English
Indonesia
Chinese (Simp)
Japanese
Korean
Spanish
Portuguese
French
German
ArabicArknights: It Can't Possibly Be My Fault... Right? — Chapter 3
Chapter 3: Who Exactly Are You?
“Mr. Kai… is everything written in this brief actually true?” Amiya asked, her voice laced with a heavy, uncharacteristic worry. She held the combat plan tightly, her eyes scanning the intelligence reports.
Kai had deliberately held back. Fearing that the full, unvarnished truth would paralyze the room, he had only outlined the broader strokes of the impending disaster in Chernobog. He detailed the near-total mobilization of the Reunion Movement and their inevitable, violent clash with the local authorities. Yet, even this sanitized version was enough to send a chill through the room.
The most alarming sections detailed Talulah, the enigmatic leader of Reunion. These were variables that even Rhodes Island’s dedicated intelligence network had completely missed. If his warnings were accurate, walking into Chernobog unprepared would not just result in heavy casualties. It would mean total annihilation.
“That is exactly why we need to tear this plan apart and rebuild it today,” Kai said, leaning forward and spreading his hands flat on the table.
In truth, his singular motivation for forcing his way into this briefing was to alter fate. He needed to save the operators who were destined to become tragic sacrifices in the original plotline, particularly Big Brother Ace. But he was just one person lacking the overwhelming power needed to solo a Catastrophe. He had to rely on the collective strength of Rhodes Island.
When he first transmigrated, he had treated Terra like an immersive VR game. He played the role of the aloof bystander, occasionally using his meta-knowledge to score some easy advantages, exactly as a stereotypical transmigrator should. But that detachment had eroded. He had shared drunken laughter with Blaze, sweated through grueling training sessions under Ace’s watchful eye, assisted Kal’tsit in the medbay, and pulled exhausting overtime shifts alongside Amiya. The sterile game world had bled into reality. These were real people, and their lives were now irrevocably tethered to his own.
“We need to restructure our entire operational approach based on this new intel,” Kai continued, his tone deadpan but firm.
Beside him, Blaze slammed a hand on the table, leaning in. “This intel? You are telling us that the legendary walking Catastrophe, Talulah herself, is personally leading the vanguard on Chernobog? That is just… insane.”
A wave of anxious chatter swept through the conference room as the operators exchanged uneasy glances. The noise swelled until Amiya stood up, clearing her throat to cut through the rising panic.
“Everyone, please,” she said, her voice projecting a calm authority that demanded attention. “What we need to focus on right now is not debating the authenticity of Mr. Kai’s intelligence. On that front, I firmly believe Mr. Kai would never deceive us., our extraction operation cannot be aborted under any circumstances. Therefore, for the remainder of this briefing, we must critically re-examine our combat formations exactly as Mr. Kai suggested.”
From across the table, a burly man adjusting his signature sunglasses stepped in to anchor the room’s shifting mood. “Amiya is right,” Ace said, his deep voice rumbling with steady reassurance. “Even if there is only a one percent chance that Kai’s intel is accurate, we have to treat it as absolute fact. If we do not, we will be walking blind into the full, concentrated might of the Reunion Movement. And a Reunion force where nearly every single ringleader is mobilized under Talulah’s direct command is not something we can afford to underestimate.”
Ace paused, looking around the room before a wry grin touched his features. “Besides, I really do not plan on perishing in that woman’s sea of fire at such a young age.”
Kai suppressed a wince, his expression freezing for a fraction of a second. What kind of cursed dark humor was that? To the rest of the operators, it was just Ace being Ace, using a morbid joke to bleed the tension out of the room. It worked. The initial shock faded, replaced by a focused, intensive tactical discussion built entirely around the intelligence Kai had provided.
The grueling strategy session stretched all the way to the dinner hour. The operators finally dispersed, agreeing to hit the cafeteria together for a well-deserved meal. Kai was fully prepared to join the exodus, but as the room emptied, Kal’tsit’s voice cut through the rustling of papers. She asked him to remain behind, stating she had matters to discuss with him in private.
