Chapter 61: The Tea Lid is MVP!

“Just as we previously agreed, Rhodes Island intends to cooperate more deeply with everyone here.

This includes, but is certainly not limited to, healthcare, food distribution, infrastructure construction, and media…”

The guards quietly pulled the heavy doors of the VIP room shut, sealing the space.

The Doctor sat upon the plush leather sofa with the casual familiarity of a mob boss, his legs crossed.

A holographic projection from PRTS hovered in the air above the coffee table, displaying a complete, ruthlessly efficient business model.

The glowing blue modules symbolizing Rhodes Island flawlessly enveloped all the market sectors the Commerce Union had previously dismissed as suffering from ‘technical difficulties.’

“Rhodes Island is fully equipped to take over the vast majority of the workload.

We use the most advanced intelligent management system on the market, PRTS, ensuring that the destination of every single fund is perfectly traceable.

Under our mutual cooperation, the market price of Acute Oripathy suppressants can be driven down to exactly sixty-five LMD per unit.” He held a delicate porcelain teacup in one hand, while his other hand casually manipulated the holographic model, zooming in to display the microscopic details of the proposed interface.

Who the hell wants to drive down medicine prices with you?!

The representative of the Commerce Union was breaking into a cold sweat, his tailored suit suddenly feeling entirely too tight.

This was not a ‘good cooperation’ proposal at all.

This was a blatant, unapologetic threat.

This masked lunatic wanted to completely destroy the entire Kazimierz pharmaceutical market through aggressive dumping!

“As for the traditional sport of the Knight Competition, due to its astronomically high operating costs, we have drafted an alternative solution.” The Doctor’s finger swiped lightly through the air.

The complex corporate model shattered into pixels, instantly reconstructing itself into a cascading deck of digital cards.

“We can introduce highly improved, one-on-one fair duel games.

Titles like Yu-Gi-Oh!, Hearthstone, and Legends of the Three Kingdoms will drastically increase public participation while cultivating a new generation of highly influential, highly marketable national stars.”

The spokesperson’s face turned as black as the bottom of a scorched pot.

What on earth was this maniac thinking?

Was he trying to humiliate the entirety of Kazimierz?!

“Sir, the internal affairs of Kazimierz do not require outside interference.” The spokesperson forced down his boiling anger, gripping the edge of the table.

“, I recall that your pharmaceutical company does not possess the legal qualifications to conduct mass business within Kazimierz borders…”

The Doctor lightly tapped the porcelain lid against his teacup.

A sharp, clear clink rang out.

“Please come in, Mr.

Sergiusz.”

The spokesperson whipped his head around in absolute fury.

The heavy mahogany doors swung open, revealing the familiar, thoroughly infuriating smiling face of an official from the Adeptus Speluncae.

“Rhodes Island’s cross-border trade application is entirely compliant and perfectly reasonable.

I am sorry, but we have no legal grounds to refuse them.” Sergiusz respectfully placed a stamped, pristine business license onto the table directly in front of the Doctor, then stepped back, standing silently like a loyal shadow behind the sofa.

“Even if you force your way into doing business, does your company genuinely believe its bleeding-heart reputation among the Infected will make those sickly wretches willing to squeeze the last bit of profit from their own bones for you?”

The Doctor offered a low, chilling chuckle.

He reached into his coat, pulled out a sealed envelope, and pushed it across the table.

“This is a handwritten letter of endorsement from the Candle Knight.

Also, you may come in.”

He tapped the tea lid against the cup again, the gesture carrying a hint of arrogant impatience.

This time, the Black Knight, Degenbrecher, and the Radiant Knight, Nearl, strode into the room side by side.

The immense pressure of their combined presence suffocated the room as they took their places to his left and right.

The spokesperson ground his teeth together, finally dropping his diplomatic mask.

He leaned forward, threatening with a venomous, fake smile.

“Fine.

Fine, you are ruthless.

But without our distribution networks, you had better find a local franchisee who actually dares to support your arrogant little plan first!”

Bang!

This time, the Doctor did not even need to tap the lid.

The heavy doors burst open.

A massive crowd of small-time merchants and independent business owners—the very people who had just been clinking glasses at the outer banquet—swarmed into the room, instantly turning the once-serious, oppressive VIP lounge into a chaotic, bustling marketplace.

For a full three minutes, the enthusiastic, deafening shouts of “Doctor!” and “Praise Rhodes Island!” echoed off the walls.

The noise only subsided when the merchants spontaneously organized themselves, forming two neat, respectful rows on either side of the sofa.

Veins popped furiously on the spokesperson’s forehead.

“Still…”

“Sorry, wait just a second!” A chubby Kuranta merchant looked left, then looked right.

He noticed there were exactly three fewer people standing on the right side than the left, and his severe OCD instantly flared up.

He scurried frantically past the seething spokesperson.

“There!

Now it’s perfectly symmetrical.”

The Doctor smiled behind his mask.

“See?

Kazimierz never lacks brave souls.”

The negotiations had completely collapsed.

The spokesperson laughed in pure exasperation, the veins on his face bulging dangerously.

“Contact Rhine Lab!

Tell them we accept their terms of cooperation!

At their previous price!”

The Doctor remained entirely unhurried.

He slowly raised his hand, appearing as if he were about to tap the infamous tea lid one more time.

“STOP!!!!”

Driven by pure desperation, the spokesperson proved to be both quick-witted and fast-handed.

He lunged across the table and snatched the porcelain tea lid right out of the Doctor’s hand.

“What else are you trying to summon?!”

The Doctor froze.

He sat there looking genuinely dazed, staring blankly at his suddenly lidless teacup like a man who had just been robbed of his ultimate weapon.

Seeing the mastermind finally falter, the spokesperson pressed his perceived advantage.

