Arknights: How Did I Actually Become the Doctor? — Chapter 23
Chapter 23: Our Connection Will Transcend Space and Time, Even If…
In an instant, the executives who had just been loudly echoing the room’s oppressive demands fell dead silent. Not a single one of them wanted to be the next chicken slaughtered to warn the remaining monkeys.
Unfortunately for them, fate had other plans. A few of the loudest, most unfortunate loudmouths had already been memorized by the young man sitting at the head of the table, who was currently smiling at them like a demon fresh out of the underworld.
“A pet?” The Doctor’s voice was smooth, dripping with dark amusement. “Rhodes Island will be transferring our supply lines to a different factory next quarter. Oh, right, there were some glaring quality control issues with the batch of D32 Steel your consortium traded us last month. We have already filed a formal report. Expect a fine of 2.3 million LMD, and a very prompt, very thorough visit from the Columbian Market Quality Inspection Bureau.”
He shifted his gaze, his predatory smile widening. “And Mr. Kai… or whatever your impossibly convoluted name is. Rhodes Island will be immediately withdrawing all security personnel stationed near your processing plants. Just a friendly heads-up: our projections indicate the unrest in the Tara region will likely spill over into your sector within the next three months. Best of luck with that. We’ll be sharing our intelligence with the local militant factions—free of charge, of course.”
Beads of sweat the size of soybeans rolled down the Kazimierz director’s pale face. This wasn’t a negotiation; it was an execution. Rhodes Island’s methods were unprecedentedly ruthless, striking with surgical precision right at the financial jugular of every corporation in the room.
Changing the leader… how could the shift in power be this terrifying?!
“Mr. Director,” the young man asked, his tone polite and unhurried. “Do you have any further objections?”
“None! None at all!” The fat director shook his head fast enough to snap his own neck. “The Kazimierz Chamber of Commerce is absolutely thrilled to renew our cooperation agreement with you!”
“Excellent.” The Doctor nodded, the very picture of satisfaction. He leaned back in his chair, dropping his next words like a guillotine blade. “I’ve said my piece. Does anyone else wish to terminate or amend their contracts?”
A deathly, suffocating silence filled the magnificent hall.
“Rhodes Island is a pharmaceutical company. A charitable organization, at heart,” the young man who called himself the Doctor sighed. He watched his guards drag out the few executives who had fainted from the sheer pressure, his face a mask of deep reluctance. “Our medicine has always been priced for the people. Even with the margins I’ve set today, you will all still turn a handsome profit. Why force my hand like this?”
No one dared to breathe a word in response. The older executives in the room—the ones who had survived long enough to remember the blood-soaked era of Babel—were shivering in their seats. They were so well-behaved they looked as though their entire species had collectively mutated into terrified Cautus hiding from an apex predator.
Finally, the young man spoke again, a display of absolute mercy that brought an end to the one-sided torture session. “Time is of the essence, so I will excuse myself and take my leave—”
He paused, glancing back over his shoulder. “Director. I heard you also prepared some vintage wine for Kal’tsit?”
The hidden threat laced into those casual words made the director’s flabby body violently flinch. “Y-yes! Yes, yes, please, take whatever you desire!”
It was the exact same act of offering wine, but the context had been entirely inverted. When the wine was first presented, it was a malicious, mocking probe; now, accepting it was an overt act of conqueror’s plunder.
The fat director actually felt a twisted, pathetic wave of gratitude wash over him. It is such an honor that he deigned to take a liking to my wine. I’m safe.
“Then I won’t stand on ceremony.”
The young man’s voice dissipated into the cold air. Kal’tsit rose quietly from her seat, playing the part of the perfect, shadow-like assistant. She followed a step behind him, slowly pulling the heavy oak doors shut.
It wasn’t until a long time later—long enough that a man of the Doctor’s supreme temperament would certainly never bother looking back—that the executives left in the grand hall slowly raised their heads. They gasped for air, chests heaving as if they had just been pulled from the bottom of the ocean.
Out in the corridor, the Doctor suddenly froze in his tracks.
