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ArabicArknights: The Prophet of Penguin Logistics — Chapter 13
Chapter 13: Not the Burly Brothers?
Lynn’s reason for inviting the two Blacksteel operators inside was actually incredibly simple.
The room’s ecosystem was dangerously unbalanced. There were simply too many women and not nearly enough men.
Back when he was just a shameless freeloader crashing at Exusiai’s place, the dynamic had been manageable. They would chat idly from their respective bunk beds, and when it was time to sleep, he just slapped on an eye mask and called it a night. Nothing complicated.
Then came the sudden ambush, the subsequent trap, and a spike in adrenaline that left his nerves completely frayed. Even earlier this morning, his mind had still been clouded by a lingering alcohol-induced haze.
But now, as the fog in his head finally cleared, Lynn took a good look at his surroundings and realized just how suffocating the atmosphere had become. Was Penguin Logistics always this skewed in its gender ratio?
Over on the couch, the idol Sora—a ridiculously cute blonde Lupo (though her ears always looked a little questionable)—was currently clinging to Texas with a mournful, pleading expression.
Texas, the stoic and undisputed harem protagonist of the group, handled Sora’s relentless chattering and physical affection with practiced ease, occasionally shooting a cool glance toward Exusiai.
Exusiai herself had just sobered up. After spending a good chunk of the morning teasing Lynn, the Sankta had apparently tuckered herself out. She was currently slumped in a chair, an eye mask pulled over her face, looking absolutely blissful as she ascended to dreamland. It was entirely unclear if she was actually asleep or just ignoring the world.
As for Croissant, who had jolted awake not long ago, her sleeping habits left nothing to the imagination. She was sprawled out with zero restraint, her head thrown back in a silent, open-mouthed roar, complete with a rhythmic snot bubble expanding and popping at her nose. She looked like she had been ripped straight out of a Sunday comic strip.
Every single one of them was a remarkably beautiful girl, far above the average standard, and they all seemed genuinely kind-hearted.
Which was exactly why Lynn felt like an alien sitting among them.
It wasn’t that he was some kind of masochist who preferred harsh conditions. It was just that being completely surrounded by this level of overwhelming aesthetic and feminine energy made him acutely uncomfortable.
Think about it from his perspective: he had spent the last two days feeling deeply ashamed of freeloading. He finally lands a job, only to discover that his entire team consists of stunningly gorgeous women. Worse, the safehouse was a mixed-gender dormitory. The cramped room was littered with personal items. Lynn didn’t even dare to let his eyes drift toward the delicate laundry drying on the windowsill.
While they didn’t have a massive hoard of cosmetics, there were still bottles of foundation, moisturizer, and makeup scattered across the tables. On top of that, it was summer. Everyone was dressed in light, breathable clothing, and the enclosed space was thick with the lingering, sweet scent of floral shampoo and perfume.
When he was drunk, he hadn’t noticed. But now, fully sober, he had to ask himself: how was a normal guy supposed to survive in an environment like this?
Desperate for an anchor, Lynn glanced out the window at the two Blacksteel guards standing watch outside. Just looking at their silhouettes provided an instant wave of relief. Tough, gritty men. Sure, they were a little on the shorter side, but they radiated pure, unadulterated security.
They were decked out in heavy tactical armor, carrying sturdy ballistic shields and massive greatswords, with sidearms and tactical flashlights strapped to their thighs. Their standard-issue stances and gleaming ID tags screamed reliability.
He noticed the two heavily armored figures quietly mumbling to each other, but Lynn brushed it off. It was perfectly normal for tough military bros to shoot the breeze and gossip on duty.
Besides, things were quiet right now. It felt wrong to leave them sweating out in the hallway.
Finding a lull in the room’s chaotic energy, Lynn stepped toward the door and called the two guards inside. He desperately needed to dilute the room’s estrogen levels with some solid, masculine grit.
“It’s pretty hot out there, and standing guard in that gear can’t be easy,” Lynn said, pulling the door wide open with a warm, incredibly sincere smile. “Come on in and take a load off. The living room is spacious enough. I can brew some black tea if you’d like?”
The two armored figures paused, exchanging a brief look through their visors. The slightly shorter one gave a polite nod.
“Thank you. We’ll take you up on that.”
Wait.
Lynn froze, his hand still resting on the doorknob. That voice didn’t sound right.
What happened to the tough military bros?
Hearing the soft, distinctly feminine voice echo from inside the heavy helmet, Lynn felt his heart plummet straight into his stomach.
He watched, eyes wide with mounting horror, as the two “stout men” reached up and unlatched their helmets. With a hiss of depressurization, they pulled the heavy headgear free, shaking out their hair to reveal two stunningly beautiful faces.