“I will not give you another chance to pull any of your parlor tricks.

I have already directly contacted the Director of Rhine Lab’s Ecology Section…”

The communicator on the table lit up briefly, buzzed, and then abruptly disconnected.

To the spokesperson’s absolute disbelief, the lukewarm tea inside the cup the Doctor had been holding for over half an hour suddenly defied gravity.

The liquid rose into the air, rapidly expanding and taking shape.

Within seconds, the floating water outlined the delicate, unmistakable figure of an elven girl he knew all too well—the Director of Rhine Lab’s Ecology Section.

“What?

There’s no need to contact my main body!

Just tell me whatever it is directly!” The water-elf clone version of Muelsyse gave the Doctor a lively, playful wink, then naturally floated over to stand right behind his sofa.

The chubby Kuranta merchant, who had just run from right to left, stared intently at the water clone’s walking path.

Only after confirming that her new position behind the Doctor kept the room’s overall headcount perfectly symmetrical did he breathe a long, satisfied sigh of relief.

Half a month ago, inside the dimly lit “Grey Matter” bar.

“I’ve heard many people talk about you, Doctor.” Muelsyse smiled, raising her glass to clink against yours.

Her bright eyes scanned the smoky surroundings of the underground tavern.

“You really stood me up for a whole week, you know~”

“What about the lady hiding behind you?

Isn’t she coming out to drink too?”

It seemed that even within the water elf’s impressive range of perception, Wis’adel’s active stealth camouflage was still just a bit lacking.

You shrugged helplessly, taking a sip of your drink.

“That’s just her habit.

Why don’t you order a basket of fried potatoes and have the bartender set them outside the door?

She’ll probably creep over and get them herself when no one is looking.”

Muelsyse was stunned for a brief moment before she burst into bright, genuine laughter.

“Hahaha, your way of getting along with your operators is really interesting!”

See?

People with high emotional intelligence speak so pleasantly!

If that had been Kal’tsit sitting across the table, she would definitely be glaring daggers and muttering something infinitely depressing like, ‘In the face of the endless suffering upon this cursed land, I have absolutely no intention of being considerate toward the ridiculous emotional attrition between you and your mercenaries.’

Sigh, what a traditional, nagging old feline!

Thinking of Kal’tsit, whom you had just successfully tricked into taking a detour to another city, you couldn’t help but feel a sudden surge of phantom sorrow.

You gulped down two more massive mouthfuls of iced Cola to soothe your nerves.

If this world were still just a game on a screen, tonight’s bar conversation would be padded to absolute hell and back.

It would inevitably devolve into a mind-numbing riddle-fest:

‘How did you predict I would come?”I don’t know.”Do you really expect me to believe you don’t know?”I really don’t know.”I’ve already quit the game.”No, our interests are deeply linked, we must continue to cooperate.”I can’t trust you.”Then I’ll tell you I’m currently doing balabala.”Then I’ll also tell you I was doing balabala back then.”We have common interests.”Then tell me the truth first.”Fine, the truth is balabala.”So can we cooperate now?”I’ll think about it; let’s talk more in the next Side Story.’

Then you’d look at the dialogue log—tens of thousands of words wasted for such a tiny plot progression.

And the animation budget would just be two static character portraits lighting up on the left and right sides of the screen before sliding off-screen together.

And that would be it!

It would just end!

No key issues actually discussed.

As for whether the alliance works out?

Hey, wait six months for the next event banner.

“One question for another,” you said, preempting any attempt at visual novel padding.

You placed a small metallic object on the counter.

“Where did you get this USB drive?”

Muelsyse tilted her head, looking thoughtfully at the device.

“So this little thing is called a USB drive…”

“Don’t get sidetracked, just tell me where you found it.” If Muelsyse actually knew any deep lore inside information, you’d eat a fully armed Emperor’s Blade raw.

On this unforgiving land, everyone connected to your forgotten past was decisive, ruthless, and sharp-eyed.

No one in their right mind would hand over key historical information to a sheltered elf who clearly hadn’t even found her way out of her own existential confusion yet.

“Ah…

let me think.

It seems I picked it up from Kristen Wright’s office once.”

How exactly did she get it?

Muelsyse suddenly frowned, realizing with a start that she couldn’t actually remember the exact details of acquiring it.

Kristen?

Was I so utterly desperate back then that I allowed the Terran races to come into direct contact with technological secrets of this level?

You thought subconsciously, your gamer instincts screaming that the lore was breaking.

No…

perhaps Kristen wasn’t the final link in that chain either.

Fortunately, this brief conversation pointed your deductive reasoning in the right direction.

That metaphorical grey sea of lost history might be suspended entirely outside this world.

You stood up, walked over to the bar’s entrance, and pulled open the heavy rolling shutter.

You stepped outside into the cool air and looked up.

The gentle, deep night was a synthetic shade of blue-violet.

The massive, artificial barrier of the Starcaps enveloped the entire atmosphere, ensuring that not a single ray of genuine starlight ever breached the sky of Terra.

Who knows, maybe outside this little planetary bubble, some alien species was about to finish building an Aether-Phase Engine and blow up the entire galaxy!

The wonders of the cosmos!

Muelsyse followed quietly behind you.

She stood by your side, looking up at the oppressive, starless sky with a deep frown.

“It’s always so dark, I can’t see anything up there…” She murmured softly.

“Do all you smart people like looking at the sky so much?

Or is it that you, like her, have someone incredibly important related to the sky or the stars?”

Emmmmm…

Priestess.

How could she not count?

She was so important to the lore—and to the Doctor’s buried memories—that your heart started thumping wildly in your chest just thinking about her!

[Rhodes’s Note:

Enjoying the operation so far, Doctor?

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

to use the links!)