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ArabicArknights: It Can't Possibly Be My Fault... Right? — Chapter 2
Chapter 2: Pre-war Meeting
“I am so sorry! I overslept and kept you all waiting. That is entirely my fault!”
Kai stood planted just outside the heavy doors of the conference room, bent at a rigid ninety-degree angle as he delivered his frantic apology to the assembled crowd. He held the bow for a long, agonizing moment, waiting for a response. A sigh, a reprimand, even a sarcastic remark would have sufficed.
Instead, absolute silence greeted him.
Feeling a bead of sweat roll down his neck, Kai slowly lifted his head to steal a glance. Through the wide, transparent partition, he saw the entire room of Elite Operators seated around the long table. Every single one of them was looking right at him. Several were wearing highly amused smiles.
Kai blinked, looking left and right in sheer confusion. Why was nobody saying a word?
Near the middle of the table, a familiar Feline operator with dark, blue-black hair rested her chin in her hand. Blaze’s cat ears twitched erratically as she visibly fought to stifle a laugh. Raising her free hand, she tapped a finger against the pathetic, thin layer of glass separating them, and then pointed directly at her own ear.
The realization hit Kai like a physical blow. The damn glass was soundproof. When did the engineering department even install that? He wanted nothing more than to find a crack in the floor tiles and bury himself alive.
Fortunately, Amiya stepped in to salvage what was left of his dignity. The heavy door clicked open from the corner of the room, and the young Cautus stepped out into the hallway. Her posture was relaxed, and a faint, teasing smile played on her lips.
“Mr. Kai, you have finally arrived. Dr. Kal’tsit is quite displeased. You were the one who submitted a formal request to participate in this tactical meeting, yet you overslept. Have you prepared a suitable explanation for her?”
‘As expected, my little Amiya is the only gentle and understanding soul in this place,’ Kai thought, feeling a wave of immense gratitude.
But then Amiya planted a hand firmly on her hip, her tone shifting into something far more authoritative. She pointed a finger at her own chest. “, Mr. Kai, I am also very angry. If you cannot provide a reasonable excuse for your tardiness, I will not help put in a good word for you!”
Kai scratched the back of his head with an awkward, sheepish grin, offering no defense as he followed Amiya into the sterile, brightly lit conference room.
The moment he slid into an empty chair, before he could even open his mouth to offer a proper apology, the temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees.
“We shall resume the meeting,” Kal’tsit announced from the head of the table, her voice entirely devoid of inflection.
Kai leaned over, nudging the Feline beside him with his elbow. “What did I miss?” he whispered.
Blaze kept her eyes glued to the stack of intelligence dossiers spread across the table, but she leaned her weight slightly in his direction, keeping her voice equally low. “Just the standard administrative stuff. Personnel arrangements, squad groupings, division of labor. That sort of thing.”
“Specifically? What else did the Old Lynx have to say?”
“You still have the nerve to call her that?” Blaze muttered, her tail flicking beneath her chair. “I am warning you, Dr. Kal’tsit’s face was terrifyingly dark just a minute ago.”
“Why wouldn’t I dare? Who do you think I am? I am Kai. I do not fear a mere Old Lynx.”
“Impressive. Truly impressive.”
The two of them continued trading hushed remarks, completely ignoring the shifting atmosphere in the room, until a very deliberate sound cut through the air.
“Ahem.” Amiya cleared her throat.
Kai and Blaze snapped their heads up. Every single Elite Operator in the vicinity was staring directly at them, their faces painted with varying degrees of undisguised schadenfreude.
A heavy sense of dread settled in Kai’s stomach. He turned his head with mechanical stiffness toward the head of the table. Kal’tsit’s expression was utterly glacial. Her feline ears were pinned flat against her head, giving her the exact appearance of an ancient, highly dangerous cat preparing to hiss.
“Blaze. Kai.” Kal’tsit’s voice sounded as though it had been dragged through crushed ice. “It appears the two of you harbor some unique tactical insights you are eager to share with the rest of us.”
“Present, Dr. Kal’tsit!” Blaze practically launched herself upright in her chair, her posture rigid. “It was entirely Kai’s doing! I repeatedly reminded him to pay attention, but he insisted on talking to me!”
“Hey!” Kai hissed, pointing an accusing finger at her.
The two immediately devolved into a rapid-fire exchange of blame, tossing the responsibility back and forth like a live grenade. At the head of the table, Kal’tsit’s grip on her fountain pen tightened to a dangerous degree. The plastic casing let out a faint, ominous creak.
Amiya stepped in to defuse the bomb before it could detonate. “Alright, you two, please stop troubling Dr. Kal’tsit. Mr. Kai, you really are something else. Hurry up and apologize.” As she finished speaking, Amiya squeezed her eyes shut for a fraction of a second, shooting Kai a desperate, pointed look.
