Chapter 152: How Could Anyone Not Be Able to Beat an Originium Slug?!

Provence never could have anticipated that mere moments after getting separated from Skyfire, her friend would suffer such a bizarre, humiliating fate. These deranged thugs weren’t just holding her hostage—they were actually trying to brew tea inside Skyfire’s shoes!

The righteous Disaster Messenger stared in absolute disbelief. It was a sight so utterly repulsive it threatened to shatter her entire worldview.

“You absolute perverts!” Provence shrieked, her eyes wide with horror as her massive, fluffy tail puffed up and stood straight on end like an angry fire poker.

Channeling her revulsion into kinetic force, she launched herself forward. Her heavy hiking boot—tipped with sharp Lupo claws—slammed directly into the face of the thug who was enthusiastically sniffing Skyfire’s discarded stockings. Using his crumpled, caught-off-guard face as a springboard, Provence twisted her waist in mid-air. With a nimble, acrobatic sweep of her leg, she kicked the boiling pot of shoe-tea right off its makeshift stove.

“Nooo!”

A chorus of agonized, heartbroken wails echoed through the clearing. Oddly enough, the cries of deep regret came not only from the scalded thugs but also from somewhere behind Ceylon.

Ceylon turned around, her refined features twisting in utter confusion. She had been exhausting herself trying to clear the overgrown path ahead with her parasol, but the white-haired Liberi trailing behind her hadn’t been helping at all. Instead, he had pulled out his PRTS terminal and was watching grotesque, brain-rotting short videos with absolute relish. He was actually mourning the loss of the shoe-tea on screen!

“Andorn, I am trying to tell you the truth!” Ceylon snapped, gripping her parasol tight. “Siesta might be completely destroyed by a volcanic eruption! Do you believe me or not?!”

The disguised Doctor blinked, taking a few seconds to register the fake name he was currently using. “Oh, believe you? Of course I believe you!” he replied, his tone entirely too cheerful for the apocalyptic subject matter.

Ceylon took a deep breath, forcing down her rising temper to maintain the elegant composure expected of a proper young lady. “What we are doing is attempting to save this entire city! And what, pray tell, are you doing right now?”

Save the world? The Doctor mused internally. Theoretically, I save the world every single day just by exercising basic self-control.

“Then please, just go back,” Ceylon finally snapped, her patience completely exhausted. She would rather brave the wilderness alone than travel with this infuriating Liberi who never seemed to take anything seriously. “I appreciate your initial trust and help, but I am perfectly capable of finishing the rest of this journey by myself!”

The Doctor wasn’t paying attention to her aristocratic scolding. A different sound had already caught his finely tuned gamer senses. Rustle, rustle… The unmistakable, skittering noise of multiple segmented legs crawling over dry fallen leaves.

With a burst of agility that would have utterly baffled anyone who knew his usual lethargic self, the Doctor scrambled up a nearby tree he had already pre-selected for tactical retreat. “Stop talking!” he hissed from the branches. “The bugs are coming!”

Ceylon stared up at him, utterly incredulous. “Bugs? Why on Terra are you afraid of Originium Slugs?!”

It defied all logic. How could anyone be incapable of beating a basic, bottom-tier Originium Slug?

Meanwhile, on another small forest path, Skyfire trudged along beside Provence. The Feline caster was currently forced to wear a pair of oversized, clunky boots stripped from the unconscious kidnappers.

“Thank you, Provence…” she muttered, her cheeks burning with aristocratic humiliation. “I swear, next time I absolutely will not allow myself to be captured by such degenerate filth so embarrassingly!”

“Oh, don’t thank me for such a small thing! But you really do need to be more careful next time.” Provence patted her chest, still feeling a lingering shudder of fear at the memory of the shoe-tea.

“I simply didn’t expect anyone to be so fundamentally evil. The outside world is far too dangerous.” They didn’t even spare my stockings! Skyfire shuddered, nodding vigorously in agreement.

“How about you head back first?” Provence suggested, her Lupo ears twitching with concern. “I can go find the volcanic specimens Eyjafjalla needs by myself.”

She had been a Disaster Messenger for years; countless narrow escapes from the jaws of death had forged her into a battle-hardened Operator. Skyfire, despite her overwhelming Arts talent, was ultimately still a sheltered young lady who lacked real-world survival experience.

Skyfire shook her head firmly, her pride flaring. “No. Please believe in me, Provence. When I joined Rhodes Island, I already made up my mind. Even if the path ahead is dangerous, I refuse to stop…”

“Help! Is anyone there? Help me!”

