Arknights, but the Family Has Fallen Yet Again, Part 2

"I, a pirate... the Grand Master of the Knights Hospitaller? Then it's fine—Byzantium, the Ottoman Empire, the Mamluk Sultanate, Tunisia, they're all the same! Those otters deserved to be robbed by me!" Oute looked toward the humming power generators, where a little Guard vehicle was on duty.

Rhodes Island was once the historical stronghold of the Knights Hospitaller. For the sake of... their "holy cause," this Catholic French knightly order conducted "armed begging" across the eastern Mediterranean to raise funds.

It was said that their "armed begging" never targeted Catholics.

Oute didn't believe it.

"This landship carries specialized equipment for researching Oripathy. All energy required for its operation is supplied internally."

He gave a rather ill-intentioned smile, only to tug at his wound. "Supplied by my wife... cough, cough!"

"I am quite certain that this humble term should be used by a husband to refer to his wife, rather than by a wife to refer to herself." Even PRTS's electronic voice carried unmistakable delight. "Furthermore, even with careful recuperation and the medical operators' full efforts, your sternum will require approximately three more days to heal completely. Until then, please mind your words and actions."

Without answering, Oute arrived at a workshop processing Originium.

This was probably the Originium synthesis industrial chain, something he was quite unfamiliar with. In the original game, it was the sort of thing whales had no use for, while non-whales would carefully plan around it only to discover it wasn't worth the cost.

PRTS introduced it. "This machine mines and refines the Originium required."

Oute frowned. "In other words, this is also a source of infection."

PRTS responded, "Given the pattern of industrialization on this land, such practices are unavoidable."

This land was pureblooded, certification passed!

"Originium industrialization... indeed. As industrialization advances, Originium will inevitably seep into every corner of this world. What's down there?" Oute silently asked.

"The production line. Based on Rhodes Island's principles, it is difficult for them to profit in the pharmaceutical field."

Naturally. Only a handful of the powerful and privileged could obtain medical resources for Oripathy through normal channels. The instant most other infected became infected, they were effectively sentenced to social death.

In other words, the profits from drugs for the infected came from preventative medicine for armies and factories, and suppressants for a small number of elites.

Yet Rhodes Island's current target was all infected people.

Oute stroked his chin. "Considering research funding and the suppressants distributed to ordinary infected people, Rhodes Island is probably losing money in this field nine times out of ten."

In her calm electronic voice, PRTS pronounced a death sentence on Kal'tsit's actions. "Retrieving balance sheet... sent to terminal."

Oute's eyes were opened. "From the perspective of economic profit, Rhodes Island Pharmaceuticals' medical department is completely dead weight. From the perspective of idealism, Rhodes Island's fieldwork is an utter failure."

"To sustain her folly in the medical field, Rhodes Island has no choice but to become deeply involved in precious-metal and Originium trade with other cities and corporations, as well as... military contracting."

"Due to their professional capabilities and differentiated track, Rhodes Island operators spend most of their time fighting other infected people."

"This produces an absurd result: operators yearn for the ideal of 'fighting for all infected people,' and so join Rhodes Island Pharmaceuticals. Yet under Kal'tsit, they are destined to slaughter one infected person after another, exchanging funds from the actual creators of infection to support their cause."

"In the medical field, this greatly damages the operators' identification with Rhodes Island's ideals."

"And in the military field, if Rhodes Island Pharmaceuticals were to completely eliminate its medical department and operate as a military contracting company, it would surely earn excess profits."

PRTS replied, "Doc Otter, according to my assessment, your evaluation of Kal'tsit is likely mixed with personal feelings."

Oute looked toward the production line, where precious metals emerging from the workshop awaited their final step: packaging.

"I would rather call it pragmatism," he said.

He pondered deeply. "Kal'tsit arrogantly mixed together multiple responsibilities, trying to use Rhodes Island Pharmaceuticals as a company to solve every one of her problems... This has not only left Rhodes Island Pharmaceuticals' cash flow stretched thin and shaken the operators' convictions, but has also seriously endangered this landship's combat capabilities."

"Doc Otter, based on the facts, I cannot refute that."

Oute bid farewell to the packaged precious metals and headed toward the residential area.

Should I reorganize it? But that would run counter to Rhodes Island's current ideals. Kal'tsit definitely wouldn't agree... What do you think?

"The full name of the PRTS system is the Original Rhodes Island Terminal Service System."

Original Rhodes Island Terminal Service System? Priestess!

Oute smiled. "Still, how did that saying go?"

"Searching corpus... Morality is one of the strongest weapons in the world."

Beneath his hood, Oute's black eyes lowered slightly. "The infected aren't very welcome in this world. The moral high ground under that name isn't high enough."

"Searching... Doctors Without Borders. Organization type: independent humanitarian medical aid organization."

"Its mission is to provide aid to people in distress, as well as victims of Catastrophes, 'man-made disasters,' and armed conflicts, regardless of race, religion, beliefs, or political stance."

