Being Picked Up and Adopted by Talula

I don't know what Jun Jun and Sui Gu are up to right now... Orson believed that since he was the one who changed Reunion's trajectory, he was also obligated to gather the original cadres together again.

Mainly, Orson also wanted to personally torment Jun Jun and change his current situation as Reunion's mascot and the bottom of the persecution chain.

"Lastly, about that underground question mark area I told you about before, a colleague from the maintenance team just informed me that there have been several unauthorized remote accesses there recently."

"Remote access? Could it be Rhodes Island? No, I can't be sure yet—Ugh... I can't anymore."

Isaac watched the young man in front of him, thinking for a long time before his brain finally crashed, and he slumped onto the table, gradually turning into a puddle.

After all, normally this was the job of Alina and Talula. He himself, like FrostNova, would just "fight enemies with enemies!" and be done with it.

Kazimierz City's current complex power distribution had exceeded Orson's CPU processor's limit.

"In, in short... thank you for your help, Uncle Isaac. This is the advance salary the Rostov family gave me. Take it first to solve your survival problems."

Orson pushed an envelope to Isaac, who didn't refuse.

"I won't be picky with you about these things. I'll take the money for now, as my old home is without water and electricity and is uninhabitable. But I'm more curious about when we're going back?"

"It's not certain yet... the situation is too complicated right now. Uncle Isaac, aren't you planning to stay in Kazimierz City again?"

Orson asked curiously. In fact, he had already prepared himself for the engineer uncle to completely lose contact after arriving in Kazimierz City and go back to his own life.

"How should I put it... I think I understand Reunion's goals now. I don't even have a home or family anymore, so the least I can do is to prevent others from becoming as useless as I am. After all, Infected... were originally just ordinary people."

Although Uncle Isaac understood the nature of Reunion's existence, Orson couldn't be much happier.

Everyone on this continent had their own despair. Orson didn't know how much Talula could change, but he would follow her unconditionally.

After meeting with Isaac, Orson sat in his chair, idly playing with the noodles in his bowl, and spoke softly.

"You don't need to hide. I can sense it, very obvious killing intent."

"Ha, as expected of the guy ranked fourth on the most annoying list."

As Orson spoke, W stood up from the booth and slowly walked up to Orson, a smile on her face that always made people feel uneasy.

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W sat down in front of Orson, only to find that the guy she swore to kill in the most painful way possible was actually...

Looking at her with a surprisingly happy expression?

"Are you that happy to see me, shadow manipulator?"

W decided not to let the other party affect her pace and asked Orson casually but provocatively.

"Yeah, I thought I was already number one on the most annoying list. I didn't expect there to be three people ahead of me. It's much better than I imagined."

Orson said happily.

"Normal people wouldn't be happy about something like that... Also, the people ranked first and second probably can't find replacements."

W said casually as she picked up the menu.

After all, among the two people she hated the most, one was the environmental reason for Theresa's death, and the other directly led to the assassination of Princess Theresa.

Recalling the past for a moment, the permanent smile on W's face disappeared for a brief instant.

—Think of happy things, and smile again. For example... the fact that she might soon be able to kill another person she hates the most.

W looked at Orson in front of her, her fingers lightly resting on the detonator in her pocket, and a smile reappeared on her face.

39. Password Correct

"Waiter, two Long Island Iced Teas~"

"Um, I don't drink..."

W naturally ordered two drinks for the waiter, while Orson awkwardly waved his hand, indicating he couldn't drink.

The last time he had alcohol was at a gathering after Alina woke up. He remembered drinking half a glass, and the next thing he knew, he was in a tent experiencing a fire and ice situation (meaning being used as a pillow by FrostNova and Talula).

"You're in a profession where you lick blood from the edge of a knife, but you don't like to numb your nerves? Could it be that you're still a kid like your appearance suggests?"

W's smile was full of mockery. Orson couldn't stand it after hearing that.

"I'm 20 years old! It's just a cocktail, watch me—cough cough cough!"

Orson picked up the cocktail the waiter handed him and almost choked to death after taking two gulps.

"..."

W blinked. This guy really couldn't handle alcohol.

"Cough cough... Sorry, I embarrassed myself, but the taste is quite good, it tastes like a drink."

Orson awkwardly commented on the cocktail W had ordered, then stared at W earnestly.

W kept her finger on the detonator. If Orson made the same "move" as last time, she would immediately detonate the surrounding traps to prevent his inexplicable Originium Arts.

"First of all—I'm really sorry about last time!"

"...Huh?"

W, who was concentrating, expecting Orson to use [Curtain Call], was stunned. Not only did he not make the 'hush' gesture, but he immediately performed a Chibaku Tensei: he clasped his hands together and bowed his head in apology.

"Is your hand okay now?"

"Ah, thanks to your care, it healed not long after I got back. Want to try holding it?"

W provocatively extended her right hand in front of Orson, but Orson, completely missing her sarcastic tone, earnestly took W's outstretched hands.

"Hmm... I really can't tell you were injured, but I still feel a bit embarrassed—oof!"

W quickly pulled her hand back, staring at Orson with a look of utter disbelief.

What's wrong with this guy?

"I mean... is there something wrong with your brain? Last time, and even now, I've genuinely wanted to kill you, you know? Or is this some kind of boring strategy of yours? Trying to confuse me with this idiotic act?"

W looked at Orson, questioning what exactly was wrong with him.

In reality, it wasn't entirely Orson's fault. Talula, Alina, and FrostNova, who were around, were all very direct in their speech. Talula and FrostNova were particularly blunt and simple-minded. The only one who spoke sarcastically was Black Serpent, but Black Serpent had developed "Orson PTSD" and would become withdrawn upon seeing Orson.

