Chapter 105: Mad Shrike (Part 6)

In that suffocatingly stiff atmosphere, the past Doctor actually took two deep breaths, forcibly composing himself. “Alright, Theresa. I’ll wait for your answer.” His voice was steady, perfectly regulated. “Then, shall we continue discussing the placement of the Babel children?”

Theresa instinctively reached out with her Arts, attempting to read his mind to confirm the true state of his emotions. Instead, she was immediately hit in the face by a dense, impenetrable wall of economic construction plans and logistical spreadsheets.

His emotional fluctuations had lasted for only a microscopic fraction of a second before flatlining back into a state of dead water, entirely devoid of ripples.

Watching this from the sidelines, your own stomach began to ache. Was I really like this before?

Hiding everything, tucking every vulnerability away behind a mask of absolute control—you were practically addicted to it!

As the atmosphere in the room gradually thawed into something more harmonious, the past Doctor smiled without a single hint of resentment. He looked exactly like the flawless, calculating strategist he was supposed to be, completely dropping any mention of his previous radical ideas.

Your stomach ache flared up again.

Wait. This didn’t feel like a phantom, psychological stomach ache. This was purely physical!

You hurriedly waved your hands, watching in horror as your past self subtly clutched his abdomen. His lips were turning a faint shade of purple as he turned to Kal’tsit, asking with forced nonchalance, “Kal’tsit, I recall… aren’t potato leaves poisonous?”

Kal’tsit took another calm sip from her glass. Unfortunately, the strong physical constitution of Terrans left her completely unaffected by whatever was in that cup. “The ones I used for juicing were harvested from a botanical garden managed by a Banshee. She guaranteed she had modified the crop with incantations, rendering them completely non-toxic.”

“Who was that Banshee?”

Kal’tsit paused, thinking for a moment. “She said her name was Andoshanli. Why? Did she lie to me?”

A rare flicker of nervousness crossed Kal’tsit’s stoic features, but the past Doctor quickly interrupted her. “…No, no. The juice isn’t poisoned.”

He tightened his grip on his stomach. “It must be the water I drank this morning. It wasn’t very clean. I’ve upset my stomach.”

Hahahahahahaha—

The ghostly version of you standing behind him clutched your own belly, laughing wildly at the sheer absurdity of the lie.

“Excuse me for a moment,” the past Doctor managed to say, his posture rigid. “There are still bandits causing trouble within Babel’s borders. Since we have some time, I’ll go clear out another Annihilation run.”

Clutching his stomach, the great tactician made a thoroughly pathetic exit.

Just before he crossed the threshold, Kal’tsit called out, “By the way, Doctor, do you have time to return to Rim Billiton? It seems the excavation project for the Rhodes Island components over there has run into some operational issues again.”

“No rush. I’ve got it.” The past Doctor hurried away, desperate to find a bathroom.

You stood there, lost in thought, having finally confirmed a critical detail about him.

It seemed… he had absolutely no memory of the plot.

In a massive, canon-defining event like meeting the little rabbit who had just lost her parents in Rim Billiton, if he actually remembered the storyline, there was no way he would have brushed it off with a casual ‘no rush’!

Hiss… So, in the terrifying, unforgiving land of Terra, this guy was doing a zero-guide, one-life blind speedrun? And he was actually succeeding? The past Doctor’s stock value was skyrocketing in your eyes.

Am I really that awesome?!

“Mm-hmm~”

A cheerful, melodic hum drifted into your ears, immediately followed by the familiar, heavy, bone-rattling impact of a club smashing into the back of your skull. Caught entirely off guard, your vision violently darkened once again.

Wait, brother, you’re really just showing me a cutscene!

Who on earth did you learn this ‘club-to-the-head’ teleportation method from?!

Inside the gloomy, oppressive halls of the ancient castle, the group continued their unhurried advance.

In reality, the four temporary health points granted by the Ode to Triumph relic manifested physically, blessing Rosmontis with accelerated wound recovery and a highly stabilized physical state. Along the bloody corridors, the Doctor didn’t even need to use his brain; wherever they walked, they slaughtered.

Yato stood guard by his side, her expression hidden behind her mask, though her posture betrayed a hint of unease. “…Doctor, do we seem to be lost?”

The young man’s finger unhurriedly traced the glowing golden interface of his PRTS program. “No rush. There is no such thing as being lost on the path to the backstage in this castle.”

“Actually, for us, encountering combat is a good thing. The violence covers up a lot of underlying problems. We just need to keep winning, and sooner or later, we’ll get exactly what we want. But when the fighting pauses for a moment…”

He trailed off, waving a hand dismissively. “Never mind. There should be a merchant ahead. Is there anything you want to buy?”

The Doctor pointed down the dim hallway. Hanging eerily upside down from the vaulted ceiling was a tall, grotesque, thousand-handed puppet. Blood-red tears flowed slowly from its wooden eyes, dripping onto the stone floor. “This is Canot.”

