Arknights: The Prophet of Penguin Logistics — Chapter 56

Chapter 56: Discharged

The time spent confined to a sterile hospital bed was mercifully short; in fact, it only lasted a week.

In truth, Lynn’s injuries were far from life-threatening. If it hadn’t been for the attending doctors’ sheer panic and overly cautious handling of his case, he wouldn’t have even needed to stay for three days. The cushioning capacity of that plastic bag had actually been remarkably high. His primary issue hadn’t been the impact itself, but rather the suffocating weight of Lappland pressing down on him, which had ultimately caused him to black out.

Minor internal organ vibration was child’s play for this world’s advanced medical system. It was precisely because of their excessive caution and worst-case assumptions that Lynn ended up trapped in that ward for seven entire days.

When he was finally discharged, the old department head—a haggard man with distinctly atavistic, beast-like features—clung to his hand and absolutely refused to let go. Tears and snot streamed down the elder’s wrinkled face in a messy display of professional guilt. He kept blubbering about how he was the Representative of the Medical Department, swearing up and down that if Lynn experienced even the slightest discomfort, he should come directly to him. He even insisted on shoving his personal business card into Lynn’s pocket.

Lynn could only sigh inwardly. He wasn’t trying to extort anyone, so why put on such a dramatic performance? He wasn’t some professional medical scammer, and besides, the compensation had already been paid in full. There was nothing left to discuss.

Still, having a high-ranking doctor as an acquaintance—especially one who felt inexplicably guilty toward him—was a net positive. Compared to the cutthroat, complicated environment of his previous life, Lynn was quite satisfied with his current situation.

It was just that, for some unfathomable reason, whenever Lynn tried to show a little basic kindness to the old doctor, the man’s expression only grew more tortured and guilty. It left Lynn completely at a loss for how to interact with these people who loved to overthink every little gesture. But then again, who told him to be a physically frail transmigrator? Being constantly misunderstood and over-analyzed by others was just a passive debuff he had to live with.

Another event worth noting during his stay was a visit from the Lungmen leadership. They had come to ask some routine questions regarding the recent attack by the Infected. The team leader was a wealthy second-generation heir who practically radiated money. Unexpectedly, however, this rich heir hadn’t come to show off or casually pad their resume. Instead, they conducted a rigorous investigation, asking sharp, serious questions and repeatedly verifying the facts. They even brought up complex topics related to bioengineering and Oripathy, which left Lynn blinking in mild confusion at their sheer competence.

Aside from that, it seemed Officer Ch’en was running into some bureaucratic friction. The development of her specialized unit had hit a frustrating deadlock. Although Lynn had provided a massive sum of compensation money to help fill the financial gap, building an entire department from the ground up was a bottomless pit. If she wanted to perfect her unit’s operations, she desperately needed more funding, which meant handling a nightmare of reports and lobbying.

To make matters worse, it seemed Officer Ch’en had a political rival. Lynn found it incredibly strange that even the police force had political rivals, but it was causing her overall operations to become painfully rigid. She was so busy that she could only pass a message through a subordinate, promising that they would have a chance to grab a meal together eventually. For now, she remained firmly entrenched on the front lines, fighting crime in the neon-lit streets.

For such a dedicated, dutiful police officer, Lynn couldn’t think of a better gift than to quietly wire over another generous portion of his compensation money.

In Lynn’s eyes, LMD really wasn’t that easy to spend anyway. The luxury goods and various high-end appliances of this world didn’t suit his tastes in the slightest. So, the vast majority of his surplus funds were simply donated to Officer Ch’en, giving her the resources she needed to build that so-called department dedicated to clearing out high-level crime in Lungmen.

As for the reaction from Penguin Logistics, there wasn’t much to complain about. During his hospitalization, the company’s daily operations didn’t miss a beat. Penguin Logistics was surprisingly generous, providing full paid sick leave. On workdays, someone would always drop by his room to chat, hang out, and occasionally smuggle in some fresh takeout, fully demonstrating the company’s chaotic but genuinely warm corporate culture.

Even if Lynn personally felt a bit awkward having someone constantly squatting in his hospital room, he appreciated the sentiment.

On the day of his discharge, they threw a grand, raucous banquet. They dragged along the Blacksteel duo and Lappland, and the entire group spent the evening eating, drinking, and causing a scene.

What made Lynn even happier was that the following day was a scheduled rest day. Croissant had hauled herself out of bed early to set up her street stall, while Texas and Exusiai teamed up to go out and do whatever it was they usually did. Naturally, Lappland vanished to go stalk Texas. Sora, meanwhile, had a highly anticipated idol concert to perform.

In other words, for a very rare, precious moment, Lynn was the only person left in the entire Penguin Logistics dormitory. He sat in his chair, basking in the hard-won tranquility.

And how does one best enjoy a quiet afternoon alone? By writing a novel, of course.

“Hmm, this should be fine.”

Looking at the world-building notes in his hand, Lynn nodded with satisfaction.

He had originally wanted to write a setting with massive prestige and a terrifyingly grand scale, like Warhammer 40K. But after thinking it over carefully, he remembered the old saying: good things should be saved for later. If he threw out Warhammer 40K right out of the gate, he would peak too early and have nothing left to escalate to. That would be meaningless. So, while recovering in the hospital, Lynn decided to write something a little more peaceful as a transition.

He chose to adapt the setting of Warhammer Fantasy. Compared to the grim darkness of the 41st Millennium, the world of Warhammer Fantasy was practically a vacation.

Of course, that was only relative to 40K. In the world of Warhammer Fantasy, the lands were still drenched in blood, defined by endless strife, clashing faiths, diverse races, and brutal cultures. All living beings were at war at all times, without a single moment of true peace. Just by writing down the basic lore, one could feel the sheer madness that possessed that world, as well as the tragic, noble spirit burning within its leaders. Even the most vile villains possessed a kind of pure, obvious charm.

This fictional world was similar to Terra in its suffering, yet completely different in its execution. Lynn focused his narrative on the Human Empire in the Old World. After drafting a few short stories to establish the grim, muddy mood, he decided he would show the manuscript to Texas first.

Lynn didn’t know much about the literary market in Terra. Texas, however, struck him as the quintessential cold, beautiful, black-haired literary girl. He felt it was necessary to ask for a professional’s opinion. After all, he wasn’t a native of Terra; he had no idea what the locals actually liked to read. For all he knew, the people of Terra had a bizarre fetish for stories about being cuckolded. Who could say?

“Phew, I wrote 25,000 words today. I really worked hard…”

He stretched his arms above his head, his joints popping. He had never been this diligent back when he was just messing around in his previous world.

Looking at the finished document on his monitor, Lynn connected his computer to the printer. He sent the text over, preparing to bind the freshly printed pages into a neat manuscript.

While he sat in his chair, listening to the rhythmic, mechanical whir of the printer spitting out warm paper, his phone suddenly vibrated against the desk.

Lynn casually picked it up and tapped the screen. A pure black, highly encrypted app was flashing urgently at the top of his notifications. It displayed a pale green ID, followed by a single, chilling question.

Hello, Prophet. I am Talulah. Can you tell me more about the question of human nature?

“…Ah.”

Lynn’s face instantly stiffened, the color draining from his cheeks.

Why is it you again…?