Arknights: The Prophet of Penguin Logistics — Chapter 54

Chapter 54: I Will Respond With a Song (Part 2)

“Look at her, she’s truly charming, isn’t she?”

“I don’t really have a stance on your preferences, so knock yourself out.”

Lynn shrugged at Lappland. She had dragged a stool right up to his hospital bed, her eyes still lingering on the empty doorway.

“Personally, I think your chances are pretty slim,” Lynn continued, his tone dry. “She doesn’t seem particularly interested in you, so you’ll have to put in some serious effort if you want to win her over. That is, assuming she doesn’t mind the whole dynamic.”

“Don’t be so serious. I’m just joking.” Lappland chuckled, the sound carrying a raspy, dangerous edge. “You know I wouldn’t do anything to Texas. Her affairs are her own to handle; it’s meaningless for anyone else to intervene. Besides, Texas might look like a calm, rational person, but underneath it all, she’s actually incredibly naive, you know? With the right atmosphere and the right words, it would be dangerously easy to make her fall for you.”

“That angel told you the same thing, didn’t she? Don’t let appearances fool you. Texas only manages to live so leisurely because she has people covering her blind spots. For example, if she knew the actual state of your body, she would be consumed by guilt. She wouldn’t say a word about it, of course, but behind the scenes, she would become completely obedient to you.”

Lappland crossed her legs, leaning back as she watched Lynn scribble idly on a notepad resting on his lap. A sharp, almost predatory smile curved her lips.

“Even if you asked her to die for you, she just might do it. That woman has a deeply morbid sense of camaraderie. So don’t bully her too much, alright?”

“From where I’m sitting, it seems like I’m the one who’s constantly getting bullied.” Lynn didn’t even look up from his paper. “I haven’t done a single thing, yet all of you keep looking at me like you’re waiting for a theatrical performance to start. It puts me in a rather difficult position.”

“Because if things actually happened, the show would be over, wouldn’t it? It’s much better to draw it out, to hold back a little. That applies to you, and it applies to us.” Lappland’s silver tail flicked lazily behind her. “That angel seems to understand the game a little bit, but Texas… she completely trusts the judgment of those she lets in. I genuinely worry about how she’s going to survive in this society later on. What is she going to do if she just hands her trust over so easily?”

“I think you have far more pressing things to worry about regarding yourself.”

Watching Lappland wag her tail with that insufferably smug look on her face, Lynn truly couldn’t fathom where her boundless confidence came from.

Actually, that wasn’t entirely fair. If she wasn’t constantly playing the part of an unhinged fool, Lappland would likely outclass everyone else in the room. Her observational skills were terrifyingly sharp—enough to deconstruct Originium Arts on the fly. Her combat intuition was monstrous, backed by what could only be described as masterful, lethal technique. And beneath the madness, she operated on a very distinct, rigid set of personal principles.

Case in point: no one had told her a single thing about his medical records. Yet, based entirely on the duration of his hospitalization and his physical reaction to the fall, Lappland had instantly deduced that his body was fundamentally defective by the standards of Terra. She had been the first one to rush to his side, only relaxing her guard when the ambulance finally arrived. And when he woke up, it was Lappland who had chased everyone else out of the room just to interrogate him about his physical condition.

After extracting the truth from him, she hadn’t said a word of pity. But her movements around him had subtly shifted, losing some of their jagged edges. It was her own twisted way of showing goodwill.

“…Is that really all there is to it?”

“My body?”

The manic smile on Lappland’s face slowly dissolved, leaving behind a chilling, quiet intensity. She stared intently at his frail frame.

“No matter how much you train, you will never be able to leap across rooftops. No matter how desperately you cling to life, there is no physical way for you to live to two hundred years old. Even if you employ the most advanced medical science to stretch your lifespan, your cells will ultimately just collapse in on themselves. Is the future of your body truly set in stone like this?”

“…Probably.”

Lynn looked at her darkened expression. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words caught in his throat.

It was an incredibly bizarre disconnect. Back on Earth, living to be a hundred years old with a clear mind was a massive victory, something worth throwing a celebration for. But here? Seeing the sorrowful, almost pitying looks on the faces of everyone who found out his ‘limits’, Lynn felt a deep, absurd sense of dissonance. They looked at him like he was a tragic, terminal patient. It made him feel as though he was somehow letting them down by not living to see two centuries.

Let’s be reasonable here. He was a normal guy who could manage a decent jump, survive a drop from a fifth-floor window without instantly dying, spar lightly, hold his own with cold weapons, and had a doctor’s guarantee of living to a hundred. In what universe was that not a winning hand? Yet, the moment he brought those stats to Terra, his lifespan was treated as an absolute tragedy. Everyone was acting like they were attending his preemptive funeral. Even if he wanted to comfort them by explaining that he was actually quite long-lived by his own standards, the words felt impossible to explain.

What was he supposed to say? That he was a transmigrator from another dimension? He’d be strapped to a psychiatric bed before the day was out.

“Probably, huh… probably…”

Lappland rubbed her hands together, the friction loud in the quiet hospital room. She let out a long, heavy sigh as she looked down at him. Then, as quickly as it had vanished, that aggressive, sharp-toothed grin snapped back into place.

“Then you’d better not go dying from something stupid before your time is up. You already look like a fragile mayfly. Constantly hanging around active combat zones is a terrible idea for a cripple like you. Just pay a little attention to that worm-like body of yours and stay home like a good boy.”

“That was exactly my plan from the very beginning. You guys were the ones who insisted on dragging me out, remember?”

Looking at this revolving door of beast-girls, their moods shifting faster than the weather, Lynn genuinely felt like every single one of them had a screw loose.

He had just wanted to sit at home and write his novels. They were the ones who had forced him out the door to do delivery runs and combat training. And now, after all that, they were blaming him for going out too much? What kind of twisted logic was that? If he was actually the type to go out diligently, would he have spent months holed up in his Lungmen apartment like a hermit?

Honestly, if Texas, Croissant, and Exusiai hadn’t practically kidnapped him from his desk, he wouldn’t have taken half a step outside. His precious novel drafts had been burned to ash, his home was destroyed, and now that he finally had a quiet moment to start writing again, he was being ordered to stay indoors. The sheer hypocrisy of it all was staggering.

Realizing the massive hole in her logic, Lappland, who had been leaning forward in a grand, preachy posture, suddenly froze. A rare look of awkwardness flashed across her face. She coughed twice into her fist and waved her hand dismissively.

“Alright, alright, the joke ends here.”

“Is it really okay for you to just declare everything up to this point a joke to save face?” Seeing her suddenly try to act serious, Lynn raised an eyebrow. “So, what exactly do you want to say now? Just for the record, I’m not planning on doing anything weird like drugging Texas’s drink.”

“No, I’m being entirely serious right now.”

Lappland waved off his comment, leaning in closer. Her silver eyes locked onto his, stripping away all the previous layers of madness and mockery.

“I want to ask you… what is your ideal?” Lappland’s voice dropped to a quiet, intense whisper. “What is your true ideal?”