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ArabicArknights: The Scarlet Devil of Terra — Chapter 41
Chapter 41: The Sister in the Dream
“Report the situation inside!”
The thick, crimson mist hung heavy across the battlefield, swallowing the light and suffocating the air. After both L.G.D. tactical teams breached the perimeter, Ch’en Hui-chieh kept her hand hovering over her holstered blade. She cast a brief, assessing glance toward Flandre Scarlet. Seeing the small vampire standing perfectly still, making no suspicious or hostile movements, Ch’en lifted her radio to her lips.
“Report. Visibility inside the anomaly is practically zero. We are completely blind in here!” The breathless voice of the first squad leader crackled through the static. They were the vanguard, having rushed in without specialized optical gear.
“Confirmed! There is absolutely nothing visible within arm’s reach!” another officer chimed in.
“The Captain and I are standing face-to-face, and I can’t even see his visor!”
Frantic updates flooded the comms channel in rapid succession. Ch’en listened in silence, her expression unreadable, waiting for the heavily equipped second team to weigh in.
A few seconds later, a different voice broke through the static, sounding far more composed. “Infrared remote sensing is fully operational. We have a clear view of the interior layout and personnel positioning. Brother Wang, Old Li, I highly advise you two stop inching forward, or you’re going to end up kissing… Hiss. Apologies, Madam Ch’en, I didn’t see anything!”
The comms channel instantly flatlined into a mortifying, dead silence.
“Pfft!”
Standing nearby with her bat wings slightly perked, Flandre had been eavesdropping on the radio chatter. She completely failed to stifle her amusement, bursting into a bright, ringing fit of giggles.
The surrounding L.G.D. operators, including Ch’en Hui-chieh, managed to maintain their professional composure and did not laugh aloud. However, not a single one of them could entirely hide the sudden, violent twitching at the corners of their mouths.
Deep inside the suffocating red mist, Brother Wang and Old Li froze in place. At that exact moment, both hardened veterans genuinely felt that remaining lost in this crimson fog for the rest of their natural lives might be a preferable alternative to returning to headquarters. The sheer, unadulterated shame of walking out of that building would likely force them to pack their bags, abandon their pensions, and flee to the barren wastelands of Sargon overnight. Lungmen was simply no longer a city that could contain their shattered dignity.
The previously suffocating atmosphere that had gripped the Guard Department following the violent attack suddenly evaporated, replaced by a light, stifled amusement.
Once Flandre casually waved her hand and retracted the blood-red mist back into her small frame, she skipped down the stairs alongside a highly amused Ch’en Hui-chieh.
“Sausage Dragon, what exactly is so funny?”
The moment they reached the ground floor, they were intercepted by Beatrix Swire. The feline Senior Superintendent looked absolutely murderous. Following Ch’en’s earlier debriefing, Swire had been unceremoniously shoved into the L.G.D. psychological counseling ward for a mandatory, highly intrusive mental evaluation. Having just been released with a forced one-week administrative leave slapped on her record, she was already grinding her teeth at the mere thought of her rival.
So, when Swire turned the corner and saw Ch’en actually smiling, it was the spark that ignited the powder keg.
“Uh, I just remembered something happy.” Ch’en cleared her throat and rubbed the bridge of her nose, fighting a losing battle to suppress the lingering amusement in her eyes.
“You lying bastard! You literally just lectured me yesterday about how the Guard Department is a serious institution and that you never laugh on duty!” Swire snarled, jabbing a manicured finger directly at Ch’en’s face.
“It is the truth. My neighbor’s Cloudbeast gave birth to a litter of cubs this morning…”
“That has absolutely nothing to do with you!”
“They promised to give me the golden one.”
“Are you mocking me right now?” Swire bared her sharp tiger fangs, her tail lashing furiously behind her. She looked entirely prepared to tackle the dragon to the floor if Ch’en’s next words were even slightly out of line.
“Mocking you? I am simply sharing good news. Anyway, I read the report regarding your mandatory evaluation. Take Flandre back to your place and enjoy your extra week of playtime.” Ch’en smoothly deflected the aggression, lifting Flandre by the armpits and holding the small vampire out like a peace offering toward the furious feline.
Seeing Flandre waving happily at her, Swire’s maternal instincts instantly overrode her desire to strangle her coworker. She clicked her tongue, abandoning the argument, and gently took Flandre into her arms.
“Did this stupid Sausage Dragon bully you?” Swire asked softly, adjusting Flandre’s crooked hat.
Flandre shook her head innocently. Satisfied, Swire took the girl’s hand, and the two walked out the glass doors into the bustling Lungmen streets.
“Whew. That was entirely too close,” Ch’en muttered to herself, wiping a thin layer of cold sweat from her brow.
She turned on her heel and headed back toward her office. The paperwork generated by today’s chaotic operation was going to be monumental. Considering the other tactical squad had yet to return from their sweep, Ch’en knew she would be chained to her desk until the sun rose over the city skyline.
