English
Indonesia
Chinese (Simp)
Japanese
Korean
Spanish
Portuguese
French
German
ArabicArknights: The Prophet of Penguin Logistics — Chapter 9
Chapter 9: Cocktail Parties and Frank Confessions
“And so! To celebrate welcoming our newest operator, Prophet! And to celebrate surviving that absolute mess of an emergency mission! Cheers!”
Croissant thrust a thumbs-up into the air, a massive, infectious grin plastered across her face. Beside her, Exusiai hoisted her glass high, the amber liquid sloshing over the rim. Texas simply sat there, her expression a mask of cool indifference.
And then there was Lynn, staring blankly at the scene unfolding before him, deeply questioning the trajectory of his life.
Something about this picture was fundamentally wrong. No matter how he tried to frame it, the current situation defied all logic.
He looked down at the towering platter of sizzling, grease-dripping barbecue skewers piled on the cheap plastic table. He looked around at the noisy, chaotic street stall, thick with the smell of roasting meat, cheap alcohol, and the roaring laughter of patrons playing boisterous drinking games. The four of them sat right in the middle of it all, seemingly blending into the Lungmen nightlife, yet Lynn felt a distinct, jarring disconnect.
Croissant was currently chugging beer straight from the bottle, her throat working in rapid gulps. Exusiai was dual-wielding skewers, tearing into the meat with single-minded devotion. Texas, meanwhile, was sighing over her latest failed attempt to quit smoking, her fingers restlessly tapping a fresh cigarette against the carton before pressing it between her lips.
Logically, they were just grabbing a bite. But as the newest addition to the team, Lynn felt entirely out of place eating and drinking with such reckless abandon right after a life-or-death firefight.
‘This really just feels like clocking out of a boring office job…’
Lynn kept the thought to himself, watching the neon lights flicker over the bustling street.
The moment they had cleared the ambush zone, the tension had simply vanished. Quitting time. While Penguin Logistics handled heavy, high-risk contracts, their actual schedule was surprisingly flexible the moment the bullets stopped flying. Croissant and Exusiai had exchanged a single look and immediately agreed that they needed food to calm their nerves—and to officially welcome Lynn to the crew.
Without a single word of warning, Texas had slammed her foot on the gas. She executed a massive, tire-screeching drift, weaving the transport through narrow alleys, aggressively overtaking civilian cars, and braking violently right in front of this specific street food stall.
Before Lynn could even process the whiplash, he had been dragged out of the vehicle and shoved into a plastic chair. A crate of beer and a mountain of skewers materialized on the table, and the girls immediately dug in.
It was exactly like grabbing dinner with colleagues after a long shift. The only real difference was that his coworkers were heavily armed, exceptionally dangerous girls.
Watching Croissant crush her empty can, burp softly, and pop the cap off another bottle with her thumb, Lynn felt a dull ache building behind his eyes.
“Hic… This one goes out to our new guy, Prophet!” Croissant raised the fresh bottle, her cheeks flushed. “Exusiai said your eyes are sharp as a tack. Spotted a dozen guys in the dark without breaking a sweat. If you hadn’t been there, I might’ve actually had to break a sweat swinging my shield around. Anyway, here’s to you. Drink or don’t, I’m downing mine!”
“Who needs sweets when the barbecue is this good!” Exusiai chimed in, her mouth entirely full.
“Just how desperate were you two for meat…” Lynn muttered.
Watching them gorge themselves, Lynn felt his own quiet demeanor clash violently with the atmosphere.
Texas, who had remained entirely silent, pulled out a silver lighter. She flicked it once. Twice. Only sparks caught the night air. Frowning slightly, she stood up, pushing her chair back, and walked away from the noise, seeking the quiet shadows of a nearby street corner.
Lynn glanced at Croissant and Exusiai. They were far too absorbed in their feast to notice the Lupo’s departure. He looked back toward the dark alley where Texas stood alone, her silhouette leaning against the damp brick wall.
A strange, quiet impulse tugged at his chest. His intuition, usually reserved for dodging bullets, was nudging him forward.
He excused himself from the table, crossed the cracked pavement, and stepped into the shadows beside Texas.
“…Why did you follow me?”
Texas didn’t look at him. She kept her gaze fixed on the scattered moonlight reflecting off the wet asphalt, the unlit cigarette resting between her fingers.
“Wouldn’t it be better to enjoy your own welcome banquet?” she added, her tone flat.
“I just got the feeling you wanted me over here.” Lynn leaned against the brickwork, mirroring her posture. “So, I came. You have something to say to me, don’t you?”
“That strange intuition of yours again. It really is terrifyingly accurate.”
