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ArabicArknights: The Prophet of Penguin Logistics — Chapter 17
Chapter 17: Showdown
After a chaotic afternoon of fooling around, Sora eventually had to take her leave alongside Franka and Liskarm. Her primary career was being an idol, which meant her schedule rarely belonged to her. Being able to carve out even a few hours to lounge around the Penguin Logistics safehouse was already a rare luxury. Whenever she wasn’t actively deployed on field missions, she was dragged from venue to venue, endlessly rehearsing, singing, and performing.
Once the door clicked shut behind Sora, the previously boisterous dormitory settled into a comfortable quiet. The remaining crew immediately got to work. They swept through the messy living room, clearing away the scattered magazines and empty snack wrappers, eventually carving out a dedicated space for Lynn. Afterward, a quick supply run was made to stock up on daily necessities.
They sat Lynn down and carefully outlined the ground rules and schedules. Up until today, this space had been exclusively inhabited by women; the sudden introduction of a man into their daily routine was a jarring shift. Lynn felt entirely out of his element, and the girls were equally unaccustomed to the new dynamic.
They established three hard rules and negotiated the division of bathroom times and common areas. Everyone knew these strict boundaries would inevitably dissolve into meaningless suggestions once they all grew comfortable with each other, but they were a necessary buffer for the awkward transition period. With that out of the way, Lynn finally settled in.
Aside from Sora, who harbored a few minor grievances as a part-time auxiliary member, and Texas, who maintained her usual stoic silence, Croissant and Exusiai were overwhelmingly welcoming. Exusiai’s cheerful hospitality was simply her nature, while Croissant’s enthusiastic attitude was rooted in pure tactical pragmatism. Having a stable, reliable anchor providing support from the rear was infinitely better than holding the frontline entirely alone. Croissant knew she was sturdy, but she was far from invincible. The more capable teammates watching her back, the better their odds of survival.
Naturally, Lynn constantly downplayed his own terrifying accuracy, waving it off as mere luck and nothing to be taken seriously. However, in the eyes of Croissant and the others, this was just the humble deflection of a true professional. At the Forte’s loud insistence, a massive hotpot party was hastily assembled in the center of the dorm to officially celebrate Lynn’s arrival.
Croissant and Lynn shared a dangerous mutual principle: neither would leave the table until they were completely plastered. Halfway through the boiling feast, both of them were already flushed red, slurring their words, calling each other sworn brothers, and loudly bragging about how they would take a bullet for one another.
As the only remaining sober person in the room, Texas quietly caught Exusiai’s eye, gave her a meaningful look, and slipped away, heading up the stairs to the rooftop alone.
The biting night breeze of Lungmen immediately washed over her, causing the Lupo’s ears to twitch at the sudden chill. She walked to the edge of the roof, leaning against the cold railing, and gazed out at the brilliantly lit, sprawling cityscape. Texas, a woman burdened by a heavy and mysterious past, stared at the neon veins of the noisy metropolis. She reached into her pocket, slowly drawing out a cigarette and placing it between her lips. It was an old habit; whenever she encountered a knot she couldn’t easily untangle, she needed the smoke.
Looking at the glittering horizon, she felt an inexplicable, creeping tension tightening her chest regarding the conversation that was about to happen.
Based on the current situation, everything was already a foregone conclusion. Whether it was his attitude, his behavior, or the sheer scale of the events unfolding around them, the truth was already set in stone. The only variable left was Texas’s own choice. Yet, for some reason, she was deeply reluctant to make it.
It was the cost of knowing.
Texas pulled out a metal lighter. She cupped her hand to shield the small flame from the wind, lit the tip of the cigarette, and took a long, deep drag. She exhaled, watching the wisp of white smoke dissolve instantly into the dark sky.
A few moments later, her ears twitched again. The heavy metal door behind her creaked open.
“Yo, Texas. What do you need me for? Did the boss drop an urgent job on us?”
“…No. I just came up here to ask you a question.”
Texas turned around, her amber eyes quietly studying Exusiai, who was tilting her head with a bright, curious expression.
“How long do you plan to keep it a secret?” Texas asked, her voice flat and even over the howling wind. “About Lynn. About the Prophet. How long are you going to hide it?”
Exusiai blinked, her smile unwavering. “What are you talking about? What happened to Lynn?”
“He is the creator of the Lazarus File.”
Texas watched her closely. ‘If only you had just said you didn’t know,’she thought.’How wonderful that would have been.’
Under Texas’s quiet, disappointed gaze, the bright, carefree smile on Exusiai’s face gradually began to slip. The shadows of the rooftop seemed to catch the edges of her expression, darkening it. She tried to force the smile back, but it carried a strange, bitter weight that made Texas hate the fact that she had forced this confrontation. But even though she hated doing it, she didn’t regret it.
“Is that so… was it really that obvious?” Exusiai murmured, her voice losing its usual energetic bounce. “When did you figure it out?”
“The attack was when I first got suspicious,” Texas replied, taking another slow drag of her cigarette. The smoke filled her lungs, a harsh burn that matched the unspoken ache in her chest. “And when Officer Ch’en arrived at the scene, I was absolutely certain.”
She lowered the cigarette, letting the ash catch the wind.