She paused on the words "man-made disasters."

"It upholds the right to provide humanitarian aid, adheres to neutrality and impartiality, and demands that in its operations..."

"It be unhindered by anyone."

"Humanitarian aid? Unhindered by anyone? There's something worthwhile in that idea... but it still needs something... else." Oute looked at the gathering crowd and asked, "What area is this?"

PRTS acted as though nothing had happened, but her elevated electronic tone gave away plenty. "The residential area was designed to allow operators and hospitalized patients to live comfortably."

"The mental and physical burdens caused by missions and treatment can both be relieved here."

Oute gave it some thought. Since this was the residential area, was the medical area nearby?

Chapter 2: Noble Independent Multiplication, but Under Pressure

Not long ago, in Chernobog.

Flames whipped up frantic currents of air, and the Dragon Lady's white hair flew wildly amid the sea of fire. The Lolita dress, so unlike Talulah's own taste, swayed in the heat as well.

A cool voice slipped from her deliberately painted lips. "You people are the ones who should be standing with us."

Surrounded by the Reunion Movement, "Talulah" said, "What did the infected do?"

"And what did the 'innocent' people do?"

"And what did you people do?"

She wasn't saying this to the Rhodes Island group. Her impromptu speech was for the Reunion Movement!

Oute seized the opportunity.

Only a few operators were injured so far... This could work.

PRTS translated Oute's thoughts through the neural connection into words and conveyed them, tailored to each individual, to every operator still wearing an earpiece.

Upon hearing them, a trace of worry flashed across Amiya's small face, and her ears drooped.

But she quickly hardened her resolve. Doc Otter's orders are absolute!

The veteran operators had similar thoughts.

As a Doctor who had transmigrated here, Oute knew full well that, under his present circumstances, confronting "Talulah" within Chernobog was not a wise move. Even with the Darkest Dungeon trinkets that had crossed over with him into the world of Arknights, he still did not consider fighting now a worthwhile deal.

But even if it wasn't worthwhile, they had to fight.

Oute "removed" the only two trinkets he had from Amiya and Nearl.

Dismas's Head: He was a master robber—quick, precise, and deadly. It would have been better if he weren't so skilled...

Attributes: +25% Damage; -10% Max HP; +20% Stress Taken.

Reynauld's Head: In God's name, the French went on Crusade. In God's name, the French burned, killed, and plundered. In God's name, the French were ashamed to face their wives and daughters.

Attributes: +25% Max HP; +20% Stress Taken.

Oute drew a deep breath, only to pull at the unhealed wound in his chest.

"Cough, cough!"

"Doctor!" At Oute's side, Nearl activated her Arts and gave his sternum emergency treatment once more.

"Oh? Is that why Rhodes Island came to Chernobog?" the Dragon Lady asked.

No one answered her.

They were clearly a pair of dazzlingly beautiful eyes, yet in the hands of a certain someone, they somehow appeared somewhat gloomy.

Oute looked at his left palm. While relieved that he had not coughed up blood, he also noticed in surprise the faint bluish-black "ink stain" on his palm.

That should have been the scar left from when he had pierced his palm with a pen tip as a child!

Hadn't he transmigrated into the protagonist of Arknights, the "Doctor"?

Why was this mark still on his palm?

But there was no time to think about it.

Those two trinkets, bearing the negative modifier "+20% Stress Taken," had already been equipped on the Dragon Lady. Now, she would face a full 40% increase in stress gained!

Oute glanced at Talulah's stress bar: ninety.

That's even far higher than that deranged Mephisto from before. You could say she's on the verge of a mental breakdown. But what's strange about that? It would be stranger if Talulah's stress were low...

"This power..." The Dragon Lady seemed thoughtful as a flame ignited on her index finger.

Now that both trinkets had been equipped on the Dragon Lady, she received the noble, independently multiplicative bonuses of "+25% Damage" and "+15% Max HP."

"No wonder you came all this way for a rescue." Someone clenched her fist and extinguished the flame. She tilted her head, looking far cuter than Talulah herself.

"But you specifically bestowed this kind of Originium Arts upon me... Are you begging for mercy?" The Dragon Lady opened her small mouth and licked the index finger that had just held a flame with her scarlet tongue.

As though savoring the lingering warmth.

You could despise her morality as a normal person, or look down on her personal abilities as a grand strategy game player, but... do not disparage her taste!

You're so slutty.

That thought traveled through the mental link established by the trinkets and reached "Talulah."

"This is!" Her expression changed at once.

A mental technique she had never encountered before!

Watching Talulah's stress value abruptly jump to ninety-seven, Oute was completely baffled.

I haven't even done anything yet. Why did her stress go up?

The Dragon Lady immediately forced her face back into a stern expression.

As a master in the field of the mind, "Talulah" instantly realized that Oute could not read her thoughts in reverse.

Not yet.