Chapter 151: In Accordance with the Rites of Gacha!

Unsure of what possessed her—perhaps sheer desperation—Ceylon ultimately brought along this Liberi who seemed entirely detached from reality.

After all, if she traveled with him, he was the crazy one. If she ventured up this treacherous path with anyone else, Ceylon herself would be the one labeled insane.

“We are heading up the mountain for a field investigation. Stay behind me and behave. Only step forward once I have confirmed the path is safe, do you understand?” Ceylon pulled off a lace glove with her teeth, lifting the heavy hem of her skirt. She deeply regretted not changing into a simple tracksuit before leaving the manor.

Who could have predicted that in the sprawling, vibrant city of Siesta, not a single soul was actively researching the volcano? It left her no choice but to personally scale the mountain to verify her hypothesis.

Fortunately, three minutes later, she no longer had to worry about her skirt slowing her down.

“Ceylon, I am a total noob. Carry me. Save me.”

This utterly useless Liberi, who lacked not only basic physical stamina but also any semblance of balance, had somehow managed to tangle himself in a tree. He hung upside down from a stray strap in a position that defied the laws of physics, his legs kicking feebly in the humid air.

Ceylon stared at the path she had just painstakingly carved through the thorny underbrush, her fists tightening until her knuckles turned white. With a heavy sigh, she turned back to rescue this failure of an adult.

“How on earth have you survived until now?” she asked, effortlessly lifting the white-haired youth by his collar with one hand while clutching her skirt with the other.

The youth adopted a look of deep, melancholic reflection. “…A hometown I can never return to, followed by forming deep bonds with a beautiful pink-haired woman and a hot-tempered red-themed girl. After a certain tragic incident, I betrayed everyone to pursue a new ideal. Now, I wander the earth, searching for the true meaning of my path.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Actually, my true name is Andorn.”

Ceylon had no idea who Andorn was, nor why his speech was so agonizingly convoluted. She could only extract two relevant data points from that entire monologue: a red-themed girl and a beautiful pink-haired woman.

‘So he is a pretty boy,’she concluded.’Did he see my matching pink hair and decide to come looking for a sugar mommy? No wonder.’

The refined upbringing of a mayor’s daughter kept her reaction limited to a slight frown. She held no particular prejudice against such a profession. However, if this pretty boy thought he could secure her as his next wealthy patron just because he had been abandoned, he had severely miscalculated.

“Um… Mr. Andorn, or is it Mr. Plume? I apologize, but this little adventure will not yield any profit for you. And as you can clearly see, the road ahead will only grow more treacherous. If you wish to back out, I suggest you leave as soon as possible.”

The Liberi, who had spent the last hour acting as though he could not comprehend basic human speech, suddenly darkened his expression. It was as if he had pierced straight through her polite facade and read her mind.

“You are thinking about something deeply offensive.”

The white-haired youth spoke with absolute certainty. For a fraction of a second, Ceylon felt a genuine chill—an illusion of being completely exposed beneath a gaze that was sharp and piercing to the bone.

But the very next moment, the illusion shattered into dust.

“My fragile heart has been wounded! I burned my precious annual leave to accompany you on a life-threatening mountain climb to save Siesta, only to be met with such cruel suspicion! Morality is truly in decline. The hearts of the people are not what they used to be!”

…So that uniform of his really was not stolen? What kind of blind, desperate company would actually pay a salary to someone like this? Were they running a charity?

Wait, the logo on his jacket read ‘Rhodes Island’. That pharmaceutical company really did operate like a charity.

Ceylon suddenly gained an intuitive understanding of the Yan empire’s ancient wisdom: work-relief programs.

Meanwhile, the Doctor’s mouth twitched. He finally abandoned his last remaining chance to salvage his image. The sheer desire to watch the drama unfold vastly outweighed any concern for his personal reputation. Even if he was treated as a useless pretty boy or a complete idiot today, he was absolutely going to witness the world-shaking yuri blooming between Ceylon and Schwarz!

