"Pfft—hahahahaha! 'I swear by the Rostov family'? You really have no idea what's going on, little lady. Do you think that noble act of yours still means anything now?"
After hearing Lumen's words, the thugs paid her no mind at all. They merely laughed and mocked this sheltered young lady who still dreamed of being a noble with power and prestige.
"Let me tell you what's going to happen next, little lady."
The thug at the head of the group rested his machete on Orson's shoulder and swaggered up in front of him.
"First, we'll use this machete to chop off this unlucky guy's head. The blade's a little dull, so we might need to hack at it a few times."
"Then I'll toss his head onto you and use a dagger to rip apart that fancy outfit of yours, tailored God knows where."
The thug looked at Lumen like a predator preparing to toy with its prey, wicked and cruel.
"Finally—"
"That's enough."
Orson interrupted the thug and lightly snapped his fingers. A black "curtain" emerged behind him and flashed at a speed too fast for the naked eye to follow.
What happened in that instant was like a light bulb flickering due to an unstable current to ordinary people. But to that thug—
"Uwaaaah!? W-what—my arms!?"
The arms that had been holding the machete a second ago dropped neatly to the ground like trash. The thug flailed his blood-spewing stumps in panic before quickly passing out on the ground.
"Damn it—pugh!?" "What the—cough!"
The other thugs nearby hesitated for a few seconds at the sight before them before remembering to raise their weapons. But Orson gave them no chance. The Silence of the North swung its fists at their chests and jaws, taking down the entire group in seconds.
"...?"
Lumen stared blankly at the sudden, unreal scene before her. The "ordinary person" she had wanted to protect just moments ago had wiped out every enemy almost instantly.
"Interesting—you're not an ordinary person, are you?"
After the thugs being used as cannon fodder had been dealt with, the Sarkaz mercenary finally stepped out from the corner.
"Are you a bodyguard hired by the Rostov family? Well done, but I'm nothing like the small fry you just took out. We're on completely different levels."
The Sarkaz mercenary drew a large dagger with a fuller and serrated edge from behind his back. A disdainful smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"I'm the legend known as the 'Ripper,' young man. When I tear your body apart from the top—"
"Rest Note, punch him."
Boom!!
Before the Sarkaz mercenary could finish showing off, the utterly impatient Orson controlled his shadow to slap him directly into the wall, where he was embedded so deeply he couldn't be pried out.
"These people really talk too much... Anyway, let me ask: was this a robbery or an attempted assault? Jujube... cough, cough, Miss White Bear I don't know?"
"Huh? Um, it was probably an assassination attempt by the old noble faction... They've been getting more and more aggressive. Sorry for dragging you into this. I'm Natalia. And you are?"
Lumen was taken aback by Orson's question before answering uncertainly.
"Just call me Orson. I used to be—an elite security guard, then I got kicked out. I'm currently job hunting."
Orson casually made up an excuse.
"What a coincidence. In any case, let's get out of here first—"
"Where do you think you're going~?"
Just as Orson and Lumen reached the entrance of the alley, a woman's voice drifted over from behind them, carrying a teasing, mocking tone.
"Those people were complete idiots, sure, but having them wiped out just like that would make me look bad too. How about we each take a step back and you obediently let me kill you?"
A new assassin had appeared. Lumen was worried and afraid, while Orson stepped in front of her with an unruffled expression.
"Don't worry, leave this to me. Let me show you how a professional security guard stays calm in the face of danger—danger, danger, danger... bluh bluh."
Before Orson could finish showing off, the sight before him frightened him so badly that he could barely speak.
That collapse was way too fast!
Lumen screamed inwardly, growing even more panicked at Orson's reaction.
What had this young man seen that left him so shocked?
For Orson, what he was seeing truly exceeded all expectations.
He saw...
A huge cockroach with highlighted hair.
There is an illustration here. It can be viewed after updating the version.
What does it feel like to accidentally grind favorability into the negatives?
(This chapter has been revised. Please refresh.) "Da-da-da-da-da, Boss Lopen?"
Orson's eyes were wide as he stared at the female Sarkaz mercenary in front of him with an expression that screamed, "No way!"
"Hm? Am I already that famous? Well, well, thanks for your attention. As a reward, let me use this bomb in place of an autograph~"
Known as "W," a troublemaker who played a significant role in the game Arknights and repeatedly switched sides between Reunion and Rhodes Island, she tossed a bomb at Orson without hesitation, wearing a fake smile.
"Honestly, I'd rather touch those two antennae on your head than get an autograph—Rest Note."
A black shadow stretched out before Orson, then was tuned to become as hard as steel.
KABOOM!
The deafening blast and roaring flames exploded right in front of Orson and Lumen, only to be blocked and neutralized by Rest Note.
What world's storyline am I even in right now?
As Orson protected Lumen from being caught in the blast radius, he considered the situation he was in.