Later that evening, after Swire and Flandre had comfortably settled back into the penthouse apartment, Flandre sat on the plush sofa, swinging her legs.
“Sister Swire, you went out to play with Flandre for a whole week, and now you have to take another week off. Do you still get money for doing nothing?”
“Of course I do!” Swire puffed out her chest, her tail swaying with aristocratic pride. “First of all, you need to understand that we weren’t just ‘playing’ out there. We were executing a highly classified undercover operation. That is official L.G.D. business, which naturally guarantees my full salary and hazard pay.
“As for this upcoming week, it is officially classified as ‘Special Psychological Illness Leave.’ It falls under the medical umbrella but doesn’t drain my accrued sick days. It is a mandatory recuperation period granted to elite Operators who have endured high-stress combat scenarios. It can range from a week to six months, and the department pays me in full for every single second of it. So, while it might look like I’ve been slacking off for half a month, on paper, I have a flawless attendance record!”
Swire looked immensely pleased with her own bureaucratic maneuvering.
Yawning delicately, the feline stretched her arms above her head. The adrenaline of the day had finally crashed, leaving her bone-tired. She announced that she needed a long, uninterrupted sleep and retreated to her master bedroom.
Flandre watched the door click shut. She then turned her crimson eyes toward the massive pile of toys scattered across the living room. The day’s violence hadn’t even begun to drain her boundless energy. She needed a game. Something engaging.
A heartbeat later, the space distorted. Flandre smoothly split into four identical copies of herself.
Four pairs of glowing red eyes scanned the room in unison, eventually locking onto the only piece of furniture designed for exactly four players—the automated mahjong table.
“Mahjong, mahjong! Flandre wants to play the Sichuan Blood River rules!” the first Flandre cheered, scrambling into a chair.
“No Blood River! Blood River is boring! We are playing Riichi Mahjong, and Flandre is going to bankrupt all of you!” the second Flandre declared, slamming her hands on the felt surface.
“Flandre is a Tenhou master. Are you sure you want to challenge Flandre at Riichi?” the third Flandre asked, crossing her arms with a smug, mocking grin.
“Sigh… Flandre has never actually thought mahjong was fun,” the fourth Flandre complained, though she obediently took the final seat anyway.
The four vampires immediately descended into chaotic, high-pitched bickering as the tiles began to shuffle with a loud, mechanical clatter. The grand Scarlet Mahjong War had begun.
By the time Swire finally woke up, the morning sun was already streaming through her blinds. She groggily opened her bedroom door, only to be hit by a shrill, victorious scream.
“Tsumo! Under the Sea! Eight thousand, four thousand! Apologies to the rest of you, but right now, Flandre is the Great Rabbit Demon King!”
“Dammit!” three identical voices cursed in perfect unison.
Swire blinked the sleep from her eyes and shuffled into the living room. Her jaw dropped. The four Flandres were sitting around the table, completely covered from head to toe in small, white paper penalty slips. They looked less like vampires and more like a pack of ragged Nachzehrers wandering the Kazdel wastelands.
“Exactly how long have you girls been playing?” Swire asked, rubbing her temples as a headache threatened to form.
“Flandre forgot.”
“Flandre doesn’t know.”
“Not that long.”
“We started the second Sister went to sleep!”
“Shut up!” the first three Flandres yelled at the fourth.
“So… you have been gambling for the entire night?” Swire asked, her voice flat with disbelief.
“Flandre doesn’t know anything! Flandre is going to sleep right now!”
Realizing the jig was up, the four clones instantly merged back into one. Moving with terrifying, blinding speed, Flandre blurred past Swire, darted into her bedroom, and slammed the door shut. The heavy click of the lock echoed through the apartment.
“Flandre is asleep! You cannot wake Flandre up!” a muffled, defensive voice shouted from behind the wood.
Swire stood in the hallway, caught somewhere between deep annoyance and helpless amusement. She shook her head, walking over to the abandoned mahjong table. The expensive hardwood floor was littered with the paper slips Flandre had shed during her panicked escape.
Kneeling down to clean up the mess, Swire couldn’t bring herself to be truly angry. She had pulled her fair share of all-nighters playing games in her youth. A vampire playing mahjong until dawn hardly registered as a crisis.
After tidying the living room, she grabbed a quick breakfast from the designer fridge, ate in silence, and went down to the private gym for her morning run. When she finally returned, the penthouse was dead quiet.
She padded softly down the hall and gently eased Flandre’s door open. The small vampire was sprawled across the massive bed, buried under the blankets, breathing in a slow, rhythmic cadence. She was genuinely fast asleep.
Swire smiled softly and pulled the door shut. “Have a good sleep, little Flandre.”
Deep within the void of her subconscious, Flandre floated in a hazy, formless dreamscape. Suddenly, a familiar, desperate voice pierced through the fog.
