Chapter 59: Operation Blitzkrieg on the Nearl Residence!

Gravel stood frozen in the hallway, entirely at a loss.

She could only watch helplessly as the Doctor effortlessly picked the heavy brass lock and slipped into the Nearl family residence.

He moved with the casual, practiced grace of a secret lover sneaking into the estate, handling the opulent corridors until he reached the kitchen.

Without a second thought, he popped open the cold-chain refrigerator and pulled out the premium Yith Milk—the exact brand Młynar Nearl drank to fend off his chronic insomnia.

The Doctor took a long sip, then held the carton out.

“Want a taste?”

Gravel cautiously took a half-step back, her boots silent against the polished hardwood.

As a covert representative of the Kazimierz General Chamber of Commerce, she had a delicate status to maintain.

There was absolutely no reason to risk an international incident with the prestigious Nearl family over a half-empty carton of milk.

Even if it was milk the Doctor had just pressed his lips against.

She didn’t care about the indirect kiss at all.

Not one bit.

Her heart definitely wasn’t racing beneath her tactical gear.

Having thoroughly established his dominance over the kitchen, the Doctor scanned the adjacent study with the critical eye of a seasoned looter.

His eyes suddenly lit up.

Striding over to Młynar’s immaculate mahogany desk, he snatched up a gold-trimmed fountain pen and smoothly clipped it to his own collar.

“Would you look at that?

I just happened to forget a pen for our little outing today.

I’ll be taking this!”

He rummaged further, humming a cheerful tune.

“Hmm…

the Kazimierz Red Wine Gazette.

Excellent vintage, a true local specialty.

Into the inventory it goes!”

Just as he was shamelessly ransacking the exhausted corporate knight’s personal belongings, the heavy oak door creaked open.

A gentle blonde girl stood in the doorway, her knuckles white as she gripped a training sword with both hands.

Her golden eyes were wide, staring intently at the intruder in the dark coat.

“Who…

who are you?!”

Thieves?

Actual thieves daring to break into the Nearl family estate in broad daylight?

Gravel’s heart skipped a beat.

Oh no.

The mission was compromised.

She tensed her muscles, preparing to drop her concealment, reveal her identity, and forcibly break through the young girl’s guard to secure the Doctor’s escape.

The girl didn’t look very old, but the blood of the Radiant Knight flowed through her veins; she was destined to be a formidable opponent.

Instead of panicking, the Doctor turned around with agonizing slowness.

He deliberately shifted his posture, ensuring the silver Rhodes Island insignia on his coat caught the light.

“We’re thieves,” he stated, his tone as flat and calm as if he were reading a weather report.

“Since this is a rare opportunity, is there anything you want to take from your uncle?

Hurry up and join the raid.

I’ll take all the aggro.”

Gravel’s face drained of color.

He just admitted it?!

At that exact moment, Maria Nearl blinked.

Her grip on the sword loosened as the gears turned in her head.

A white-haired man…

wearing a strange, hooded tactical outfit…

bearing the crest of Rhodes Island.

Could this be her older sister’s current boss?

The legendary “Doctor” that Uncle Młynar occasionally woke up screaming about in the dead of night?

What a phenomenal opportunity!

Maria defected in a fraction of a second.

She tossed the training sword aside with a clatter.

“No need, no need!

Sir, please, take whatever you want first.

If your inventory is full, I can help you carry the rest!”

Gravel stared, utterly bewildered.

A traitor?

The Nearl family has an inside agent?!

The Doctor waved his hand with the easy familiarity of an old friend.

“It’s fine, let’s co-op this.

I just stopped by on the way to a quest, so there’s nothing I particularly need.

I’m mainly just stealing things for the fun of it.”

Gravel’s professional composure began to violently crumble.

Why are you still provoking her?

Doctor, have you somehow seen through some incredible tactical weakness I missed?

Maria’s eyes sparkled with newfound purpose.

