Chapter 68: The Wind Rises from the Tip of the Duckweed

The earpiece crackled. The Doctor’s voice filtered through the comms, smooth and casually detached. “I’ll monitor the situation from my end. Nothing should go wrong. You two are blending into the lower districts and handing out supplies in broad daylight—just remember not to blow your cover. Texas, keep an eye on her.”

“Don’t worry, Boss!” Exusiai’s face lit up with a brilliant, unwavering smile. “Back when we were running jobs for Penguin Logistics, we saw this kind of crowd all the time. Even if those Kazimierz merchants held a blade to my throat, I’d guarantee the delivery gets done!” She tapped her headset, mimicking the firm thump of a chest-beating promise.

Texas crossed her arms. She watched in deadpan silence as her simple-minded colleague sold them out to their new employer in record time.

The mastermind on the other end didn’t miss a beat, intentionally adding, “I’m still more reassured by Texas. Why don’t you let her speak?”

Before Texas could even turn her head, Exusiai chirped right back. “No need! Texas already said she’d keep a good eye on me, right?”

Texas remained perfectly still. “…Right.”

If she didn’t keep a tight leash on her, this trigger-happy Sankta really would get sold off by their black-hearted boss and still cheerfully help him count the LMD.

Beep. The connection severed. Exusiai slung her Vector over her shoulder and marched toward the temporary warehouse’s rusted roll-up door. “Let’s roll, Texas. We’ve got a whole lot of supplies to hand out today!”

Texas fell into step behind her. “Lemuel. Wait.” Her voice dropped, shedding its usual casual cadence. “He is extremely dangerous. I can sense a madness in him… something even more volatile than the families in Siracusa.”

Exusiai’s boots scuffed to a halt against the concrete.

Texas took a slow, measured breath. “…You don’t understand what kind of man he is. You don’t know what he truly wants. We, at the very least, deserve the right to know before we dive in.”

She expected pushback. She expected her partner to question the sudden paranoia or wave it off entirely. Instead, Exusiai turned around, her expression entirely devoid of anger. A soft, genuine smile touched her lips.

“Actually, I don’t fully understand him either. And of course I can sense how dangerous he is… Sankta are naturally sensitive to threats.” She paused, her bright eyes steady. “But we’re also the most sensitive to emotions. Ever since he woke up, he has trusted me without a single reservation. In exchange, I’m willing to give him that exact same loyalty.”

“I’m betting he won’t become just another Siracusan mob boss.”

The fluorescent halo above Exusiai’s head flared, casting a long, stark shadow behind Texas. In that brief flash of light, Texas realized something cold and heavy: after years of running from bounties, she might never have truly escaped Siracusa’s shadow.

Perhaps, once the dust settled in Kazimierz, it would be time to go back and sever those ties for good.

“Mm.” Texas offered a muted hum of agreement. Her Lupo ears drooped a fraction as she resumed walking.

“Let’s go, let’s go! Work first, existential crises later! The Boss is waiting on us!” Without warning, Exusiai lunged forward, catching Texas completely off guard, and aggressively ruffled the Lupo’s ears. “Oh wow, so this is why the Boss is always trying to pet everyone! Texas, your ears are so bouncy!”

“Be serious. Where is your professionalism?” Texas snapped, swatting the hands away.

“Sigh~ Why is it that when the Doctor touches a Lupo’s ears, their tails instinctively wag, but when I touch yours, you just glare at me?”

“Because he is the Doctor. And you are just a Sankta who likes eating apple pie and blowing things up.”

“Texas, you…”

“A Sankta who is about to get thrown through a brick wall if she says one more word.”

“Waaa.”

The two of them kept up their banter as the heavy transport truck rumbled deeper into the chaotic, neon-lit grime of the lower districts.

“Free distribution of emergency medicine, clean bottled water, and compressed rations! Sponsored by Rhodes Island’s Courier Knight! Everything is free!”

Since the Doctor was footing the bill, Exusiai didn’t hold back. The man was like a walking mint—somehow, he always managed to conjure up endless funds and resources for Rhodes Island out of thin air. Her recent bonuses alone were enough to buy three new custom firearms. She firmly believed their Boss was loaded.

This was their twelfth consecutive day running relief in the slums. The crowd of Infected had swelled, and they no longer snatched the goods and fled into the alleys like frightened rats.

Some had started paying attention to this ‘Courier Knight’ they kept shouting about. Others quietly asked for the location of his arena matches, planning to set up small stalls nearby.

A woman in threadbare, oil-stained clothes cautiously approached the truck for the first time. She kept her head bowed, whispering, “I went to watch… He fought beautifully. He is a truly incredible Infected.”

Exusiai spun around, flashing a megawatt smile. “Please keep supporting our Courier Knight! Here, take these!”

She shoved a ration pack into the woman’s hands, then hesitated. Unclipping a heavy-duty tactical strap from her own rig, she offered it out. “The Boss said strict limits—one ration per person. But how about I personally sponsor you with this tactical strap?”

The woman froze, staring at the military-grade webbing in utter bewilderment.

Texas stepped up, flicked Exusiai hard on the forehead, and smoothly swapped the strap for a foil-wrapped slice of leftover apple pie from last night. “Are you expecting her to strangle someone with a strap?”

“Ow!” Exusiai whined, clutching her forehead.

The woman remained paralyzed. Texas looked at her with flat, unblinking eyes. “Take it. I’ll bill the Boss.”

Trembling, the woman reached out and took the cold slice of pie. As if suddenly waking from a trance, she bowed her head in thanks and hurried away, melting into the crowd without looking back.

“She’s gone…” Exusiai muttered, her halo dimming slightly.

“She is incredibly brave just for standing up to speak with us,” Texas noted objectively. “Don’t forget, to them, Rhodes Island looks exactly like the K.G.C.C.—just another mega-corporation.”

“Just like how people are already quietly following our matches, but are too terrified to admit it out loud.”

In this hyper-commercialized, cutthroat city, the bottom-feeders weren’t allowed to have hobbies. Entertainment was a luxury for the rich; for the Infected, showing interest in an arena knight was a quick way to get targeted.

“Did you hear? That Infected knight who’s been handing out the free food… he’s actually really strong. Won a bunch of bouts already.”

“Hmph. Just another corporate lapdog packaged by the elites. You actually buy that garbage?”

“…I don’t want to. But what if? I snuck a look at the broadcasts yesterday. That knight’s Oripathy looks severe. I’m just… I’m going to look for some day labor near his arena. Maybe I can score another tip from that Mule Island company or whatever it’s called.”

“…Fine. I’ll tag along. They’ve been feeding me biscuits for two weeks anyway. My life is cheap enough to be bought with a box of rations.”

In the dark, damp alleys, whispers of a brand-new Infected idol would always cut off abruptly, only to spark back to life the moment no enforcers were looking.

What if?

It couldn’t possibly get any worse than it already was.

[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!]