Arknights: I'm Pretty Strong With Minecraft — Chapter 48

Chapter 48: The Totem of Undying

“Let’s go, let’s go! Move it!”

Ivan bolted out of the central hall, not bothering to cast a single glance over his shoulder. He snatched the wrists of Zima and Rosa, who were still standing frozen in the corridor, and hauled them into a dead sprint.

“Hey! Wait! Why are we in such a rush?” Zima stumbled, her combat boots skidding against the polished floor as Ivan’s sheer momentum dragged her along. “And why the hell is Mon3tr chasing you?!”

Rosa, completely caught off guard by the sudden kinetic pull, struggled to keep her footing. “Mr. Ivan, what exactly did you do to Dr. Kal’tsit?” she asked, her voice laced with aristocratic panic.

“Don’t ask! Just keep your legs moving!”

The trio tore through the metallic corridors of Rhodes Island, finally skidding to a halt outside the Doctor’s office. Ivan braced a hand against the wall, regulating his breathing for a brief second. Then, he raised his fist, hammered heavily against the metal door, and pitched his voice into a loud, authoritative bark.

“FBI! Open up!”

The heavy office door slowly clicked and swung inward, leaving a narrow gap. Ivan, Zima, and Rosa simultaneously stacked their heads in the opening, peering inside.

The interior was a nightmare of bureaucracy. Stacks of mission reports and logistical files were piled high enough to rival the mountains of Kjerag. Slumped over the central desk, his face completely buried in a thick stack of requisition forms, was the Doctor. One limp hand reached out toward the doorway in a gesture of absolute despair.

“Save… save me… Ivan,” the Doctor groaned, his voice muffled by the paperwork.

Amiya stood dutifully beside the desk. She held yet another thick folder waiting for a signature, her expression a mix of strict professionalism and quiet exhaustion. Seeing the three heads stacked in the doorway, her serious demeanor softened just a fraction.

“Mr. Ivan, is there something you need?” she asked. “The Doctor is currently… busy with highly critical work.”

Ivan pushed the door wide open and strode in. “Kal’tsit said we need to depart immediately to support the lost reconnaissance team!”

To the Doctor, those words were a choir of angels. He violently wrenched his head up from the mountain of documents, his eyes shining with the desperate brilliance of a man granted a stay of execution. He slid out of his chair, dropped straight to his knees, and lunged forward to wrap both arms around Ivan’s leg in a vice-like grip.

“Wuwuwu! Ivan! You’re my Superman!”

Ivan stared down at the clinging tactician with absolute disgust, trying and failing to shake his leg free. “Alright, alright! Get off me, you weirdo!”

Standing by the door, Zima and Rosa watched the highly respected commander of Rhodes Island debase himself with exaggerated theatricality.

“Pfft.” The two Ursus girls slapped hands over their mouths, stifling a burst of laughter.

“Stop laughing!” Ivan finally managed to pry the Doctor’s death grip off his thigh. He turned back to the girls, dusting off his pants. “Go grab Gummy, Leto, and Truth. We’re gathering up.”

Up on the bridge, a cool, artificial breeze swept across the open observation deck. Through the massive reinforced windows, the faint, sprawling skyline of Lungmen loomed in the distance.

Ivan and the Doctor leaned against the metal railing, killing time as they waited for Amiya and the rest of the Ursus Student Self-Governing Group.

The rhythmic click of footsteps approached. Franka and Liskarm from Blacksteel Worldwide strolled onto the deck, flanked by the energetic duo of Exusiai and Texas from Penguin Logistics.

“How’s it going, Brother Ivan? That rare Lungmen mission is finally over. Are you going to start enjoying your vacation now?” Franka leaned against the railing beside him, a playful, flirtatious smile curving her lips. Her tone carried its usual teasing bite, warm and dangerously close.

“Vacation?” Ivan let out a heavy sigh, staring out at the nomadic city. “Dream on. Another mission just dropped into my lap. It’s worse than being a corporate slave; I don’t get a single second to breathe.”

“Ah? You’re leaving again?” Exusiai’s bright expression instantly fell into a pout. She hopped over, playfully bumping her shoulder against Ivan’s other side. “Ivan, why don’t you just quit working for Rhodes Island and join Penguin Logistics! Our delivery service has way more freedom. Plus, the Emperor’s recent taste in records has been absolutely terrible, and everyone at the safehouse is so boring right now. We really need someone like you to liven the place up.”

