Chlorine Sodium's Arknights

No, even a clown would rob a bank, only to burn all the money he stole afterward.

Making evil his lifelong pursuit and constantly striving for it, his greatest joy is the complete destruction of Batman, the opposite side of the same coin from himself.

But what about Koschei?

What exactly does he intend to do?

Never mind.

Choosing to rest with her eyes closed in the back seat of the landship, the woman now known as Ina waited.

The vehicle drove into the central district. She rarely came here, partly because there was no need to draw attention to herself, and partly because she disliked it.

It was too noisy, with too many eyes and ears, completely contrary to her aesthetic.

Someone who craves peace would not choose to settle in a noisy place.

After much winding and turning, the assigned landship finally stopped in front of a rather imposing building.

Little Wall Street, of course, that's what people called it. In reality, it was just a central street. However, because it was lined with banks and the branch offices of major commercial groups, it earned the name Little Wall Street.

And here, several buildings belonged to the Taiko Group, while the one in front of them was one of their seven-star hotels.

It was also Lungmen's only seven-star hotel, a testament to its extravagance.

But why here?

Chlorine Sodium had expected to go to the other party's residence.

[Oh right, remember to keep smiling at all times.]

This was Koschei's friendly reminder before she left.

Ina wasn't naturally cold-hearted, so she had to act the part.

What a bother.

Still, she could take this opportunity to confirm whether this person, whom she would likely never meet again, was indeed the one she was looking for.

Without revealing your hand, you hold the most advantageous bargaining chip in negotiation. Your opponent will never know what cards you hold, which allows for the possibility of playing the pig to eat the tiger.

But this place was truly luxurious.

Immeasurably luxurious.

The marble floor gleamed like a mirror, the walls adorned with countless gold leaf accents framing world-famous paintings, and a crystal chandelier hung from the dome. Everything screamed opulence, eager to inform customers of the taste and status of the establishment from the very first step they took inside.

Consistent with it, or inconsistent with it.

Very bright, very luxurious, very expensive.

Unfortunately, the taste was rather poor.

Chlorine Sodium, a villain who preferred a peaceful life, wouldn't appreciate this kind of ostentatious display.

However, it was also evident what kind of assets and influence the owner of this place possessed.

This was probably a manifestation of power and authority, much like how dragons love to slumber upon their treasure hoards, or how kings erect statues of themselves in the center of their cities.

It was roughly the same principle.

"Excuse me, do you have a reservation?"

The receptionist, equally well-trained, greeted the potential guest with the most practiced smile.

"I am Ina. Ina Koporovich Zhozhiyaeva. I believe there should be a reservation under my name."

As she spoke, she presented an invitation enclosed in an exquisite envelope.

"Ah, please wait a moment."

The meaning of the envelope was self-evident. The receptionist didn't even need to ask. The hotel manager, with a fawning smile, spoke this time. He made an internal call and said something.

"Please, follow me."

A property of the Taiko Group, Lungmen's largest hotel. Even the elevator ride was a convoluted journey.

Cold light shone down from above. Chlorine Sodium remained silent, leaning casually against the elevator wall. The lobby manager guiding her also had nothing to say. Naturally, in the not-so-narrow but completely enclosed metal space, only the sounds of the traction rope and motor could be heard. The cold lighting and the constantly changing numbers created a sense of immediacy, as if a horde of zombies would rush in the moment the doors opened.

Too bad this wasn't a scene from a zombie apocalypse movie.

Some time had passed. Was the elevator taking this long?

Chlorine Sodium didn't know how many floors the building had, but it clearly shouldn't take this long.

It wasn't until the electronic screen above the elevator doors stopped displaying floor numbers and began using letters instead.

This area, it seemed, was likely not accessible to regular customers.

With a "ding," the doors slid open. However, the lobby manager did not step further. Instead, an elderly man resembling a butler appeared outside the door.

"You must be Doctor Ina. We've been expecting you. Please, follow me."

Chapter 64: Chapter Sixty-Two [Carrot and Stick]

Magic is a profound art.

It requires talent, instruction, and money.

To learn true Originium Arts, rather than just crudely channeling the energy within Originium with crude, primitive methods, ordinary people would have to find a way to enter an academy and learn some "common" spells.

The reason they are "common" isn't that they are poorly made, but rather that they are very fixed.

It's like there are ten subjects, but ordinary people can only choose one from the first or second to specialize in.

It's not that the remaining eight subjects require higher tuition or can only be studied after completing the others.

It's just that no one teaches them.

They aren't lost arts; they are simply, genuinely, not taught.

Spells aren't tools in the truest sense, nor are they a form of academic study or knowledge.

They are secrets, synonymous with mystery.

Existing between the possible and the unknowable, between thought and faith.

Every family that possesses such a secret passes it down incompletely, and never shares it externally.

There are quite a few such families, but each has its uniqueness.

