Arknights: I'm Pretty Strong With Minecraft — Chapter 38

Chapter 38: Encounter

“What… happened here?”

Hoshiguma’s gaze swept across the devastated street, taking in the shattered asphalt, the deep gouges carved into the concrete, and the lingering smoke that choked the Lungmen air. Her eyes finally locked onto the unfamiliar young man standing casually amidst the wreckage.

“And… who is he?”

Footsteps echoed down the ruined avenue as Ch’en, Amiya, the Doctor, and the Blacksteel personnel arrived on the scene. The heavy tension of the recent battle still hung thick in the atmosphere.

Ch’en stepped forward, her expression complicated as she looked from the destruction back to the young man. She had just witnessed a display of inhuman combat power that defied all logic. “Hoshiguma, this is the senior Rhodes Island Operator I mentioned to you before. Ivan.”

“That is Max-Rarity Six-Star Operator to you,” Ivan corrected dryly, not missing a beat.

Ch’en ignored the remark, turning her attention to the Doctor and Amiya. “And this is Hoshiguma, the head of our Lungmen Guard Department’s Special Investigation Unit. She is one of the most reliable elites in the L.G.D.”

Surprise flickered across Hoshiguma’s face, quickly replaced by a look of deep understanding. She stepped forward, closing the distance with long, confident strides, and extended her hand to Ivan with absolute frankness.

“Eh! So you are Ivan. The one who single-handedly repelled the Reunion Movement in Chernobog. They call you the ‘Humanoid Natural Disaster’ over there. I have heard a lot about you. It is an honor.”

Ivan scratched the back of his head, looking mildly awkward under the intense scrutiny. He reached out and shook her hand. “Hello. You flatter me. It really is not as exaggerated as the rumors say…”

Ch’en gestured toward the Cautus girl standing quietly nearby. “And this is Amiya, the public leader of Rhodes Island.”

Hoshiguma lowered her head, her eyes widening slightly as she took in the petite figure before her. “The leader of Rhodes Island? Such a young leader… My apologies for the surprise. Hello.”

Amiya offered a polite, measured bow. “Hello, Officer Hoshiguma.”

With the introductions settled, Ch’en’s professional demeanor hardened. She surveyed the battered state of the squad Hoshiguma had brought with her, her brows knitting together. “Were you… stopped by just one person?”

Hoshiguma’s expression darkened into something solemn, carrying a heavy trace of regret and sheer helplessness. “The enemy we encountered was exceptionally dangerous. She manipulated Originium Arts to an extreme degree, laying down a barrage that forced my squad to barely maintain a defensive formation. We were completely unable to break through her lines.”

She paused, recalling the bizarre nature of the skirmish. “And… she seemed distracted. Like she was searching for someone the entire time, treating us as nothing more than an annoyance.”

“Is that so?” Ch’en’s frown deepened, her mind racing through the tactical implications.

Franka stepped up, her usual relaxed tone replaced by a sharp urgency. “Officer Ch’en, did you not just say we were going to rescue Misha? What is the plan now?”

Ch’en’s gaze turned cold and decisive. “The plan? The plan has not changed. We find them, and then we wipe out the Reunion Movement entrenched in Lungmen.”

“Eh?!” Franka blinked, caught off guard by the sheer aggression of the statement. “This… the enemy’s strength is completely unknown, and they have an elite capable of pinning down Hoshiguma’s entire squad. A direct assault shouldn’t be possible, right?”

Ch’en did not bother answering verbally. Instead, she turned her head, fully expecting to rely on their resident walking natural disaster to back up her claim.

Instead, she found Ivan flat on his back.

At some point during the conversation, he had unceremoniously collapsed onto the ruined street. His limbs were splayed out like a starfish, his chest rising and falling in shallow, rapid breaths. He looked utterly drained of life. The Blade of the God of War had long since vanished into his inventory.

“No way… I knew the Blade of the God of War consumed a massive amount of stamina… but I didn’t realize it was this brutal…” Ivan muttered to the smog-filled sky. He felt as though every block of his physical form had been dismantled and poorly reassembled. Lifting a single finger felt like moving a mountain. “Now I really cannot even lift my hands…”

“Mr. Ivan!”

“Brother Ivan!”

Panic rippled through the group as they rushed over, forming a tight circle around his prone form.

“Are you alright?!” Amiya asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Ivan grunted, struggling to prop up his upper body with his elbows. With agonizing slowness, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy, shimmering Golden Apple. He brought it to his mouth and crunched down. The metallic snapping sound echoed strangely in the quiet street.

As he swallowed, a visible wave of golden energy washed over him. The unnatural, rapid regeneration took hold instantly. A warm current flooded his veins, repairing the extreme exhaustion, and the pale, sickly hue of his skin vanished, replaced by a healthy flush.