“The Prophet Lynn. He is the creator of the Lazarus File, isn’t he? Those so-called novel settings, those character design drafts he leaves lying around… they are all pieces of the Lazarus File. He isn’t writing fiction at all. He is writing books of prophecy. And prophecies don’t need a narrative structure; they just need followers to execute them. Right?”
“Ah, haha… it’s really not as sinister as it sounds,” Exusiai said, waving a hand dismissively, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “I truly believe the Prophet doesn’t have any ill intentions.”
But under Texas’s unwavering, piercing stare, Exusiai’s forcibly maintained cheerful facade finally fractured, shattering completely into something far more solemn.
The two women looked at each other in heavy silence. The only sound was the chilling wind whipping against the hems of their jackets. After what felt like an eternity, Exusiai let out a long, quiet sigh. She walked forward, leaning her elbows against the railing beside Texas, and looked out at the glittering night view.
“Texas,” she asked softly. “Do you believe in God?”
“…What?”
“Do you believe that somewhere high above us, there is a great will watching over everything we do?”
“I don’t believe in gods,” Texas answered coldly. “If there were gods, why would they allow the people of this earth to suffer so endlessly?”
“Then let me rephrase the question, Texas. Do you believe in fate?” Exusiai turned her head to look at her. “The kind of fate where you are walking completely alone in a barren wilderness, and then, one day, you suddenly look up and realize the light is right there. Your entire mission is right there. The very meaning of your life is standing right in front of you. Do you believe in that kind of fate?”
“I don’t.”
“But I do.”
Looking at Texas, whose hair was slightly ruffled by the wind, Exusiai spoke with a terrifyingly serene sincerity.
“We Sankta believe that fate will always descend upon a person when the time is right. When that moment comes, a person will finally realize what their innate, God-given mission truly is. To be honest, I used to hate that idea. In the beginning, I just liked chasing trends. I liked pop music, I liked the smell of gunpowder, I liked living an interesting, thrilling life. Even though I am devout, I always knew I wasn’t like ordinary Laterano citizens.”
“You…” Texas started, opening her mouth to speak, but ultimately closed it. She just watched her partner calmly, waiting for her to finish.
“Everyone back home likes to live so rigidly,” Exusiai continued, her eyes reflecting the distant city lights. “Everyone adheres to strict rules and regulations dictated by dogma, treating every little thing as sacred and inviolable. Even when they do things explicitly permitted by the scriptures, their actions are stiff, compromised by their own obsession with the rules. I grew up suffocating in that environment.”
She smiled, a genuine, quiet expression. “Leaving Laterano was partly to train myself, sure, but mostly it was just to escape that cage. I didn’t think that was my destiny, and it certainly wasn’t the life I wanted. But even living this wild life here at Penguin Logistics, I often felt this lingering trace of emptiness. A void in my chest. I knew my true destiny hadn’t arrived yet. It really was like walking alone in the dark, with no light anywhere on the horizon.”
Exusiai turned fully toward Texas, her halo glowing softly in the gloom.
“And then, I saw the Prophet. He gave me an entirely new meaning. He is my light, my candle, my soul. He is the absolute enlightenment of my destiny.”
Her voice dropped to a reverent whisper. “When I first met him, when we sat down and discussed our mutual understandings of the world… I felt it right then. I thought, ‘Ah, it’s him. He is my destiny.'”
Texas stared at the Sankta beside her, feeling a bizarre sense of absurdity wash over her. “So… it’s actually just love at first sight? I didn’t think you would be so…”
But Exusiai immediately shook her head, her expression dead serious as she refuted the Lupo’s assumption.
“No. Rather than saying I fell in love with him at first sight, it’s more like I finally found a piece of my soul that had been missing for my entire life. All of my doubts can be answered by him. All of my questions can be clarified by him. I feel an incredible, overwhelming sense of peace whenever I am by his side. So I trust him. I trust him exactly as much as I trust myself.”
Texas exhaled a thin stream of smoke. “You only ever act like a true Laterano zealot at times like this.”
“Ah, hahaha! Perhaps I do.” Exusiai scratched the back of her head, her familiar, bright laughter returning for a brief moment.
“I don’t really know what romance, or love at first sight, truly feels like,” Exusiai admitted softly. “But if this feeling is love, then I suppose I might indeed love him very much. I know that the things he is doing will have a massive, catastrophic impact on this world, and I don’t ask him to explain himself. Because truly great people always influence everything around them—they make the world dance to their tune, or they plunge it into despondency. And the lambs can only choose whether to obey or not. So, I won’t speak out against him. But I also won’t stop anyone else from trying. So, Texas… what will you do?”
Texas looked at the glowing halo above her friend’s head, then down at the burning cherry of her cigarette.
“You are a Sankta,” Texas said quietly. “And I am a Lupo.”
It was a simple statement, but the meaning was absolute. Lupos never betray their pack. They never betray their friends.
Looking at Exusiai, whose eyes widened in sudden, genuine surprise, Texas simply shook her head. She dropped the cigarette onto the concrete, crushing the embers beneath the heel of her boot.
“Come on,” Texas called out, turning her back to the wind and heading for the door. “There are still two drunkards waiting for us downstairs. It’s time we go deal with them.”
Exusiai stared at her back for a second before a massive, brilliant grin broke across her face. “Right behind you!”