One looked lively and mischievous; the other was stern and reserved. They offered him polite nods before stepping past his petrified form and taking a seat on the living room sofa.
The stern one—a Vouivre girl with smooth blue horns named Liskarm—maintained a rigid, professional posture. Even while sitting, her back was straight, her massive shield resting against her knee, perfectly positioned to block any sudden attack.
Her partner, a brown-haired Vulpo named Franka, was entirely the opposite. She casually tossed her heavy sword to the side, leaned forward, and propped her chin in her hand. Her fox ears twitched as she looked up at Lynn, a highly amused, flirtatious smirk playing on her lips.
“Hmm? The young man looks a little disappointed,” Franka teased, her eyes gleaming. “Is there something about us that displeases you?”
“Ah, no…” Lynn swallowed hard, trying to recover his shattered worldview. “You two just look… unexpectedly young.”
‘I thought you were two fat guys!’ he screamed internally.
Realizing that the room’s feminine scent had just intensified by another two degrees, Lynn took a deep, steadying breath and turned away to hunt for the black tea.
Searching through his fragmented memories of the morning, he recalled bringing back a few unopened bottles from a convenience store run. He didn’t have to look far. Spotting the portable mini-fridge in the corner, he yanked it open, grabbed three bottles of iced black tea, and tossed one to each of the Blacksteel operators before cracking his own open.
These two elites from Blacksteel International were a study in contrasts.
Franka raised an eyebrow in thanks, twisted the cap off with a sharp crack, and practically chugged the icy liquid, letting out a loud, satisfied gasp.
Liskarm shot her partner a look of pure, unadulterated disdain before carefully opening her own bottle. She took a slow, measured sip, her eyes constantly scanning the room, never once dropping her vigilance.
As Lynn watched them, he couldn’t help but notice a subtle movement. When they had sat down, they had deliberately bumped their hips against each other—a tiny, silent physical jab that spoke volumes about their dynamic.
‘…Their superiors definitely got tired of dealing with them and paired them up so they’d cancel each other out,’ Lynn deduced silently.
“Ah~ Iced black tea really hits the spot,” Franka sighed happily, wiping a drop of condensation from her lip. She shifted her gaze back to Lynn, her smile sharpening. “Alright, young man. If you have any questions or motives, just lay them out. You wouldn’t invite us in here just to be nice, right?”
“If I didn’t have a reason, I really would have just wanted you to rest,” Lynn replied dryly.
Who could have predicted that the burly bodyguards were actually two more young ladies?
Seeing Franka’s utterly unconvinced expression, Lynn sighed and cleared his throat.
“Ahem. Actually, I just wanted to casually ask about the current state of the outside world. What are the local prices like? What’s the standard of living? If someone were to travel to other mobile cities, what should they watch out for? Just general information. If you could throw in some of your personal field experiences, that would be perfect.”
Franka tilted her head, her fox ears swiveling forward. “Hmm? Why the sudden interest in the outside world? Planning to jump ship and leave Penguin Logistics?”
“No, no! Absolutely not!” Lynn practically jumped, his survival instincts flaring.
He suddenly felt the distinct, piercing weight of several glares drilling into the back of his head from the direction of the Penguin Logistics crew. The air pressure in the room dropped instantly.
“Curiosity! It’s just curiosity,” Lynn babbled, waving his hands frantically at the two Blacksteel operators. “I’m actually planning to write a novel, so I’m just gathering reference material! To me, seasoned professionals like you two—capable and beautiful—are the perfect subjects for an interview. But if it’s classified, we don’t have to talk about it!”
He couldn’t exactly admit that staying in this estrogen-filled madhouse was going to give him an ulcer and he was plotting an escape route.
Sensing the murderous intent from behind him slowly dissipate, Lynn let out a quiet breath of relief. He looked back at Franka and Liskarm, genuinely hoping they would throw him a bone and give him some decent worldbuilding material.
The two Blacksteel operators exchanged another long, silent look. After a brief, unspoken argument communicated entirely through eye twitches and subtle shifts in posture, Franka pouted and leaned back.
Liskarm glanced briefly at the Penguin Logistics logo painted on the wall, then cleared her throat, her expression deadpan and serious.
“What specific information do you require? I will do my best to answer you within the operational bounds permitted by Blacksteel International regulations. However, please refrain from asking overly sensitive questions regarding corporate security. I hope you understand.”
“No problem at all. I completely understand. Let’s start with…”
Even though he was using Penguin Logistics’ name as a shield to get this interview, Lynn really did intend to write that novel. Pushing the chaotic reality of his living situation out of his mind, he pulled up a chair and seriously began his interrogation.