“Goodbye, Mr. Kai. I hope you and Dr. Kal’tsit have a very productive talk.” The young Cautus waved cheerfully from the doorway, her footsteps light and energetic as she departed. It was obvious that the active outcome of the meeting had lifted a massive weight off her shoulders.
Once Amiya was gone, Kai turned his attention back to the head of the long conference table. At some point during the quiet, Kal’tsit had summoned Mon3tr. The jagged, crystalline entity was currently using a sharp appendage to idly push a stack of documents around the table.
Kai strolled over, leaning casually against the back of a chair. “Yo, cute little Mon3tr. Can you even read those reports?”
To anyone else on Terra, Mon3tr was a terrifying, lethal monstrosity. But to Kai, armed with his prescient gamer knowledge, the creature was essentially an oversized, overprotective kitten. A kitten that just so happened to occasionally hiss and deal massive true damage.
Hearing the greeting, Mon3tr slowly tilted its jagged head toward Kai. Realizing who was speaking, the creature let out a low, vibrating growl of pure indignation.
“Mon3tr, return.” Kal’tsit’s voice was calm and measured. She recalled the summon to her side and gestured toward the empty chair to her right. “Kai. We need to talk.”
Taking in Kal’tsit’s rigid posture and cool demeanor, Kai knew exactly what this was. An interrogation. But it hardly mattered. The moment he submitted that highly classified combat plan, he knew he was inviting this exact confrontation.
“Ask whatever you want to know,” Kai said, taking a seat. “I will answer as best as I can.”
“I do not recommend that you deploy with the vanguard for this operation.”
They spoke the sentences at the exact same time. The overlapping words hung in the air, creating a suffocatingly awkward silence. Kai rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a dry laugh.
“You go first,” he offered. “Why bench me now? I thought my field application was already approved.”
Kal’tsit let out a quiet, measured sigh. “That approval was granted based on the previous threat assessment. I believed that with Dobermann, Amiya, and Ace leading the squads, your presence would not incur an unacceptable level of risk.”
She began to neatly stack the scattered dossiers in front of her, her movements precise. “However, if the situation in Chernobog truly escalates in the manner you have predicted, the danger of your participation increases exponentially. This applies not only to your own safety, but to the operational security of the entire team. Consequently, I have temporarily revised the deployment roster.”
“Then why pull me aside to tell me privately?” Kai asked, genuinely confused by the extra layer of secrecy.
Kal’tsit stopped sorting the papers. She looked up, her piercing gaze locking directly onto Kai. “Your desire to participate in this specific extraction has been unusually intense since the very early stages of its organization., you presented a highly anomalous combat intelligence report today. If one can even call it a report.”
Beside her, Mon3tr let out a low, clicking growl that sounded suspiciously like mockery.
“Maybe I just threw it together on a whim?” Kai offered a casual shrug, sliding a stray folder across the table toward her to break the tension.
Kal’tsit completely ignored the deflection. Her tone remained clinical, dissecting him with words. “Since you boarded Rhodes Island, you have demonstrated an immense level of trust and… affection toward the operators. I do not believe this is simply gratitude for us taking you in. You exhibit a highly contradictory behavioral pattern. You treat operators whom logic dictates you have never met before as if they were lifelong friends. Yet, your actual, practical knowledge of their lives is entirely superficial.”
She chose her words with surgical precision, and Kai could feel a cold sweat breaking out along his spine. Damn it, how was this ancient feline so terrifyingly sharp? His mind raced, his super-brain burning processing power to figure out a plausible way out of this corner. He forced a relaxed chuckle.
“Really? I had not noticed. It might just be your imagination working overtime, Doc.”
“Who exactly are you?” Kal’tsit asked abruptly.
The sudden, blunt question made him flinch. He braced himself, expecting to meet that heavy, oppressive stare, but Kal’tsit was not looking at him at all. Her eyes were cast downward, fixed intently on a single document resting atop the neat stack.
Kai leaned over slightly to catch a glimpse. It was his initial employment medical evaluation. The crisp black text on the stark white page seemed to mock him.
‘Name: Kai. Gender: Male. Race: Unknown. Originium Adaptability: Excellent. Originium Arts: Unknown.’