In such an environment, Orson's ability to understand sarcasm was naturally insufficient. Forget about retaliating; he couldn't even detect W's sarcasm.

"I understand, it's a mercenary's job, after all. But outside of work, I would still like to get along well with Miss W."

Orson said cautiously, taking another sip of his Long Island Iced Tea, then suddenly realizing something and showing a nervous expression.

"Could it be that it's work time now, and your target has become me?"

"...Not exactly. In a sense, it is indeed personal time right now."

W sighed, released the detonator in her palm, and placed her left hand on the table as well.

"Then what is Miss W here for? Did you just happen to run into me here by coincidence?"

"Ha, there aren't that many coincidences in this world. But thanks to a certain someone, I'm too lazy to fight you to the death right now. I'm just here with good intentions, wanting to get to know each other better, you know?"

Although she was lying through her teeth, W's statement was true. After the previous commotion, W was too lazy to test Orson's Originium Arts anymore.

After all, for W, her goal this time wasn't to fight Orson to the death. These pre-planted bombs were more like her precautions, or perhaps... a twisted sense of humor.

"Well, I also wanted to find an opportunity to have a good chat with Miss W. Since we've reached an understanding, then Miss W should also disarm the bombs you planted around here and put them on standby."

Orson had sensed W's pre-planted traps and the detonator in her pocket from the beginning. However, even so, Orson didn't directly engage W in combat. Orson was afraid of affecting the others around him, and as a result, Orson's "non-resistance" had indeed averted a fight.

"I'm not a murderer. Those are just sonic bombs. As for you, you're still really annoying."

W tossed the detonator onto the table, then brought the cocktail to her lips, enjoying the mild alcoholic stimulation that even a dullard could appreciate, while analyzing the young man's specific trump cards.

His observation ability is very strong, outrageously so. But in contrast, his ability to erase traces and counter-track is only at an ordinary level. Is it related to the nature of his previous work?

At the same time, Orson was also observing W, holding his Long Island Iced Tea, contemplating how to converse with this mercenary.

Orson didn't intend to discuss the "password to wealth" with W. The name "Theresia" might be the correct password for Babel members, but coming from him, an outsider, it would likely only provoke her.

Ultimately, W's ideals and the current Reunion did not align. Reunion's goal was to unite Infected and ordinary people, eliminate discrimination, and eradicate injustice, thereby achieving better living conditions.

W, on the other hand, probably just wanted the Sarkaz race to have the right to choose death.

She's such a dedicated Theresia fan, but what is she a fan of?

However, conversely, if he could utilize W's objective, it might not be impossible to pull her into Reunion...?

"In any case, what is your objective this time, Miss W?"

Orson asked W, shaking his head slightly in confusion.

"It's very simple. Garson, the leader of the Sarkaz mercenary group hired by Duke Baikal, might come to cause trouble for you personally soon. Be sure to entertain him well~"

"Mercenary leader...? Why are you telling me this information?"

"On one hand, do you remember what I said earlier? You are fourth, and that guy is third. By telling you this information, I might be able to eliminate two people I dislike at once. On the other hand, it's because—"

A wild and ferocious smile spread across W's face.

"I have never suffered such humiliation. You absolutely cannot die at his hands. I will personally blow off your limbs with bombs, and then use a dagger... Hey?"

"I know... Zzzz... hiccup. Zzz... hiccup."

W, who was in the middle of speaking wildly, suddenly noticed Orson, who had been acting strangely for a while. Orson's face was flushed red, he was nodding off like a pecking bird, and his drink was a quarter empty.

"Your alcohol tolerance is abysmal!!"

"S-sorry... hic I'll sober up—thump!"

Orson's head hit the table. The impact barely managed to make him slightly conscious again, but he quickly fell asleep again.

"..."

This is the guy I set a trap for two hours ago, the one I decided to have a good fight with? I feel like I'm the idiot...

W poked Orson's cheek. He squirmed slightly, then became unresponsive again.

W poked him again, and like a cuckoo clock, he made a strange "hmm-ooh-gururu..." sound.

"Haha, what an interesting guy. In that case..."

A dangerous glint flashed in W's eyes. She walked to the restaurant bar, picked up a glass, and then... filled it with ice.

"I win."

"Mmm-mmm-Ooooh!?"

Orson, stimulated by the ice suddenly stuffed into his clothes, sat up.

"Awake?"

W asked Orson with a smile. He nodded while shaking the ice out.

"Listen up. I originally wanted to have a good fight with you, but that's not important anymore. What I'm more curious about is why you rarely kill those Sarkaz mercenaries, only incapacitating them?" W asked Orson, dropping her smile. Most of the mercenaries sent to assassinate Lumen had been found intact and without lasting consequences. Although, a small number of them had their limbs severed by unknown weapons.

"Hmm... Firstly, even though I hold grudges, I don't like killing people. Secondly, it depends on the person. Many mercenaries are just trying to make a living. Since I have the ability to protect Lumen without killing them, I naturally do so."

Orson replied, still a bit groggy as he rubbed his eyes.

"Oh? You think those Sarkaz have the right to live too?"

Orson's answer made W raise an eyebrow.

"Everyone has the right to live—except for some truly scum. But whether they're Sarkaz, Infected, or anyone else, everyone has the right to live."

Orson stated his inner thoughts plainly, and W fell silent for a moment.

W, without her usual smile, made Orson freeze for a second.

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"—As expected, you're someone worth killing with my own hands, but not today, Orson."

But it was only for a moment. After a brief silence, W resumed her smile and got up, preparing to leave the restaurant.

"Consider it a buy-one-get-one-free bonus—among the guards by your side, there's someone from Baikal."

"Baikal...? Wait a moment, Miss W—"