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ArabicArknights: The Prophet of Penguin Logistics — Chapter 42
Chapter 42: Refusal
“What Lungmen needs is your ability. If you were to become a vigilante or an auxiliary officer, your talent would undoubtedly be an immense asset to the city.”
Sipping her tea, Officer Ch’en finished writing down an order on a slip of paper and handed it to the waiter waiting just outside the sliding door. She then turned her calm, measured gaze back to Lynn, who kept his head lowered on the opposite side of the sizzling barbecue grill.
“If your intuition is as accurate as the incident reports indicate, you could assist Lungmen in investigating specific threats when the need arises. With your help, we could resolve the most critical cases with unmatched speed. It is the most logical course of action.”
“But, I…”
“If you are concerned about it disrupting your daily routine, we can arrange for dual employment. This is the absolute best condition I can secure for you. You can provide support services to the L.G.D. while maintaining your current position at Penguin Logistics. If a particularly tricky case requires your attention, you would be obligated to accept it unless you are on an urgent mission for your company. In return, you will be granted temporary law enforcement authority during emergencies, allowing you to act without waiting for bureaucratic approval. What do you think?”
Ch’en set her teacup down, the ceramic clinking softly against the wooden table.
“There is no need to rush your answer. We have plenty of time to consider the logistics. I will wait patiently for your final reply.”
Officer Ch’en looked at Lynn. Her expression remained perfectly composed, yet beneath her professional exterior lay an inexplicable sense of trust.
Outside the walls of the barbecue restaurant, the streets of Lungmen were bustling with noise and neon lights, but this private room remained secluded, elegant, and heavy with silence. Coming to eat barbecue alone was usually a solitary, quiet affair, but having a second person sitting across the table now made the atmosphere feel strangely loud. Ch’en calmly picked up a piece of freshly grilled meat with her chopsticks and placed it on his plate, clearly wanting him to settle his nerves, but the gesture only made his thoughts spiral further into chaos.
Looking through the misty, savory steam rising from the charcoal grill, Lynn felt that Lungmen’s authorities were moving far too hastily.
When it came to official government entities, Lynn maintained a strict policy of non-contact and deep distrust. This was not born from spending too much time reading conspiracy theories on the internet, but from the simple fact that he was not a native of Lungmen. As an outsider, he knew he likely could not rely on the personal safety guarantees and legal protections afforded to actual citizens by the Lungmen government.
also, while Lynn did enjoy a life with a slight edge of danger, he firmly believed that such stimulation needed to remain controllable and strictly within a manageable range. He did not fully trust his own intuition. Intuition was a gamble. It was the kind of phenomenon where, even if you flipped a coin and got ten thousand tails in a row, you could never guarantee the next flip would also be tails.
Logic, skills, and refined techniques were entirely different. With technique, no matter how many times you executed a move, you knew exactly what the outcome would be. That was the fundamental divide between intuition and true capability. And that was exactly what terrified Lynn. Relying on a so-called gut feeling to adjudicate life-or-death situations and pass judgment on others was a completely foolish choice.
It was stupid, illogical, disorganized, and entirely idealistic. It might be effective in the short term, but it could never be relied upon forever. When a heaven-sent gift like that suddenly vanished, it usually signaled the immediate arrival of death. That was exactly why Lynn had always wanted to quietly slip away from the dangerous frontlines of Penguin Logistics and just write novels. Compared to dodging Originium arts and gang violence, writing novels was safe, controllable, and did not require a rigid mastery of this world’s brutal combat mechanics. It was the perfect escape.
But now, his intuition had drawn the gaze of the Lungmen authorities, and that changed the equation entirely. At Penguin Logistics, the atmosphere was loose. Everyone was a friend. They could come and go as they pleased; missions would go smoothly with his help, but the crew was more than capable of surviving without him. The L.G.D. auxiliary system, however, was a rigid machine.
Rights were directly equivalent to obligations, and Lynn knew deep down that he had not reached a level where he was qualified to shoulder those obligations.
“…I’m sorry, I cannot accept.”
“Why? Are you worried about your companions? I assure you, this will not conflict with your work at Penguin Logistics.”
“No, I’m just wondering why Lungmen trusts me so much. Why put your faith in someone who survives purely by guessing? I don’t think that is a normal or healthy way to approach life.”
Watching a rare flicker of surprise cross Officer Ch’en’s face, Lynn slowly shook his head.