Catching the lifeline, Kai immediately straightened his posture and delivered the most sincere apology he could muster. “I am sorry! Ol… uh, Boss!”
“Pfft.” Blaze slapped a hand over her mouth, a sharp bark of laughter escaping her despite the danger.
Kal’tsit slowly released her death grip on the pen and let out a long, measured sigh.
“Kai,” she began, her tone shifting from icy reprimand to a heavy, philosophical calm. “I expect you understand that every soul walking this land harbors secrets. The mysteries clinging to you are clearly not ready to see the light of day. Yet I, alongside the rest of Rhodes Island, remain willing to place a measure of faith in your sincerity. We operate on the assumption that you will eventually open up to us. For the present moment, however, you must justify your presence. Offer an explanation substantial enough to convince me that allowing you into this tactical briefing was not a grave error in judgment.”
Kai’s mental translation engine whirred to life, decoding the signature Kal’tsit monologue. The result was simple: ‘If you cause trouble again, get out of my meeting room.’
Offering a hollow, apologetic laugh, he sat up straight. He raised a hand, signaling that he actually had something of substance to contribute. After receiving a curt nod of permission from Kal’tsit, Kai reached into his bag. He pulled out a thick, heavily annotated combat plan he had stayed up all night drafting and slid it across the long table.
“This is the operational blueprint I put together,” Kai said, his casual demeanor returning. “You can use it as a reference. I guarantee it will be useful.”
Kal’tsit picked up the document. Her brow immediately furrowed at the sight of the flamboyant, messy handwriting scrawled across the cover. But as she flipped the page and began to read, the faint annoyance on her face dissolved, replaced by a deep, chilling seriousness.
“Where did you acquire the intelligence detailed in this report?” Kal’tsit asked, her eyes never leaving the page. “Can you verify the reliability of these operational variables?”
It was the first time Kai had ever seen Kal’tsit look genuinely rattled. Even though he had spent the entire previous night rehearsing his excuses, the sheer intensity of her gaze left him momentarily stunned. A sharp poke to the ribs from his good buddy Blaze snapped him out of his daze.
Kai spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “Would you believe me if I told you it came to me in a dream?”
Seeing Kal’tsit’s fingers twitch toward her fountain pen again, Kai hastily backpedaled. “Look, it is difficult for me to explain the exact origin of this intelligence. You can just understand it as… well, it suddenly appeared in my mind. As if the knowledge was always there. That is the truth.”
Kal’tsit rubbed her temples, processing the absurd claim. “Are you a Cyclops?”
Kai blinked, caught off guard by the reference to the prophetic Sarkaz sub-race. “Not exactly… I don’t think so?”
Kal’tsit ignored the weak response and returned her focus to the document, reading through the remaining pages in absolute silence. When she finally reached the end, she closed the file with a soft thud and let out another sigh.
The surrounding Elite Operators exchanged confused, wary glances. None of them had any idea what was written on those pages, nor could they read Kal’tsit’s current mood.
Sensing the tension, Kai immediately tried to run damage control. “I know it is incredibly hard to swallow the things I wrote in there…”
Before he could finish the sentence, Kal’tsit raised a single hand, cutting him off completely. “No. I can believe the strategic assessments you have provided, even though the premise is… highly unbelievable.”
This time, Kai was the one left entirely speechless. “Ah? You are just going to believe it? Just like that?”
Kal’tsit looked up, her piercing eyes locking onto his. “Is this not the outcome you anticipated?”
Kai scratched his cheek, a genuine look of bewilderment on his face. “Not exactly. I just did not expect you to accept it so easily. I guess I must be a pretty reliable guy in your heart, huh.”
Kal’tsit stared at him. She said absolutely nothing.
Kai shifted uncomfortably under the silence. “I am a reliable guy… right?”
Watching the two of them exchange cryptic remarks, Amiya finally reached her limit. “Dr. Kal’tsit, what exactly are the two of you discussing?”
Kal’tsit opened her mouth, seemingly struggling to find the right words the impossible tactical foresight contained in the document. Giving up, she simply handed the file to Amiya. “Pass it around. See for yourselves.”
“Oh, no need for that, no need at all!” Kai interjected brightly. “I have plenty more right here.”
Reaching back into his bag, Kai hauled out a massive, brick-like stack of identical combat plans. He began passing them down the table, ensuring every single operator received a copy. He had printed so many extras that he casually tossed three spare copies in front of Blaze, and arranged four more in a neat grid in front of his own seat.
Watching the sheer volume of paper flood the conference table, Kal’tsit raised a single, dangerous eyebrow.
“Kai?”
“What’s up?”
“Were you the one who drained the logistics printer of all its paper reserves last night without replacing the tray?”
Kai froze, his hand hovering over the last stack of documents.
“Ha… haha,” Kai forced a dry laugh, looking anywhere but at the head of the table. “What printer? I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.”