A young girl’s frantic scream suddenly shattered the quiet forest, interrupting their heartfelt moment.

“Why are there so many of these disgusting bugs?!” A girl with elegant pink curls was frantically waving her little parasol, desperately trying to swat away the swarm of Originium Slugs skittering toward her ankles.

“Is anyone there? Save us~ Save us~”

Beside her, clinging to a thick tree trunk, was a Liberi wearing a standard Rhodes Island uniform. He was bundled up from head to toe, revealing nothing but a tuft of white hair and a pair of gray eyes that looked deceptively kind. Even though he was technically calling for rescue, his tone was entirely unhurried, dripping with a dry, sarcastic drawl. “Oh no. I’m so afraid of the Originium Slugs. Somebody help. Please.”

Skyfire blinked, thoroughly confused by the man’s absolute lack of urgency. But the kind-hearted Provence didn’t hesitate, immediately rushing into the fray. “Hold on! We’re here to save you!”

Skyfire sighed helplessly and followed suit, raising her Arts staff. A wave of scorching, high-temperature flames erupted from the tip, instantly incinerating the vanguard of the swarm and easily dispersing the remaining Originium Slugs.

“Thank you so much. I… I really didn’t expect there to be such a massive colony of Originium Slugs out here…” Ceylon retracted her parasol, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she expressed her gratitude.

Skyfire stepped forward, her Feline eyes narrowing. “Why are the two of you out here?”

Provence, however, was focused on more practical matters. She looked up into the branches. “Hey there, friend, it’s safe to come down now! We’re also field Operators for Rhodes Island. What’s your name? You aren’t hurt, are you?”

Up in the tree, the Doctor gauged the drop to the ground. Considering his current disguised identity, he decisively abandoned the idea of shouting something embarrassing like, ‘I can’t get down, can someone catch me?’ Instead, he calmly reached out and patted his own shadow.

He now possessed a traversal method that was more patient than Wis’adel’s explosives, far easier to explain away than raw Originium Arts, and significantly more subtle than Młynar’s golden slashes!

The shadow immediately responded to his silent command. It deformed, shifting into a solid, prehensile mass that tightly gripped his wrist, carefully lowering his fragile body down bit by bit. To the outside observers, however, it created a flawless optical illusion: it looked exactly as if this random Liberi possessed astonishing core and arm strength, gracefully sliding down the trunk with one hand effortlessly gripping the bark the entire way.

“Wait, are you… Plume?” Provence frowned, her fluffy ears drooping as she started to seriously doubt her own memory. “I could have sworn Plume didn’t look like this…”

Hearing this, Ceylon whipped her head around, her eyes widening. “What? Plume? Isn’t his name Andorn?!”

“I…” The Doctor stalled. But before his mastermind brain could spin a reasonable lie to cover the gaping plot hole, someone else spontaneously smoothed things over for him.

“Is he a trainee Operator using a senior colleague’s identity to sneak a vacation?” Skyfire asked, scanning the white-haired Liberi up and down with a critical eye. He looked vaguely familiar, as if she had passed him in the corridors of the landship once or twice before. He definitely wasn’t a fake Operator.

“Trainee Operators don’t officially receive these vacation travel benefits,” Skyfire explained with the confident air of someone who knew the corporate loopholes. “So, some of our formal Rhodes Island members who don’t have the time to take their accumulated leave will let the trainees take their place anonymously. It counts as an under-the-table reward for outstanding juniors. Just like that little Sarkaz girl, Ifrit. I remember she would often pester a few busy elite Operators to let her sneak out on their dime.”

Very good, you little fire dragon, the Doctor thought, a sinister smirk blooming in his mind. Your Uncle Doc has just acquired another excellent piece of blackmail material on you.

Despite his internal scheming, his outward acting didn’t slip in the slightest. He perfectly calibrated his expression to show three parts shock and three parts bashful shyness. “Ah… you caught me. That’s right. I’m actually a new hire this year. Senior Plume saw that I was under way too much work pressure from all my recent business trips, so she proactively offered me her vacation slot!”

…Honestly, taking the words at their literal, technical meaning, it wasn’t even a lie. He really had just joined the company this year!

“Well, it’s nice to meet you! I am Provence, and this is Skyfire,” the Lupo smiled warmly. “I really didn’t expect to run into any colleagues all the way out here.”

She then turned her gaze toward Ceylon, whose frazzled emotions had finally begun to calm down. “But that begs the question… what exactly are the two of you doing out here in the wilderness?”

[Rhodes’s Note:

Enjoying the operation so far, Doctor?

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