“Flandre? Can you hear me? Flandre!”
Flandre blinked, the world around her rapidly solidifying. She found herself standing in the grand entrance hall of the Scarlet Devil Mansion. The scent of old books and black tea filled the air. Standing just a few paces away were Remilia, Patchouli Knowledge, Sakuya Izayoi, the Hakurei Shrine Maiden, and several other figures she didn’t quite recognize.
“Sister?” Flandre called out, tilting her head.
“Flandre! I hear Flandre’s voice! Sister, where are you? Why can’t I see you?!” Remilia’s voice cracked, her crimson eyes darting frantically around the empty air of the hall. She looked exhausted, her usual aristocratic poise entirely shattered by raw panic.
“Flandre is right here! Flandre has been standing right in front of you this whole time!” Flandre stepped forward, reaching out to grab her older sister’s hand.
Her small fingers passed harmlessly through Remilia’s skin, grasping nothing but empty air. Flandre stared at her translucent hand in confusion.
“Do not panic, Remi. Since we have established this initial auditory contact, we can calculate the coordinates to stabilize the dimensional channel. We will bring Flandre home.” Patchouli’s calm, measured voice echoed through the hall. The librarian’s words acted like a soothing balm, visibly easing the frantic tension in Remilia’s shoulders.
“Let us inquire about her current situation first. The child sounds remarkably energetic. This is an excellent opportunity for us to study the resonance before we attempt to tear this space open.”
Flandre turned toward the new voice. It belonged to a strange woman holding a parasol indoors, dressed entirely in pink pajamas. A name bubbled up from the depths of Flandre’s memory: Yukari Yakumo.
“Flandre, where are you right now? Is it dangerous? Are you frightened?” Remilia asked, her voice trembling slightly as she stared blindly into the space where Flandre stood.
“Flandre isn’t scared at all! Flandre has made many, many new friends…”
Flandre happily began to recount her adventures in Terra, describing the strange people with animal ears, the loud explosions, and the delicious food she had been given.
Remilia listened in stunned silence. She had spent weeks agonizing over her sister’s disappearance, fearing the worst. To discover that Flandre had not only survived being thrown into another universe but had actually stabilized her mental state and made friends was almost too much to process.
However, before Flandre could explain the intricacies of Lungmen’s political landscape, the edges of the mansion began to blur and dissolve. The pull of the waking world was dragging her back.
A second later, Flandre opened her eyes, staring up at the familiar ceiling of Swire’s guest room.
Simultaneously, back in the Scarlet Devil Mansion, Flandre’s cheerful voice was abruptly cut off.
Remilia let out a choked gasp, her wings flaring as she prepared to tear the room apart in a blind panic. Fortunately, Reimu Hakurei stepped forward, firmly planting a hand on the vampire lord’s shoulder and holding her in place.
“Calm down and think for a second,” Reimu said, her tone blunt but grounding. “Based on what Flandre just told us, she is doing perfectly fine over there. She isn’t in any immediate danger, and whatever world she landed in clearly doesn’t have anything capable of hurting her. What we need to do right now is analyze how we made this connection so we can actually see her next time.”
Remilia let out a long, shuddering sigh, her shoulders slumping. She knew the shrine maiden was right. Logic dictated patience. But Flandre had been missing for so long, and to finally hear her voice only to have the connection sever again—it tore at her heart.
“You really shouldn’t worry so much, little bat,” Yukari Yakumo purred, a dangerous, calculating smile spreading across her face. “Once word spreads that Flandre Scarlet is residing in another dimension, even if you decided to stop looking for her, the other yokai of Gensokyo would gladly tear reality apart to find her.”
Remilia frowned, looking at the gap yokai in confusion.
“Think about what the child just said,” Yukari continued, her eyes gleaming with predatory interest. “She described a world where beings with animal traits and extraordinary powers live openly in massive cities, coexisting with ordinary humans. A world entirely removed from the restrictive common sense of our Earth.”
Remilia’s breath hitched. She remembered Flandre casually mentioning the city of Lungmen, and how she had been officially hired as an ‘expert’ by the local governing authorities.
Such a concept was utterly impossible on Earth. If a normal human saw a yokai, they would scream in terror or try to kill it. The idea of living in harmony, walking down the street together in broad daylight, was a fantasy.
“Do you have any idea how intoxicating that concept is?” Yukari whispered, snapping her fan shut. “Once we lock onto the coordinates of that world, every powerful yokai in Gensokyo who feels suffocated by our shrinking borders will be throwing themselves at the gate, desperate for a way in.”
[Rhodes’s Note: “Under the Sea” (Haidi Laoyue) is a winning mahjong hand achieved by drawing the very last tile from the wall. “Nachzehrer” refers to a Sarkaz sub-race in Arknights known for consuming corpses, often depicted wearing ragged, bandage-like clothing.]