Suddenly, the white-haired Liberi turned his head, staring into the dense, shadowed foliage. “Originium Slugs are gathering nearby. Should we take a detour?”

Ceylon blinked in surprise, but remembering his supposed combat prowess—or lack thereof—she felt a wave of relief. “No, our time is too urgent. They are just slugs; there is no need to waste time on a detour. I will handle them.”

“Alright,” the Doctor replied, immediately looking up to scout which tree he could scramble up the moment the Originium Slugs swarmed them.

‘Is fate truly unavoidable?’he mused internally.’Even if we have stepped onto completely different paths, the universe always seems to force the exact same scenarios in seemingly unrelated places. It requires no verbal intimidation, no bloody torture; simply understanding the meta makes the lucky escapee doubt if they have entered a new cycle.’

Such serious, high-class literary introspection… yet it had absolutely nothing to do with the main plot!

“Hehe, these feet, these legs… I will retire after this job. I could play with these legs for half a year!”

According to the scientific method of controlled variables, one could easily conclude that the truly rare anomaly was not the two villains from Victoria who still retained their low-brow tastes. No, the true anomaly was Miss Skyfire, who possessed a passive aura capable of consistently summoning low-level, degenerate villains even as far away as Siesta!

Skyfire was currently bound by her wrists to the rough trunk of a withered tree. She kicked her fair, slender legs with unbelievable force, her boots thrashing against the air. A dirty rag had been stuffed into her mouth, reducing her furious curses to muffled, desperate sounds of protest.

A gang of petty thieves, who had originally planned to pick pockets at the Obsidian Festival, had stumbled upon her. Struck dumb by Skyfire’s overwhelming beauty, their lustful greed had instantly escalated a simple theft into a full-blown kidnapping. They had skillfully ambushed the caster—who had just separated from Provence to collect volcanic specimens—using knockout drops. They bagged her and tied her up in one smooth, practiced motion.

At this moment, the boldest of the thugs stared lecherously at Skyfire’s struggling form. Finally gathering his courage, he rushed forward with a sinister, drooling laugh. Under Skyfire’s wide, terrified gaze, he roughly grabbed her ankle and yanked off her—

“Hiss—sour and fragrant! What an exquisite flavor!”

Seeing their leader indulge, the other thugs could no longer control their base desires. They swarmed forward, completely ignoring the beautiful girl herself to scramble madly for Skyfire’s boots and socks.

Skyfire herself, left entirely neglected and tied to the tree: “…”

Oh, fine.

Whatever makes you happy.

[Background change. Thorns’ character art appears. A light and cheerful tune plays.]

“Right, right, right, whatever makes you happy. Here I am, hung from the ship’s deck by Kal’tsit, watching you, brother, chilling in Siesta. Watching bands and eating barbecue. It is not hard or tiring at all!”

“…Stop talking nonsense. Summarize what you want to say in one sentence, or I am hanging up.” Thorns stood on the sunlit beach, his expression flat. He completely failed to realize that his own gacha banner story consisted of a mere two stages added after the Heart of Surging Flame rerun—and that he had just lost a massive chunk of his ‘catching thieves’ screentime. He frowned slightly, entirely failing to understand why his good brother possessed an endless supply of verbal garbage every single day.

“The news is a bit unreliable but there might be trouble at the music festival so be careful and if you meet members of the band D.D.D. remember to get an autograph for me!”

Beep—

Thorns expressionlessly cut the call. He felt deeply in his soul that his brother was nothing more than a noisy, oversized seagull.

What exactly was the charm of this D.D.D. that made him so obsessed?

Shifting the weight of his oddly shaped, toxic sword, Thorns cast a casual glance toward the sparkling blue sea. The warm sea breeze carried the cheerful, rhythmic sound of an electronic keyboard.

Re-Mi-So~ Re-Mi-So~

So-La~ Mi-Do-Re~~

It was as if the sea itself were truly singing.

[Rhodes’s Note:

Enjoying the operation so far, Doctor?

(This daily grind literally pays the landship’s rent!