?"

That group carried machetes and daggers, and an extremely obvious scent of blood clung to them.

I took one look and—oh, she was being hunted down. Never mind, then.

...No, wait, wasn't this incredibly bad!? Why did it feel like he had gotten dragged into a huge mess less than ten minutes after arriving in Chernobyl?

Watching the killers run toward himself and Lumen, Orson sighed. He used every cell in his brain and concentrated intensely on thinking.

Thinking about what pose he should strike when he saved the beauty.

Enough Already

"Get out of here now, you over there!"

Lumen shouted at Orson, telling him to leave, while looking around the alley that had become a dead end.

"Mm... I can't contact the other guards. Is the signal being blocked? Or rather—why haven't you left yet?"

The white-haired Ursus girl with heterochromatic eyes first anxiously looked at her phone, then discovered in surprise that Orson, this "ordinary passerby," had no intention of leaving.

"Uh, two reasons. First, those thugs have already blocked the way. Second, there's something I'm interested in too."

Orson took a few steps back. At the entrance to the alley not far away, the group carrying cold weapons had already noticed Orson and Lumen.

Orson's gaze did not linger on them for long. After dancing on the knife's edge in the north for more than a year, he could tell at a glance that these people were merely hired hands. The true middleman was the Sarkaz mercenary standing in a corner behind them.

Sarkaz...

Orson frowned. One of the important pieces of common sense he had learned during his time with the Reunion Movement was this:

If Sarkaz mercenaries were standing across from you, it usually meant nothing good.

The overall atmosphere of the Sarkaz nation was one of disregarding life and fighting anyone who defied them. Because of that habit, the Sarkaz were also the nation with the greatest number of mercenaries in Terra.

Although many Sarkaz had become state-employed mercenaries in recent years—that was, soldiers—there were still many Sarkaz mercenaries who prided themselves on being "free" and did the dirty work of independent mercenary groups.

Their bottom line was money, and their methods were without scruples. In some ways, they were even more troublesome than the Enforcement Team and the Ursus military.

"Mm..."

Lumen took two steps back when she saw the group, but her back soon pressed against the cold wall.

How can I contact the others and tell them my location? Or is there any way to get out of this situation?

Lumen forced herself to think of a solution. Orson was somewhat surprised that she could remain calm under these circumstances, but he quickly realized that this girl, who was still a high school student at heart, was merely putting on a brave front. Her slightly trembling body and eyes had already exposed her panic and fear.

"There's a passerby here. What do we do? Kill him too?"

The thugs noticed Orson. With sinister smiles, they discussed how to deal with him.

"The usual. Kill him however you like, grind him up, and dump him into the sewage system."

"...!"

Listening to their conversation, Lumen bit down hard, desperately preventing herself from showing fear or weakness.

As for Orson, he looked bored, as if thinking, Why do all small fry say the same things? He heard lines like these almost every other day.

I thought only the rough northern countryside had people like this. Why are these people still the type to start fighting over the slightest disagreement, even in a big city?

Orson sighed and prepared to deal with these insignificant thugs. But just as he took a step forward, Lumen's somewhat immature voice suddenly came from behind him, trembling with nervousness.

"Wait—I don't know him at all. He has nothing to do with this. I swear in the name of the Rostov family that I'll go with you, so let him leave!"

Although she was panicking over her current circumstances, although the weapons in those people's hands made her sick, Lumen still stepped forward. She had always received a noble's education.

However...