Steward subconsciously raised his Originium casting unit, his polite face twisting in confusion. “Huh? Mr. Canot from Kazimierz? How did he turn into… this?”

Could this horrific transformation be the consequence of what the Doctor once called being addicted to ‘cyber cricket fighting’?

However, the Doctor waved off the guess, his tone adopting a strange, detached amusement. “No, what I mean is… you can just treat him as Canot.”

“His actual name is too long for me to bother remembering, so you can just call him Castle Canot. If you hit him, he even drops gold coins.”

“There are… other Canots?” Steward found the concept deeply disturbing.

“Yes. There’s Sami Canot, Sarkaz Canot, and Seaborn Canot.”

Steward couldn’t fathom why the Doctor was so obsessed with this bizarre ‘Canot Naming Convention.’ Had the real Mr. Canot done something truly unforgivable to deserve this?

The Doctor didn’t bother explaining further. He walked straight up to the hanging monstrosity, leaned over, and spoke in a casual, conversational tone. “Hello. What are you selling today?”

The thousand-handed puppet barely opened its weeping eyes. It let out a listless, sharp, and sarcastic screech, spreading out five of its wooden palms. Resting in them were five ‘Vanguard Recruitment Vouchers.’

There wasn’t a single Vanguard operator in their current squad.

Rosmontis stared at the vouchers, her feline ears drooping in visible disappointment. She tugged gently at the Doctor’s sleeve, looking up at him as if she had been wronged. “My luck seems to be bad. Next time, let’s buy Sniper Vouchers. I’m really strong!”

The Doctor didn’t pull his arm away. Instead, he propped up his chin, staring at the puppet for a long, quiet moment. “Ah, it’s not your fault, little cat. Why don’t you close your eyes for a bit? I think I logged into the wrong account.”

Rosmontis didn’t understand the strange terminology, but she nodded obediently. “Doctor, it’s okay if we don’t buy those… are they very expensive?”

The Doctor didn’t answer. He gently covered her eyes with one hand, scooped up the white feline—who remained as quiet and trusting as a real kitten—and placed her carefully into Yato’s arms. He then shot Steward a sharp look, signaling the Cautus boy to block his ears.

Once the children were secured, the Doctor slowly stepped forward again. He leaned down, adopting the exact same casual posture as before—

And ruthlessly slammed the metal-reinforced heel of his tactical boot straight into the puppet’s face.

CRACK!

“Five Vanguard vouchers,” the Doctor hissed. “Guess how many little wooden men exactly like you I’ve dismantled in this castle?”

To avoid causing a panic among the operators standing behind him, he deliberately leaned in close, his voice dropping to a gentle, terrifying whisper. “Or do I have to plow through this entire castle from beginning to end, dig up your old home, and turn every single little animal inside into canned food before you believe it’s me who’s back?”

The puppet’s previously listless, mocking eyes instantly widened to comical proportions. Its wooden joints began to tremble violently, clattering together as if it were performing a frantic tap dance.

Even though that brutal kick had nearly snapped its head off its already unstable neck, the entity didn’t dare show a single hint of anger. It was the first time Yato had ever seen an expression that could only be described as ‘fawning’ plastered across a wooden puppet’s face. Its thousand hands began to shift positions in a blur of panic, causing the countless threads binding it to the ceiling to rustle and snap.

When Rosmontis finally opened her eyes again, the previously lifeless and hideous thousand-handed puppet was now wearing an exaggerated, painfully wide smile. It shook its puppet strings incessantly, putting on a grand performance as it spoke in perfectly fluent Columbian English.

“Oh! Welcome, my old friend! Would you like to see if there’s anything you’d like to buy?”

“Or perhaps come and deposit some money; you’ll need it sooner or later!”

A thousand hands slowly blossomed outward like a grotesque flower. The closest few palms were practically shoved right in front of Rosmontis’s face. The elite operator subconsciously looked down at the new inventory:

3 gold for Dreamy Fragrance, 5 gold for Thundering Hand, 7 gold for Djinn’s Cup, and 4 gold for a Sniper Recruitment Voucher.

Rosmontis blinked, her tail twitching. “…Meow?”

[Rhodes’s Note: The Doctor’s “Canot Naming Convention” is a meta-joke referring to the recurring merchant NPC in Arknights’ Integrated Strategies (Roguelike) modes. Canot appears in IS2 (Crimson Solitaire – Castle), IS3 (Caerula Arbor – Seaborn), IS4 (Expeditioner’s Jǫkull – Sami), and IS5 (Sarkaz). The Doctor simply calls every merchant he meets “Canot” based on the region.]

[Rhodes’s Note:

Enjoying the operation so far, Doctor?

(This daily grind literally pays the landship’s rent! 🙇‍♂️):

Massive thanks for reading and supporting the operation!]