Arknights: The Prophet of Penguin Logistics — Chapter 72

Chapter 72: Let Our Cultures Intersect

“And so, my very first song of the day—and the official debut track for our upcoming concert at the Louvre—starts right here!”

With a sharp snap of her fingers, Sora’s expression blossomed into pure, radiant sunshine.

Truth be told, the girl possessed a terrifyingly rare vocal gift and an innate flair for the stage. It was reminiscent of the legendary pop icons from Lynn’s past life; the moment she stepped into the spotlight, she radiated an infinite, magnetic charm. Even when belting out the kind of bubblegum pop tracks that would normally wear out their welcome after a single chorus, her energetic choreography and infectious enthusiasm made it impossible not to get swept up in the hype.

Naturally, there were limits. The cramped interior of a moving RV was hardly a stadium venue, lacking backing tracks, harmonies, or professional acoustics. Yet, relying purely on her raw vocal power and impeccable sense of rhythm, she managed to weave an obvious magic in the air.

Even the resident Blacksteel crosstalk duo—who had been bickering in the adjacent cabin just moments prior—wandered over to see what the commotion was about. The rest of the crew naturally gravitated toward the lounge, forming a makeshift audience. They listened to Sora’s a cappella performance, tapping their boots against the floorboards to the beat, occasionally chiming in with off-key harmonies while wearing expressions of genuine appreciation.

Fueled by the crowd’s energy, Sora’s movements grew bolder. She tapped into her Originium Arts, conjuring a dazzling array of glowing, ethereal patterns that pulsed in time with her voice, casting a neon glow across the RV’s dim interior. Strutting down the narrow corridor as if it were a million-dollar catwalk, she delivered a flawless high note and shot a playful wink directly at Texas. The stoic Lupo merely let out a soft sigh, a helpless but fond smile tugging at her lips.

One song wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy the idol’s boundless stamina. Sora launched into a second track, then a third, treating the physically demanding routine as casual entertainment.

Amidst the rising cheers of her makeshift fan club, her choreography grew wilder. The subtle application of her Arts created a natural, harmonious reverberation, turning the cramped vehicle into a private acoustic chamber. Even the RV’s onboard AI decided to join the fun, synthesizing a backing melody through the cabin speakers. Seizing the opportunity, Sora grabbed a thoroughly helpless Texas by the hand, dragging her into the center of the room for a sickeningly sweet romantic duet. Watching from the corner, Lappland’s eyes narrowed, her jaw tight as she ground her teeth together at the sight.

Still, a lively distraction was a rare luxury on such a grueling cross-country haul. The atmosphere was too infectious to ignore. Unable to stand being left out, Lappland threw herself into the fray, hijacking the next track to belt out a gritty, heavy-metal anthem alongside a surprisingly adaptable Sora.

With both Lupos now participating, the floodgates opened. Backed by the AI’s synthesized beats, the Blacksteel duo grabbed the metaphorical mic, dropping a high-speed, explosive rap battle that left everyone cheering. Exusiai followed up, delivering a high-octane rock track with her signature energetic, rapid-fire vocal style. Croissant, shattering every preconceived notion the crew had about her, stepped up and delivered a soulful, incredibly soft ballad reminiscent of traditional enka, her rich voice echoing with unexpected emotional depth.

After the chaotic rotation of amateur singers, Sora reclaimed her rightful place as the star. She guided the group through a few more tracks before winding down with a gentle, melodious lullaby. With that final, lingering note, the impromptu mini-concert drew to a close.

“…Thank you all so much for your support! Thank you!”

“Woo! Encore!”

The crew erupted into applause, paying their respects to the beautiful idol standing before them. Sora was panting softly, a sheen of sweat on her brow. Two straight hours of singing, high-energy choreography, and crowd interaction was a grueling workout, enough to drain the stamina of even the most athletic operators.

