Arknights, but the Family Has Fallen into Decline Again, Again, Again

These rookie-dungeon monsters were no match for the operators. In fact, the only pressure attack they had endured so far had come from The Shambler last night. Whether it was the skeleton bureaucrat clutching a wineglass, the raving madman, or the twitchy cultist, they were all dealt with in a single exchange.

It felt like removing the level cap, then coming back with max-level heroes to stomp low-level mobs...

Still, as they ventured deeper, stronger enemies would eventually let the operators experience the distinctive charm of Darkest Dungeon.

"What's that?" Alina pointed toward one corner of the room.

A long table was covered with all sorts of classical chemical apparatus. Scrolls, manuscripts, and books lay scattered beside them, while herbs, minerals, and animal entrails were all mixed together.

Oute picked up a book and flipped through a couple of pages before confirming that it was not necromancy.

"It seems to be some kind of hair-growth potion?" he said uncertainly.

Oute continued reading, and the fog gradually cleared—this was a technique that used mysterious power to animate flesh and restore it.

Fate Reconstruction.

In Darkest Dungeon, this was an extremely unstable... "healing" technique.

The amount it healed could start at zero, and there was a considerable chance that it would inflict a bleeding effect on the vic—on the recipient as well.

If the player was lucky, it was a miraculous skill capable of healing a hero on death's doorstep straight back to full health in one go.

What? Unlucky?

A critical heal for zero with bleeding on top—how about that?

Oute handed the torch to Specter and studied the material carefully.

The person who had left these records behind seemed to have been searching for a way to make Fate Reconstruction controllable, but clearly, he had failed.

The section Oute had just read was a record of the technique being used on a head.

It had a subtly absurd feel to it, yet it made sense.

But the other records involving heads were rather... too grotesque.

Seeing pig heads twisted into bizarre shapes, Oute felt slightly nauseated.

Still, it also made Oute realize where these materials had come from.

He revised his assessment: the research here had not been intended to control Fate Reconstruction, but to locate the source of Fate Reconstruction's power.

These materials alone, of course, were not enough to support that conclusion.

But Oute knew exactly what kind of bastard his ancestor was.

Would he research how to make Fate Reconstruction controllable?

Only if there was quick money in it...

Oute looked at the long-dried animal entrails on the table, picked up a piece, and gave it a small try.

An ominous red glow flickered over Oute's hand. The dried organ cracked open, revealing pink flesh beneath its blackened shell.

Soon, blood gushed forth. Endless crimson flooded out from that incomplete heart!

Thump, thump-thump, thump!

The heart convulsed, pumping out blood without end. Its vessels writhed like snakes as they sprayed blood everywhere!

Ah, now that was a critical hit.

But was this restoring flesh and bone, or healing with bleeding?

"Oute! What are you doing?!" Kal'tsit asked, forcing herself to remain calm.

In Oute's view, her stress gauge shot from a single digit to eighty in an instant.

He immediately tossed away the pig heart and ordered, "Mon3ter, destroy it."

The construct let out a pleased shriek and fired a beam, reducing the resurrected pig heart to dust.

W's eyes shifted. So Oute could command that cat's spine-puller too?

But the fountain-like spray of blood had already splashed everyone present with large, conspicuous crimson stains. Before long, they would darken to a blackish brown and give off an even more pungent smell.

"..." Specter shot Oute a resentful look.

W, however, did not seem to care much. With her hands behind her back and her upper body leaning forward, she asked curiously, "Was that some mechanism on the table?"

Kal'tsit's expression was grave.

Oute had "resurrected" that heart.

After they dealt with that fragment last night, Doc Otter's mind had indeed undergone some changes... Exchanging "coins" for supplies, an equal exchange dictated by rules—that was still within controllable bounds.

But resurrection on this scale... his personality had begun to affect this "territory" itself!

The lynx reached another bizarre conclusion.

"It was a technique recorded in these documents. I tried it a little," Oute answered.

That left W rather dumbfounded. I asked, and you actually answered?

Because there was no need to hide it.

Fate Reconstruction was a technique that... would still have to be used when the time came.