She had been secretly planning to forge documents to sign up for the Knight Major, and she desperately needed to scavenge some high-tier equipment from her uncle’s stash.

And just like that, the party of two thieves expanded to three.

“Sir, there are two more pristine copies of the Red Wine Gazette over here.”

“Oh, excellent drop rate.

Thank you, little Maria.”

“These are the silk pajamas Uncle is very used to wearing.

Sir, do you want to take them?”

The Doctor inspected the fabric and sighed.

“Let’s skip the worn gear.

I brought my own.

Besides, look at the tag—these pajamas were manufactured by Rhodes Island anyway.”

“Maria,” the Doctor pointed toward a heavy display stand.

“Your uncle’s armor and broadsword—could you equip those?”

“Ah…

these?

Can I really take them?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll hold the frontline and keep watch for you!” The Doctor declared, thumping his chest with a hollow, unconvincing thud.

“Wahoo!

Thank you, sir!

Oh, and this is the corporate planning proposal Uncle wrote two days ago.

You should definitely take it; the formatting is very versatile as a template for different administrative content!”

“Solid loot.

Alright, here, Maria.

I found your uncle’s official Household Register.

Now you won’t need his permission to bypass any future dialogue checks!”

Twenty minutes later, Gravel walked out of the Nearl estate with a completely numb expression.

Her arms were overflowing with a massive, precarious pile of stolen goods, trailing behind the Doctor like a pack mule.

“Come back often!” Maria waved enthusiastically from the porch, looking entirely too pleased with the devastation of her uncle’s study.

Gravel swallowed hard.

The Nearl family…

is terrifying.

The Doctor patted Gravel’s shoulder, adjusting his collar.

“Let’s head back to base.

Those corporate hyenas from the Chamber of Commerce must be getting impatient for our meeting.”

As the two figures gradually receded into the bustling Kazimierz streets, the rustling leaves of the estate’s manicured bushes parted.

A Platinum-colored shadow melted out from the foliage, her bow lowered, and quietly began to tail them.

“Old man, just head over there and act as my vanguard.

You don’t have to worry about the politics.

There will definitely be high-tier buffs at the banquet.

Just find a table and eat.

If your stamina runs low, ask the waiter for more.”

The Doctor double-checked his trousers to ensure his disguise was flawless, then reached up to pat Patriot’s massive, imposing shoulder with absolute earnestness.

As he spoke, his sleight of hand went to work, smoothly slipping a vial of clear liquid into the Wendigo’s water canteen.

It was the experimental Oripathy suppressant he had just synthesized using his own blood.

Don’t get any other ideas, old man.

Just drink it.

Originally, the Doctor had only come to Kazimierz to fish in troubled waters—to see if he could exploit the game mechanics and tear a lucrative chunk of capital away from the General Chamber of Commerce.

But his recent detour through the Infected slums had completely rewritten his quest log.

There was an old saying: A gentleman keeps his hands clean of the slaughterhouse.

The miserable, suffocating reality of the Kazimierz undercity hadn’t ignited a fiery, righteous anger in his chest, but it had allowed his hyper-analytical gamer brain to keenly capture a massive, hidden exploit.

There were only two fundamental reasons why Kazimierz hadn’t erupted into a bloody, Chernobog-style riot: the strict rationing of Oripathy Inhibitors to control their physical needs, and the endless spectacle of the knight competitions to sedate their spiritual needs.

Coincidentally, the current Rhodes Island had the infrastructure to monopolize both.

He had already sent out the urgent summons.

Degenbrecher and Margaret Nearl were en route.

The Infected in this city were a pressurized powder keg.

With just a slight manipulation of public opinion, they would become a faction of allies infinitely more useful than the Ursus miners.

Scanning the tactical map in his mind, only two factions could realistically block his speedrun: the Adeptus Spire and the Silverlance Pegasi.

