Arknights: It Can't Possibly Be My Fault... Right? — Chapter 93

Chapter 93: Popular Attractions

The Reunion Movement grunt scratched his messy hair, leaning against the peeling wallpaper of the ruined apartment. “Doesn’t sound like a real name, but I guess that’s normal these days… Nine, right? Man, if you hadn’t thrown your lot in with us, you probably wouldn’t have ended up in this miserable state.”

Nine shook her head, her gaze fixed on the desolate, ash-covered streets outside the window. “Even if we hadn’t joined, our situation wouldn’t be any better.”

“Yeah… I suppose that’s true.” The grunt let out a heavy breath, mulling over Lungmen’s strict policies regarding the Infected. It wasn’t outright slaughter, but it was a slow, suffocating exile that left them with nothing. “…So, did you sign up after hearing Talulah’s speech?”

“No.” Nine’s voice was flat, devoid of the fiery zeal that possessed most of their comrades. “Slogans don’t sway me.” She turned her head, her eyes locking onto him. “You asking me this… it seems you aren’t exactly interested in the identity politics of the Infected either.”

Her question carried the stiff cadence of an interrogation, but the grunt just shrugged, indifferent. “Can all that political talk actually put food in our stomachs or give us a warm bed?”

Nine fell silent. The distant rumble of the city’s mobile plates seemed to echo in the cramped room. “Why did you join Reunion, then?” she asked, a trace of hesitation bleeding into her tone.

“Because I had nowhere else to go.” He let out a dry, rattling cough. “But speaking of which, if we hadn’t marched on this city, would you still be living a normal life?”

Nine turned back to the window, watching the shadows lengthen across the slums. “The purge of the Infected was inevitable. Reunion merely accelerated the timeline.”

“You’ve got a clear head on your shoulders…”

“I’m a refugee from the northern tundras of Ursus,” the grunt muttered, staring at his scuffed boots. “The lord of my hometown used to be pretty lenient with the Infected. But then a new noble took over, and everything went to hell. People started dying in droves, so we ran. We fled into the frozen wastelands with no food, no water. Half of us died out there in the snow. Now, another batch has died here in Lungmen. If Yosef dies too, then everyone from my village is gone.”

Yosef. The man he had mentioned earlier, the one dragged away into the alleys by those terrifying figures in black cloaks.

Nine’s brow furrowed. “Why are you telling me this?”

Another hollow shrug. “I don’t think I have much time left. But you… you look like you can survive. I’m telling you so that when I die, I won’t just disappear without a trace. Someone will know.” He paused, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. “Sorry… do you happen to know a painless way to die?”

“…What are you talking about?” The crease between Nine’s eyebrows deepened.

“Hmm? Ah… my bad. Just talking nonsense.” He pushed himself off the wall, shaking his head as if to clear the morbid thoughts. “Anyway, the L.G.D. is going to sweep this sector soon. We need to evacuate.”

“To where?”

“Uh… depends on how things look out there. There’s always somewhere to run. Oh, right, you Lungmen folks are pretty attached to your home turf, aren’t you? If you don’t want to leave, I won’t force you.” He stepped toward the doorway, peering out into the dimly lit corridor to check for patrols. “You coming? The coast is clear for now.”

“Before we go…” Nine stood up, adjusting the collar of her coat. “Can you accompany me somewhere first?”

“Huh? Sure, where? We’ll have to make it quick, though, or we’ll lose the main force.”

“The Drainage System.”

“Ch’en…”

“Ch’en?”

“Pokkai Dragon!!!”

Swire’s piercing shout shattered Ch’en’s train of thought, ringing in her ears like a flashbang.

“Are you trying to deafen me, Char Siu Cat?” Ch’en winced, digging a pinky finger into her ear. Over the past few days of joint operations, her auditory lifespan had been slashed by at least half a decade thanks to the feline’s vocal cords.

“Where is your head at?” Swire crossed her arms, her tail lashing irritably behind her. “I was just trying to discuss our next deployment. How about we—”

A sharp beep from Ch’en’s encrypted communicator cut the feline officer off mid-sentence.

“Looks like I’ll have to trouble you to step away again, Miss Swire,” Ch’en snapped back, her irritation matching Swire’s—until her eyes flicked down to the caller ID.

The screen displayed a single, simple code name: Only-1.

“How is your timing always this infuriating? The second I have something important to say, your little radio goes off.” Swire rolled her eyes, but then she caught the sudden rigidity in Ch’en’s posture. Her ears twitched. “Is it that informant of yours?”

Ch’en gave a curt nod. “Since you know, shoo. I’ll buy you fish balls next time.”

“Hey! Do I look like a toddler you can just bribe with street food?!” Swire huffed, her cheeks puffing out indignantly. Despite her complaints, she turned on her heel and marched a respectful distance away, giving Ch’en privacy.

Pressing the receiver to her ear, Ch’en turned her back to the bustling street. “This is Ch’en.”

Static hissed for several long seconds. Finally, a flat, emotionless female voice filtered through the earpiece.

“…New Reunion forces are moving up from the lower levels of the Slums. They call themselves the Yeti Squadron. They specialize in structural destruction and freezing Arts. You need to be careful.”