Texas finally struck the lighter. The flame caught, illuminating her sharp features. She took a slow drag, exhaling a thin plume of gray smoke into the damp air. Her golden eyes shifted, narrowing slightly as they locked onto the dark metal of the firearm holstered at Lynn’s side.
“Don’t bother trying to give that back to us. Keep it,” she said quietly. “That gun wasn’t issued by the company. It belongs to Exusiai.”
“…Hers? This pistol?” Lynn frowned, resting his hand against the grip.
“Yes. Penguin Logistics requires Exusiai to carry a wide variety of firearms for different contracts, but that specific one is the only one that truly belongs to her.” Texas took another drag. “It is the absolute proof of maturity for every Sankta of Laterano. A Guardian Gun. A weapon bound entirely to its owner. That is what you are holding.”
“Then why would she—”
“Because she trusts you. Without a single reservation.”
Texas exhaled, the thick smoke momentarily obscuring her face. The cherry of her cigarette flared, the reddish glow in the haze staining her hair and the surrounding brickwork with a bloody tint.
“Don’t let Exusiai’s attitude fool you,” Texas continued, her voice dropping lower. “She acts friendly with everyone she meets, but the number of people she truly acknowledges can be counted on one hand. For her to hand over her Guardian Gun just to ensure your safety… this is the first time I have ever seen her do such a thing.”
She turned her head slightly, locking eyes with him. “You probably don’t know this, but she spent hours carving countless simplified Originium Arts formulas into the internal casing of that firearm.”
“What does that mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like.”
Texas watched the smoke curl into the night sky, her hair gradually changing from that dark, reflective red back to its natural, abyssal black as the ember dimmed. “She put an insane amount of effort into modifying it so someone like you could actually pull the trigger without blowing your own arm off. I saw her huddled over that gun during our downtime, constantly tinkering with the internals. I didn’t know what she was planning at the time. Seeing it in your hands now, I understand.”
She flicked some ash onto the pavement. “She trusts you. Completely. I don’t know what happened between you two before you joined, or what your actual relationship is. But if you ever dare to betray that trust… No. Forget it. I’m just running my mouth.”
Lynn looked down at the dark metal resting against his hip. The weapon suddenly felt incredibly heavy.
Exusiai always seemed so carefree, bouncing from one distraction to the next. But beneath that bright exterior was a careful, iron-willed girl. When she made a decision, she committed to it with terrifying absolute certainty. It was exactly like how she had decided to break through Texas’s icy exterior months ago, stubbornly forcing her way in until they were genuine partners.
Lynn understood the weight of the gun now. He had no intention of handing it back. If someone entrusted him with their most precious possession, the only acceptable response was to carry it with honor.
“To be honest, I still don’t fully understand why she trusts me this much,” Lynn said softly.
He looked at Texas’s stoic profile. His intuition flared again, telling him that this was the moment to lay his cards on the table.
“Because, Texas… I didn’t actually lose my memory. You already suspected that, didn’t you?”
Texas didn’t react, merely taking another slow drag of her cigarette.
“I am, at my core, a traveler,” Lynn confessed, his voice steady. “I come from a place you would find very difficult to comprehend, and there is a very high chance I will never be able to return. My knowledge of this world is fragmented at best. Aside from the fact that we somehow speak the same language, absolutely nothing here is familiar to me.”
He looked back toward the brightly lit food stall, watching Exusiai laugh at something Croissant said.
“Asking you and Exusiai for help back then was just an instinctive survival reaction. Why she decided to put this much faith in an outlander, I don’t know. But what I do know is this: no matter what happens, I will never betray her. I will do everything in my power to fulfill her wishes. It is the absolute least I can do to repay her kindness. I refuse to let someone else’s trust become an excuse for my own arrogance.”
Texas remained silent for a long time. The distant sounds of the Lungmen streets seemed to fade into the background.
“Far away from home, huh…” Texas murmured. She turned to look at him, her golden eyes unreadable. “Since you remember your hometown… what happened to your family?”
“They were gone a long time ago,” Lynn replied, his tone devoid of pity. “They passed away back there.”
“Is that so?” Texas looked up at the narrow strip of night sky visible between the towering skyscrapers. Her Lupo ears twitched slightly in the cool breeze. “Then we are quite similar.”
The heavy atmosphere broke. Texas dropped the remainder of her cigarette onto the damp pavement, crushing the ember beneath the heel of her boot. Behind her, her dark tail gave a slow, subtle wag.
She turned to Lynn, the faintest ghost of a smile touching the corners of her mouth, and extended her hand.
“Welcome to Penguin Logistics.”