Lynn fully expected her to collapse into a chair and chug a bottle of water. Instead, Sora twirled her makeshift microphone around her fingertip and leveled it directly at him, interrupting his attempt to quietly open a novel.

“Lynn… actually, no, Prophet junior. You want to sing too, don’t you?”

Her delicate, youthful face carried a rare, deadly serious expression as she thrust the microphone toward the bewildered young man.

“I know your secret, you know.”

Standing there in her idol dress, wielding the mic like a drawn sword, the usually easygoing girl was fiercely uncompromising when it came to her domain of expertise.

“Prophet junior, you hum these little melodies from time to time. I’ve always kept note of them.” She took a step closer, her eyes gleaming. “I even ran them through the company’s music database for a match. You claimed they were old classics, but they weren’t in there. They were all brand new.”

“Prophet junior—no, Lynn—since you have that kind of hidden talent, why not sing one for us?”

“Look, I told you before, I really don’t know how to—”

Sora didn’t blink.

“Fine, fine, I’ll sing.” Defeated by her rare, stubborn glare, Lynn raised his hands in surrender and cleared his throat.

Sora was the type of girl who seemed endlessly approachable—cheerful, lively, and incredibly easy to talk to. But beneath that bubbly exterior lay a core of pure iron. Once she locked onto a goal, absolutely nothing could deter her. It was the exact same stubborn drive that led her to join a gritty courier outfit like Penguin Logistics as an active idol. Once her mind was made up, excuses were entirely useless.

It wasn’t that Lynn was trying to guard some massive secret; he was just genuinely embarrassed. Belting out off-key tracks at a karaoke bar with a few drunk buddies back on Earth was one thing, but performing raw in front of a room full of hyper-competent, beautiful women? That was a bridge too far. Even with the warm, infectious atmosphere Sora had cultivated, stepping up to the plate felt incredibly awkward.

If there was one vital element that anchored a person’s sense of belonging, it was undoubtedly their culture. Initially, Lynn had been highly reluctant to bleed Earth’s pop culture into Terra. He always feared that hearing those familiar melodies echoing in this alien world would create a dangerous illusion—a fleeting, heartbreaking mirage that he had never left home at all.

But upon closer introspection, that was just pretentious nonsense.

To put it bluntly, he was just being lazy.

And a coward.

Now that Sora had directly called him out on the carpet, refusing to show off the top-tier cultural heritage of Earth would be a crime. If he backed down now, wouldn’t all his quiet, internal disdain for Terra’s lacking entertainment industry just be empty talk?

Lynn possessed a healthy amount of self-awareness regarding his own vocal range. He couldn’t hold a candle to Sora’s technique. However, even with mediocre singing skills, there were certain legendary tracks from his home world engineered to bypass technical skill and strike directly at the soul.

It might have been a terrible idea if someone was actually driving, but with the AI currently piloting the heavy transport, who cared about causing a little chaos?

‘Forget it, I’ll just say it’s something I’ve been working on recently…’

In truth, he needed to be careful. If he picked a song in his native tongue, the wave of nostalgia might actually crush him. He needed something universally infectious. Something raw. Since they lacked actual instruments and had to rely entirely on pure, percussive rhythm, there was only one logical choice. Coincidentally, judging by Exusiai and Lappland’s earlier performances, this crowd had a distinct taste for heavy, driving beats.

Glancing out the reinforced windows at the vast, desolate Terran wilderness blurring past, and then back to the expectant faces of the girls surrounding him, Lynn finally smiled.

No one could resist this anthem.

Absolutely no one.

“Looks like I have no choice but to show off a little,” Lynn declared, rolling his shoulders. “Alright. I’ll sing a little something called ‘We Will Rock You’ for everyone!”

He immediately rolled up his sleeves, marched over to the nearest reinforced table, and raised his hands, preparing to violently slap the metal surface.

The girls exchanged blank, utterly bewildered glances.

If he was just going to sing, why did it look like he was about to assault the furniture?