“I am fine, I am fine,” Ivan exhaled a long, steady breath. He sat on the rubble for another moment before pushing himself up to his feet, rolling his shoulders and stretching his limbs with renewed vigor. “The move I just used drained my hunger bar to zero. I just needed a snack.”

He turned his attention back to Amiya, his posture shifting back to his usual confident stance. “By the way, Penguin Logistics should have pinned down their approximate location by now, right?”

Amiya nodded quickly. “Yes! They tracked them to the outer ring of the city, though the exact coordinates are still unclear.”

“That is good enough,” Ivan said, casually brushing the concrete dust off his jacket. His eyes sharpened, the lazy gamer persona giving way to cold focus. “Let us go. It is time to bring Misha back.”

Franka watched him transition from a dying man to a commanding vanguard in the span of ten seconds. A familiar, teasing smirk touched her lips. “Oh, Brother Ivan. When you get serious, you really are quite handsome.”

Liskarm, standing right beside her, sighed heavily and drove an elbow into Franka’s ribs. “That is enough out of you. Focus on the mission.”

Deep within the outer ring, inside a hidden Reunion safe house.

‘Do not worry, I am with you.”You guys retreat quickly, I will hold them off here!”Mr. Ivan…”Miss Misha, do not worry. Rhodes Island will always welcome you.”Amiya…”Misha…”No… do not!’

Misha jolted awake, a silent scream dying in her throat. Cold sweat clung to her forehead, and her heart hammered violently against her ribs. The dark, damp walls of the safe house pressed in on her. She instinctively pulled her knees to her chest, curling into a tight ball, her lips trembling as she whispered the names that had briefly offered her a sanctuary.

“Mr. Ivan… Officer Ch’en…”

The heavy metal door groaned as it was pushed open.

Misha flinched, her body going rigid like a cornered animal. A Reunion Movement soldier stepped into the dim light. She watched him with wide, terrified eyes, shrinking back against the cold wall.

The soldier stopped, sensing her sheer panic. His voice, muffled slightly by his mask, was unexpectedly gentle. “Are you alright, Misha? I have already heard some things about your situation from Skullshatterer.”

He paused, shifting his weight. “Please take care of yourself from now on. Try to get some actual rest.”

Before Misha could process the strange kindness, a harsh voice barked from the corridor outside. “Ivan, get out here and help with the perimeter patrol.”

“Understood,” the soldier named Ivan called back. He looked at Misha one last time and gave a small nod. “Well then, goodbye.”

He stepped out, pulling the heavy door shut with a quiet click.

The room plunged back into silence, but Misha was no longer alone. Skullshatterer stood in the shadows near the entrance, having slipped in just as the soldier left.

The atmosphere in the small room instantly suffocated. An invisible, crushing pressure radiated from the masked commander.

Misha swallowed hard. She forced her trembling hands to uncurl, mustering every ounce of courage she had left to look directly at the terrifying, bone-white mask.

“Who… are you really?” Her voice shook, barely above a whisper. “Are you… are you really my brother?”

Skullshatterer stood perfectly still. The silence stretched until he finally let out a low, ambiguous hum. “You figured it out, huh… That Rhodes Island guy named Ivan told you, did he not.”

His tone carried no outward anger, but at the mention of the name Ivan, a dark, venomous annoyance bled into his words. “Tch. What a deeply troublesome bastard…”

Under Misha’s desperate, unblinking gaze, Skullshatterer slowly raised his hands. His gloved fingers found the heavy metal clips securing his mask. With a sharp hiss of depressurization, he unfastened them, slowly pulling the terrifying visage away from his face.

Beneath the grimdark armor and the legacy of violence was a face Misha knew better than her own.

It really was him.

Misha’s pupils dilated. The crushing weight of fear and doubt was instantly obliterated by a tidal wave of shock and pure, agonizing ecstasy. Tears spilled over her eyelashes, tracking hot and fast down her dirty cheeks.

She threw herself forward, her legs barely holding her weight as she crashed into his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around the brother she thought she had lost forever. Sobs tore from her throat, mangling her words into desperate, broken gasps.

“It is really you! This is great… Alex! You are alive… You are alive!”

She buried her face in his jacket, clinging to him as if letting go would make him vanish into dust.

But the body she held so desperately remained entirely rigid.

Alex did not wrap his arms around her. He simply stood there, a cold statue in the dark room, letting her cry against his chest.

“No,” he said, his voice devoid of the warmth she remembered. “The boy named Alex is already dead.”

He brought his hands up, grasping her shoulders, and firmly pushed her away. He looked down into her tear-streaked face, his eyes hollow and absolute.

“Now, I am Skullshatterer.”