“It comes down to responsibility and obligation. If I had actual, tangible abilities, or if I were absolutely certain about the source of my intuition, I would strive to serve you, Officer Ch’en. But right now, I don’t even know why I can predict these things. If it were just my own life on the line, I could ignore the risks. At Penguin Logistics, I just do my best to survive the day. But this is official L.G.D. business. It wouldn’t just be my personal affair anymore; it would involve the lives of dozens, maybe hundreds of innocent people. I am not confident I can always make the right choice.”
Lynn looked down at his hands. “Even with my current work at Penguin Logistics, if I had a choice to just settle down quietly, I wouldn’t be doing it. Rushing headlong into a battlefield relying on nothing but a gut feeling might be exciting for some, but it is deeply irresponsible when the lives of my friends and the trust of others are at stake. I never want to see the day where my ability suddenly fails, and I am left standing in the middle of a tragedy I caused.”
“So, I must refuse this recruitment. If possible, I want to rely on my own wisdom and my own strength to solve problems, not a blind intuition.”
“Officer Ch’en, I am truly honored that you came here personally to invite me, but I cannot accept.”
“Then, to be absolutely clear, you are rejecting the L.G.D.’s recruitment?”
Officer Ch’en sat perfectly upright opposite Lynn. Her expression was completely neutral, showing neither anger nor disappointment as she asked the question. Lynn met her gaze and nodded seriously.
“Yes. Because I haven’t earned the qualifications to hold that kind of power.”
“I cannot tie the lives of innocent people to my so-called intuition. It is an irresponsible act. I have told everyone at Penguin Logistics the exact same thing, and I am telling it to you now, Officer Ch’en. The least trustworthy thing in this entire world is a gut feeling. Even if it proves correct ten thousand times in a row, the ten thousand and first time could result in a disaster. If you ever have questions or need a civilian consultation, I will do my absolute best to help you. But as for joining the force, please forgive me for declining.”
‘Let it be. We shall speak later, Officer Ch’en.’
Watching Ch’en fall into a silent, slightly downcast state, Lynn quietly shook his head, pushed his chair back, and stood up to leave.
He assumed this somewhat strange, fleeting friendship would simply end right here. But just as he pushed the sliding door open and took his first few steps into the hallway, he heard the sharp clatter of the door sliding open again behind him. An inexplicable premonition flared in his mind, causing Lynn to instinctively spin around and snatch his hand out into the empty air.
His fingers closed around a crumpled wad of paper.
“What is this?”
Looking at Officer Ch’en, who had stepped out into the hall just to throw the paper at him, Lynn couldn’t help but ask in confusion.
“A phone number. It is my private line. Just send a text message to confirm your identity when you get back. Didn’t you just say we should help each other?”
Looking at the bewildered expression on Lynn’s face, Officer Ch’en crossed her arms, her eyes softening with a quiet sense of appreciation for the Operator standing before her.
“If you ever run into anything you cannot handle, or if you find yourself in a situation that feels deeply wrong to you, contact me directly using that number. And if I ever have need of your unique perspective, I will contact you.”
“Ah? But I just—”
“You survive by intuition, yet you refused Lungmen’s recruitment because you refuse to trust that very same intuition. I solve my cases using hard logic and evidence, yet I want to trust you based entirely on my intuition. Keep the number. Consider it proof of my own illogical intuition this time. I want to see exactly how far my gut feeling can take me.”
“…Thank you.”
“Go back now. I won’t take up any more of your time.”
Seeing the serious, lingering look on Lynn’s face, Officer Ch’en offered a faint smile and waved her hand dismissively.
She stood in the hallway until she confirmed Lynn had safely left the building. Only then did she drop her hand, turn around, and walk back into the quiet private room, taking her seat by the grill.
…And then, she just sat there, staring blankly at the massive, dazzling array of raw ingredients spread across the table.
Plates were piled high with rich cuts of meat, fresh vegetables, and sliced fruits. It was vastly more food than a single person could ever hope to finish. Facing the mountain of extra dishes, Officer Ch’en couldn’t help but let out a long, quiet sigh. Almost on cue, the waiter approached from the hallway, knocked gently on the open door frame, and asked in a polite, hushed tone.
“The two-person premium steak platter you ordered has arrived, Officer Ch’en. Would you like me to assist you with grilling the meat?”
“No need, I will handle it myself. Just leave the trays on the side table.”
‘Intuition really is entirely unreliable, isn’t it.’
Looking at the lavish meal prepared for two, Officer Ch’en shook her head with a self-deprecating smile. She picked up a piece of meat that had been left on the grill a little too long and placed it in her mouth.
Chewing on the faint, ashy bitterness of the charred meat, she swallowed slowly, washed it down with a sip of warm tea, and sat alone in the quiet room, calmly eating her way through a dinner meant for two.