Now that they had it, they could not exactly leave it sitting on a shelf, could they?

"So dirty..." Skadi glanced at her clothes.

"Then let's head back for today," Oute said easily.

"Didn't you say we had to please..." Alina asked in confusion.

"That was Kal'tsit's wording, not mine," Oute denied. "What I said was that we only needed to accomplish a specific objective."

"Then... did we accomplish it?" Even with blood on her face, the little deer still spoke softly.

It only made the feeling stranger.

"No," Oute said honestly. "Because today, I originally wanted to see whether we could still leave the Interstice midway through."

"Like how I deliberately summoned FrostNova at the start of tonight, then banished her again. I need to conduct enough experiments in the Interstice to determine just what I can do now."

Kal'tsit was silent for a moment before asking, "Since it is leaving 'midway,' then next time..."

"Yes. Most likely, we'll still be here."

Skadi asked, "What about these bloodstains?"

"That's part of the experiment too..." Oute answered.

Kal'tsit raised her notebook. "I've already tested that."

"I deliberately brought this with me before going to sleep, and it came here with me."

Oute nodded and answered Skadi, "Then the condition of our clothes will most likely be 'refreshed' as well."

Then he said to Skadi, "Could you take out your sword for a moment?"

The orca girl blankly... coolly did as he asked.

Using the blade's edge, Oute cut a small gash into his left arm.

"Although the injuries you suffered last night did not return with you to reality, since we're here anyway, I might as well test it myself."

"My lord!" Specter called out anxiously.

"He'll be fine," Skadi awkwardly reassured her. "It's only an experiment."

Specter glanced at her, then turned to look at Oute's wound. Finally, she fixed her wet eyes on Oute.

This... there are cat sharks, so are there dog sharks too?

I really can't handle that look!

Helplessly, he slipped his right hand beneath the nun's hood and gently soothed her.

A loyal-dog-type, secretary-type Specter... this was completely out of character!

But Oute quickly perked up again. It's fine! She's still adorable!

Chapter 61: Correct Form of Address: Assistant

The sun was climbing toward the center of the sky, nearly at its peak. Though the sunlight was brilliant, the cold wind remained biting, and the air was still bleakly cold.

Though no one had said it aloud, the operators had more or less realized that they were now in a "marching" state. In the span of a day, this temporary stronghold had begun transforming into a fortress.

After Oute got up from his camp bed, he saw the operators carrying simple fortifications up to the roof and beginning work on firing platforms.

The operators had indeed taken his words from yesterday to heart.

After giving himself what could barely count as a wash, Oute bit down on a baguette and headed downstairs.

"Doctor, do you have a moment?" Meteorite approached Oute with a report. "We've obtained some intelligence that requires your attention."

Blaze had probably been on watch all night and was still catching up on sleep, so this work had naturally been handed over to Meteorite, who held the highest "rank." For reasons everyone understood without saying, Rhodes Island's management system retained a military character that drew sidelong glances from outsiders.

Oute accepted the report.

There were roughly three points:

First, Lungmen had completely stopped moving. The Emergency Handling Act had been activated, and the Lungmen Guard Department was organizing efforts to receive refugees.

Second, Rhodes Island had discovered a small number of Reunion Movement members in the slums.

Third was rather interesting: some of the intelligence on the Reunion Movement had been passed to Rhodes Island by yesterday's patients.

"I understand." Oute tossed the document back to Meteorite. "Proceed according to the original plan."

"The slums are already accustomed to the law of the jungle. They are beasts in a steel forest. The carrot has been fed; next, it's time to brandish the spear and shield."

Oute had already turned this temporary stronghold into an operational target for the Reunion Movement.

And those infected thugs who had infiltrated the area could almost instantly learn Rhodes Island's exact location from the others.

To be fair, when Oute had made the plan yesterday, he had not yet received accurate intelligence about the Reunion Movement from W. Still, the framework of the plan allowed for minor adjustments.

It all looked like...

"Everything is going according to the Doctor's plan!" Jessica gazed at Oute with sparkling eyes.