And their origins cannot be traced; these things are ancient beyond tracing their roots.

These secrets, which are passed down within families and cannot be quantified or analyzed, cannot be put into books, let alone spread externally.

Therefore, the profession of Arts Caster is quite valuable, not in terms of mass production, although expensive, they are not combat Arts Casters that are hard to find.

Rather, it refers to a specialized system of functional spells with a particular trait.

Thus, a simple doctor is already in high demand, and a doctor who is both an Arts Caster and a doctor is even more valuable.

No one would refuse such a doctor to treat them.

Even for maintenance, it's worth every penny, because they are simply too rare.

The Originium Arts of normal people are at most limited to controlling drones, while these individuals can search thoughts. The gap is so vast that it has become a monopoly of knowledge.

But there's nothing that can be done, as this system is what maintains every corner of Terra.

It has even become integrated with the local culture, inseparable.

This is likely one of the highest levels, where ordinary people cannot reach. The thick, hand-woven carpet makes footsteps silent.

This appears to be just a temporary residence. After all, the Taiko Group's headquarters are in Victoria, and the owner of the Taiko Group is also a prominent Victorian noble. Naturally, this could only be a temporary residence.

But even as a temporary dwelling, it is decorated so luxuriously, reflecting the class disparity across this land.

If the villages on the Ursus wastelands are like medieval Europe, then the city of Lungmen is like a cyberpunk city, with technology, but more of it is covered in dust and the products of everyday life.

And this place, it's like stepping into the residence of a noble in a steampunk world – luxurious, filled with classical taste, understated yet brimming with expense.

Pushing open a door, the old butler finally led her to the core of this place.

A wooden door with a beast horn from an unknown creature hanging at the very top.

It does have the feel of a hunter's cabin.

Perhaps this Victorian noble enjoys hunting.

"Master, the guest has arrived."

An old man was seated within.

He wore a suit, and a sleek pen was tucked into the pocket of his chest.

No, the word "old man" is not quite fitting.

His hair was silver, not a natural color, but the trace of time gradually draining its hue, the slow mark of aging.

Yet, there was no trace of weariness in the old man's eyes.

Instead, they were sharp and still full of ambition.

The smile on his lips carried the innate arrogance of a Victorian noble, along with a touch of humility.

After all, they were nobles; even with feigned humility, they wouldn't casually reject a stranger, let alone someone who was a successful businessman.

"You may go, A'fu. Thank you for your trouble."

A'fu?

Are you Batman???

Perhaps it was a coincidence of names, or do all butlers in the world get called A'fu?

"Doctor, or should I address you as Ms. Ina?"

He was searching for the right words to address the young woman before him, naturally, it was also a more fitting opening remark; sociability was the first foundation of nobility.

"Ina is fine."

The doctor merely nodded coldly, appearing to be a woman of few words.

This was good. Few words often represented silence and restraint, which was how doctors and scholars should be.

"I recall... you..."

"Oh, excuse me. I haven't stated my surname yet. My family is very low-key, so most people only know the Taiko Group and not the name of the family behind it."

"If you don't mind, you can call me Semior."

This was his name, and he still hadn't revealed his surname, but that didn't matter.

"Then let's begin. I recall my main profession is related to psychological suggestion and self-anchoring. Have you been having problems in this area recently?"

"Of course, of course. Doctors are truly dedicated. But before that, I'd like to ask for your opinion, Doctor."

My opinion?

He hadn't even asked about any problems yet, and he was already asking for my opinion?

However, Chlorine Sodium wasn't in a hurry. No one knew what this old fox was planning until he revealed it to outsiders.

As he spoke, the old man took out a slip of paper from his pocket.

"A veteran, highly influential, and respected Arts Caster who also works as a doctor. How much would they earn in a month? If I recall correctly, around 200,000 Lungmen Dollars a year, right?"

He didn't give Ina any chance to answer, or rather, he didn't want any answer at all. He just posed the question, and that was it.

As he spoke, Semior casually wrote a string of numbers on the slip of paper.

"Two million. Ten years' worth of salary. This is a bearer check from the bank. You can withdraw these two million Lungmen Dollars at any bank. It's enough for you to buy land and settle down in your hometown, and live out your retirement."

It was indeed enough for retirement. If they really had this money, for an ordinary person, it would be at a level where they could start planning their life after success.

Keep in mind that 200,000 was the salary of only the highest-level doctors. In Lungmen, there were only a handful of people like that. An ordinary person might have to struggle for most of their life to save such a huge sum.

If that Ina were actually here, she might start sweating in her palms and her eyes would turn black, given how sudden the surprise was.

However, Chlorine Sodium remained unfazed. She just stared at the check, then raised her eyes to look at the seemingly kind face.

She probably understood what the man was up to.

This was a fishing hook, and it all depended on whether the doctor in front of her would bite.

She herself had come here for her own needs, so there was no reason not to take the bait.