The Adeptus Spire was perpetually gridlocked in political warfare with the Chamber of Commerce.

As long as his AP actions were fast enough, their reaction time would lag.

The Silverlance Pegasi were stationed at the borders, their movements heavily restricted and monitored by the Chamber’s paranoid executives.

More, he had spent the morning reviewing the restricted PRTS logs.

The ‘former’ him—the Ghost of Babel—had been terrifyingly successful.

That version of the Doctor had practically steamrolled across Terra, ravaging strategically vital nations like Kazimierz with cold, mathematical precision.

He considered himself a reasonable player.

But he also knew that even the most stubborn NPCs who knew his background would suddenly become very reasonable after a localized display of overwhelming force.

As long as he could seize administrative control of Kazimierz’s commerce for just one fiscal quarter, this glittering, neon-lit nation would never again escape the shadow of Rhodes Island.

When the time came, wouldn’t it be an absolute flex to build a miniature landship disguised as a pharmaceutical branch office right on this vast plain?

Ah, no, he corrected himself.

It’s a ‘pharmaceutical company capable of transforming into a heavily armed colossus in an emergency’.

Much better branding.

“Let’s move out.

I’ll take you all to get some premium EXP.” The Doctor waved his hand, and Exusiai and Texas immediately fell into formation beside him.

“Keep your guard up,” he murmured, his tone dropping its comedic edge.

“Today’s banquet might trigger a very interesting event chain.”

Texas’s sharp eyes caught the subtle shift in his demeanor.

The air around him had grown distinctly colder.

“Doctor.

Do I need to bring my blades?”

He waved her off, the lazy smile returning.

“No need.

Everyone just relax and enjoy the cutscenes.

It doesn’t matter at all even if the negotiations fail!”

While Exusiai cheered at the prospect of free food, Texas’s tail flicked.

She had already read between the lines.

She had seen this exact tactic countless times back in the blood-soaked banquets of Siracusa.

Pretending to negotiate in good faith, while entirely intending to violently flip the table and slaughter the opposition—this was the true nature of the “Doctor.”

She had fled Siracusa specifically to avoid getting caught up in another feast of wolves.

Logic dictated she should leave before the blood started flowing.

But Texas paused, her gaze drifting toward the safehouse where they had left the two Infected children the Doctor had rescued earlier.

Two filthy, starving kids, reeking of the absolute end of their rope.

At the very least, she had to wait until this operation was over before considering her departure.

If only to ensure those two survived the fallout.

The Doctor…

Texas thought, watching his retreating back.

I really understand him less and less.

“The Doctor…

I really understand him less and less.”

Młynar Nearl let out a long, soul-weary sigh.

He slowly pulled his heavy leather belt from his waist, the brass buckle clinking ominously in the quiet study.

He looked down at Blemishine, who was currently trembling like a leaf in a hurricane.

“You say he stopped by and looted my belongings.

Fine.

I believe that.

Yith Milk and the Red Wine Gazette seem exactly like the sort of trivial nonsense he would be interested in.” Młynar’s golden eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a dangerous, exhausted rumble.

“But how, pray tell, did a man with the physical strength of a sickly Victorian noble manage to carry away my heavy armor and my broadsword?”

Maria swallowed hard, realizing her dialogue options were rapidly running out.

She squeezed out a desperate, flattering smile for her uncle.

“W-well, when he came in, he seemed to have brought a very strong knight guard with him!

Yes!

A guard!”

The Doctor has recruited another knight?

Młynar couldn’t quite describe the headache pulsing behind his eyes.

He frowned deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose, and forced himself to compartmentalize that terrifying thought for later.

“Then, Miss Maria,” Młynar said softly, tapping the leather belt against his palm.

“Can you explain to me why the Doctor felt the need to steal my official Household Register?”

Maria broke into a cold sweat.

[Rhodes’s Note:

Enjoying the operation so far, Doctor?

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

to use the links!)