Ch’en committed the tactical data to memory, her expression hardening. “Understood.” She lowered her voice, glancing around to ensure no one was eavesdropping. “Only-1, listen to me. There is a special task force currently operating in the Slums, transferring the Infected. Do not engage them unless absolutely necessary.”

Silence hung heavy on the line. When the informant finally replied, her tone carried a strange, distant weight, as if she had just realized something deep.

Ch’en brushed past the pause, shifting to protocol. “Only-1, why did you miss the scheduled check-in earlier?”

“I was thinking about a few things. I’ve mostly figured them out now. I am going to see for myself… and then, I will leave Lungmen to you.”

Ch’en’s grip on the communicator tightened. The phrasing was wrong. It didn’t sound like a tactical report; it sounded like a farewell. “What? I don’t understand. What exactly are you going to do?”

“Ch’en… I am going to take some Infected out of here. Out of Lungmen. Tomorrow, at this exact time.”

Before Ch’en could process the treasonous implication, the voice continued.

“Ch’en Hui-chieh. You once told me you hoped for a future where we wouldn’t have to pursue justice on the edge of a blade. I believe you can achieve that. But I can’t wait anymore. And they can’t wait anymore…”

“Nine! Calm down!” Ch’en barked into the radio, completely abandoning the code name. The mask of the informant had already slipped the moment the other woman used her full name.

“I am very calm, Ch’en Hui-chieh. I don’t think I have ever been this calm in my entire life. I’ve seen those special forces you warned me about. Now, I am going to go have a talk with them. That is all. Wish me luck…”

Click.

The line went dead.

In the cramped apartment room miles away, Nine lowered her radio. She shook her head slowly, then looked at the Ursus grunt waiting by the door. “Let’s go. We’re going to find your people.”

The grunt blinked, intimidated by the lingering tension in the air. “Your friend… she’s got quite a temper.”

“She used to be even more explosive. Honestly, I expected her to yell louder.” Nine let out a soft breath, pushing the memories aside.

Back on the street, Swire watched Ch’en lower the communicator. She sauntered back over, circling the Lungmen Guard Department officer twice, her eyes narrowed in scrutiny. She clicked her tongue. “Lovers’ quarrel? I could hear you shouting from over there.”

“…Something like that.” Ch’en took a deep, steadying breath, burying her turmoil under a layer of professional ice. “Swire, I need you to take over as acting commander.”

Swire stopped pacing.

“I need to leave the team for a while,” Ch’en stated.

“Where to?” Swire asked, surprisingly dropping her usual argumentative tone. She didn’t ask why.

“The Drainage System.”

“Fine. Just don’t forget what you promised.”

“I won’t.”

Meanwhile, several blocks away.

“Mr. Kai, haven’t you found it yet?” Amiya asked, tilting her head.

Rhodes Island had been trailing the L.G.D. advance nearly to the heart of the Slums, yet Kai had spent the entire march peering into dark alleys, checking rooftops, and kicking over crates like a man looking for a lost set of keys.

At first, Amiya assumed he was just trying to find a secluded spot to chug a Sanity Potion, but his frantic pacing suggested he was genuinely searching for someone.

“Tsk, this doesn’t make any sense. It defies all logic. Why haven’t I triggered a single encounter?” Kai muttered to himself, completely ignoring Amiya’s question as he stared down an empty side street in deep gamer-induced self-doubt.

“Hey, Amiya is talking to you.” Blaze cracked her knuckles, stepping up behind him. Before Kai could react, she clamped both hands onto the sides of his head and drove her knuckles into his temples, grinding them in rapid, merciless circles. “Show some respect to the CEO of Rhodes Island, yeah?!”

“Ah! Ow, ow, ow! Stop! I’m not sneaking meds, I swear! Hiss… ow, let go!” Kai thrashed, yelping as Blaze’s brute strength threatened to pop his skull like a grape.

“Alright, Operator Blaze, please let Mr. Kai go. He didn’t mean to ignore me.” Amiya offered a gentle smile, finally stepping in to stop the torture—though her intervention came just a few seconds too late to save Kai from a massive headache.

“Hiss…” Kai rubbed his throbbing temples, wincing. “Amiya is the best. Though it would be even better if you could hit the pause button on her a little faster next time.”

Amiya sighed softly, selectively filtering out the second half of his complaint. “So, what exactly are you looking for?”

“People,” Kai replied, his mind still trying to calculate the missing spawn rates. “But I haven’t spotted a single one. Either they’re actively avoiding my aggro radius, or they’ve already despawned from the map. Amiya, I might need to break off from the party for a bit to track them down.”

“Leave the team? Right now?” Amiya’s brow furrowed in concern. “Where are you going?”

Kai adjusted his jacket, looking toward the darker depths of the city’s underbelly. “To the Drainage System, of course.”

[Rhodes’s Note: “Pokkai” (Puk-gaai) is a common Cantonese profanity that literally translates to “falling onto the street,” often used as a curse meaning “drop dead” or “go to hell.” “Char Siu” refers to Cantonese roast pork, making “Char Siu Cat” Ch’en’s culturally specific, derogatory nickname for the feline Swire.]