“Exusiai, please refrain from poaching operators in broad daylight,” Liskarm said, her voice dry. She turned to Ivan and offered a polite, professional nod. “We still need to return to Blacksteel Worldwide to file our report on this joint operation, so we will be taking our leave first.”

“Brother Ivan.” Franka unclipped the heavy, menacing blade from her waist—the Slaughter Blade he had lent her—and held it out to him.

Ivan didn’t even reach for the hilt. He just waved his hand dismissively. “No need to hand it back. Keep it. Consider it a… farewell gift?”

Franka froze. She looked down at the devastatingly powerful weapon resting in her palms, a genuine flicker of surprise breaking through her usual teasing facade. “Something this valuable, and you’re just giving it away?” She looked back up, her eyes narrowing with a predatory, amused glint. “Brother Ivan… could it be that you’ve actually fallen for your older sister?”

“Don’t start with that nonsense,” Ivan said, rolling his eyes in blatant annoyance. “Just tell me if you want the damn sword or not.”

“Yes! Of course I want it!” Franka immediately swung the Slaughter Blade behind her back, securing it with a satisfied grin. “A gift from Brother Ivan? How could I ever refuse?”

“Hey—! That’s totally unfair!” Exusiai cried out, grabbing Ivan’s sleeve and tugging it vigorously. “I want a gift too! I helped out just as much! You can’t only give things to Franka! I want one!”

Before Ivan could respond to the whining Sankta, the mechanical doors hissed open. Amiya stepped onto the bridge, leading Rosa, Zima, Gummy, Leto, and Truth.

“Alright, alright, calm down. Everyone gets a share,” Ivan said.

He reached into his inventory and pulled out several small, strangely shaped golden figurines. He tossed one to every person present.

Zima caught hers out of the air. She held the small, winged golden idol in her palm, turning it over to inspect the emerald eyes. “What are these little figures? Good luck charms?” She frowned, clearly unimpressed. “It doesn’t exactly look useful in a fight.”

“It’s called a Totem of Undying,” Ivan explained casually, leaning back against the railing. “If you ever take a fatal hit—no matter how devastating the attack is—this thing will shatter, save your life, and instantly heal your injuries.”

Averting death? Instant healing?

A collective gasp rippled across the deck. The casual way he dropped the concept of outright defying mortality left the seasoned mercenaries and operators stunned.

“This… this is far too valuable!” Liskarm was the first to break the silence. She immediately stepped forward, trying to shove the golden idol back into Ivan’s hands. “We absolutely cannot accept something like this!”

“It’s fine, just keep it,” Ivan said, waving her off with a lazy flick of his wrist. “I have a massive pile of these things. My storage warehouse is practically overflowing with them, seriously.”

`[Evoker: Fck your Lungmen foul language! You’re so pure.]`

“But…” Liskarm hesitated, her strict moral compass clashing with the literal extra life resting in her hands.

“No buts,” Ivan interrupted, cutting off any further protests. “Just consider it a favor. Next time I need a hand with something stupid, you guys can pay me back. Just remember, you actually have to hold this thing on you for it to work.”

Slowly, with immense reverence, everyone carefully tucked their Totems of Undying into their secure pockets.

Amiya clutched her totem tightly, her brow furrowing with deep concern. “Mr. Ivan, I understand your generosity. However, I believe the existence of an item with these effects must be kept strictly confidential. If the outside world learned that you possessed a miraculous creation capable of absolutely averting death… it would likely bring an unimaginable level of disaster down upon us.”

The Doctor, who had been standing quietly to the side, reached out and patted Amiya’s shoulder. He tilted his head, gesturing toward Ivan with his chin.

“Amiya, your strategic concerns are entirely reasonable,” the Doctor said, his voice flat. “But, before we start worrying about the logistical nightmare of confidentiality… do you want to take a second to re-evaluate Mr. Ivan’s actual combat power?”

The Doctor’s deadpan logic silenced the entire bridge. One by one, every gaze slowly drifted over to focus on Ivan, remembering the sheer, physics-breaking devastation he regularly unleashed.

Amiya stared at Ivan for a long moment.

“…”

She let out a soft, defeated sigh. “Alright… you make an excellent point, Doctor.”