His posture went rigid. His face darkened into an expression of absolute severity, far more intense than anything he had displayed at the negotiation table.
“Kal’tsit…”
Kal’tsit, whose impression of him had actually ticked upward by a fraction of a percent over the last hour, was immediately startled. She stepped in close, her hand dropping to her waist to grip her summoner, ready to manifest Mon3tr at a moment’s notice. “What is it? An assassin?”
“These… these pants…” The Doctor hissed through clenched teeth, his legs trembling slightly. “Why are they so… tight in the crotch?!”
Kal’tsit: “…”
“Doctor,” she said, her voice dropping to absolute zero. “I am deeply relieved that this is not a problem I share.”
“This is the fault of my current personal assistant! She packed women’s slacks for me! You should be thanking me for choosing to wear this long-hemmed coat today, otherwise the second I stepped out of the rover, my dignity would have been broadcast to the entire city! Who even assigned her to me? How do you make a mistake this catastrophic?!”
“Your assistant is Ceobe.”
Ceobe. The Perro operator universally recognized across the entire landship as possessing a single, smooth brain cell dedicated entirely to honey biscuits.
Under Kal’tsit’s withering ‘what is wrong with you’ glare, the Doctor’s imposing aura completely deflated. “She has high trust compatibility right now… it’s a new UI theme I was trying out on the home screen…”
Seeing Kal’tsit’s hand twitch toward her summoner again, he frantically hoisted the wooden wine crate like a shield. “Look! Loot! I extorted this just for you! It’s that vintage red you like!”
He immediately pivoted, hobbling awkwardly down the hall. “Anyway, let’s go, let’s go! We have to rush to Kjerag immediately! We’re going on a trip~ to buy some nice furniture~ for the kitty to move into her new dorm~”
“And there are snow leopards to pet! Top-tier, premium fluffy snow leopards!”
Kal’tsit stood in the corridor and rubbed her temples. She watched the supposed mastermind of Rhodes Island waddle toward the armored rover, his gait completely warped by the painfully tight women’s trousers. She suddenly had the overwhelming suspicion that he wasn’t traveling to Kjerag to conduct a high-stakes political summit, but rather to meet a young, wealthy entrepreneur as a sugar baby.
Inside the rover, the Doctor was practically vibrating with joy. He stared at the PRTS interface projected on his retinal display, watching Rhodes Island’s liquid LMD assets skyrocket in a beautiful, straight green line. He was so ecstatic he entirely forgot about the chafing.
Totally worth pulling an all-nighter to memorize the dossiers on those corporate scumbags! he cheered internally.
Thank you, random arrogant Victorian nobles! I can’t believe I actually got to play out a ‘face-slapping’ protagonist trope in real life!
Looking up through the reinforced glass, the towering, snow-capped peaks of Kjerag had already pierced the horizon.
Meanwhile, in the heart of that frozen nation, Enciodes SilverAsh was having a very different evening.
A partnership with Rhodes Island was a key opportunity—one that could irrevocably alter the geopolitical destiny of all of Kjerag. SilverAsh had been awake all night, carefully reviewing his terms, searching for any exploitable use or room to maneuver in the conditions he had prepared.
Suddenly, his terminal chimed with an encrypted, anonymous message:
[Rhodes Island’s negotiation tactics have drastically changed. Their methods are tough, ruthless, and uncompromising. Proceed with extreme caution.]
They changed their strategy at the eleventh hour? An invisible, crushing weight seemed to settle onto SilverAsh’s broad shoulders—shoulders wide enough to carry the Karlan Trade Company, and wide enough to unleash a True Silver Slash across a seven-tile radius.
He sat at the head of the grand negotiation table, adjusted his immaculate cravat, and set his jaw into a mask of solemn, unbreakable resolve.
[Rhodes’s Note: “Cheese snow leopard” is a popular Chinese internet meme mocking a specific streamer/influencer [Ding Zhen]. In the context of Arknights, the Doctor is using it as gamer slang to express his excitement about meeting the snow leopard operators of Kjerag (SilverAsh, Pramanix, Cliffheart). It has been localized to fit the English anime/gaming community’s tone.]
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