First of all, Orson was certain that there had never been a scene like this in the original work. Lumen being assassinated was ridiculous enough, but the assassin was W? It made no sense considering how the later plot developed.
What variable had caused all this? If my existence changed the course of events... then the direct reason for this situation was that Reunion hadn't become the extremist group it was in the game?
There were too many doubts, and the current situation did not allow Orson to think things through carefully.
Boom—!!
"Mm!"
Lumen let out a short cry of pain. The violent explosions made her eardrums sting.
"Tch... Let's get out of here first. Stay close to me."
Orson grabbed Lumen and fled the alley. Along the way, he had to keep using Rest Note to block the explosions, even tuning the shockwaves themselves to reduce the damage they took.
He could not let Lumen be killed by W here, but he also could not kill W. Therefore, the only thing Orson could do was run.
But Orson, who had only just arrived in Chernobog, and Lumen, who rarely wandered around the city, did not realize that their escape route had also been carefully planned by W's precise demolitions—
"Damn, we walked right into it."
Only when the two discovered that the building ahead was an abandoned stadium awaiting demolition, with deep pits already dug around it to collect rubble, did Orson realize that W had deliberately driven them here.
"I don't know what your Originium Arts are, young man, but if enough explosives to blow up half a stadium attack you from multiple angles, you won't be able to escape so effortlessly anymore, right~?"
W's voice drifted from far away. At this point, Orson had to admit that he no longer felt even the slightest joy of being a W fan. All he felt was irritation and anger.
Come to think of it, he had failed to pull W back then. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got.
Even clay figures had their limits, let alone someone like Orson, whose temper had never been particularly good. After being chased and bombed by W all the way here, Orson was burning with rage and desperately needed an outlet.
"Natalia, hide here. I'll deal with her. Stay put and don't go anywhere."
"Um, are you sure you'll be okay?"
Lumen looked at Orson's back with concern.
"Daijoubu, moeta nai."
Orson tossed out an old meme that had become a relic of another era, then headed toward the only entrance where W was waiting.
"Hey! Sarkaz mercenary over there, I don't know how many bombs you planted, but can you listen to me for a second—"
Boom!!!
Orson gave a French military salute while attempting to talk to W, but before he could finish, a grenade shell hit him straight in the face. He could only barely block it with Rest Note.
"That black thing is really annoying. Is it your Originium Arts?"
W ejected the shell casing from the chamber and mocked Orson's bedraggled state.
"More or less. Anyway... let me finish. Can we call a truce for today? For certain reasons, I don't want to fight you, but that White Bear girl over there is connected to me too."
Veins bulged on Orson's forehead. He suppressed his anger as he continued trying to reason with W.
"Hm... of course we can~"
W pressed a finger against her chin and put on a thoughtful expression before smiling and agreeing.
"Really?"
"That's right. Just let me blow you into mincemeat, then take that girl's head away."
W revealed a cruel smile and reloaded her grenade launcher before pulling the trigger at Orson again.
"...Fine."
Orson commanded Rest Note to cut the unexploded grenade shell in midair cleanly in half, then ordered Rest Note to return to his shadow.
"So that means we have a deal, right? Then I'll be taking your life."
W smiled as she took out a detonator and lightly tossed a C4 charge at Orson.
The C4, flashing red, flew toward Orson in a slow arc. This time, however, that invisible black entity did not appear.
"I mean there's no room for negotiation—Curtain Call."
Orson placed a finger against his lips in a silencing gesture.
The next second—the violent explosion W had expected, one loud enough to be mistaken for an abandoned building being demolished, did not come.
The bomb tossed at Orson did not explode, nor did the high-yield mine buried by his feet.
"...What did you do?"
The smile on W's face became less natural and relaxed.
"..."
Orson did not answer. The young man whom W had initially considered the "talkative type" had become completely silent.
Was that effect also this guy's Originium Arts? If so... he's fast!
"Mm—!?"
A second ago, W had been trying to reload her grenade launcher. The next, Orson was already in front of her, a dagger pulled from nowhere mercilessly piercing the hand that held the trigger.
This young man's explosive physical power was far more terrifying than his appearance suggested. Even the way he accelerated seemed to defy the limits of the human body.
"You...!"
W drew a short blade from her waist with her left hand, but before she could take a stance, Orson knocked that hand aside with his elbow and pinned her to the ground.
Slash—squelch!
"Argh!!"
Orson pulled the dagger from W's right palm and immediately pressed it against her throat.
"You... were you pretending the whole time?"
W questioned Orson, but he remained silent, merely staring at her with those pitch-black eyes.
A bone-deep chill surged from W's heart. The silent man before her was like a soundless grim reaper.
The concept of "death" was clearly imprinted in W's mind. All she wanted now was for him to give her a quick death.
But Orson did not stab the dagger into W's throat. Instead, he finally spoke again:
"Waaah! She's so strong! Amazing! I'm bleeding everywhere! I can't beat her! Where are my teammates? Teammates, save me!!"
"...??"
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