Chapter 79: Iconic Scene! Armorless Union Dissolution Progress

The paperwork had piled up to the point where petting a small animal’s tail to relieve stress was an impossible luxury. The avalanche of olive branches extended by various factions signaled exactly how tedious the docking and reconstruction phase would be now that the Commerce Union had been brought to heel. After sharing a plate of distinctly strange-tasting cookies with the old man, you had chained yourself to the desk, working straight through the afternoon and deep into the midnight hours.

Platinum had replaced the usual assistant at the door. She possessed far more corporate experience, a fact proven by the way she had already paced back and forth carrying towering stacks of documents no less than twenty times.

The Kuranta assassin could no longer bring herself to hate the exploitative mastermind who had taken her captive. He did indeed work her like a beast of burden, but he was currently treating himself like a nuclear-powered workhorse.

For an entire afternoon, the man’s pen had not stopped moving. The sheer volume of processing he had accomplished would have taken the entire clerical staff of the Armorless Union half a year to finalize.

What moved her slightly was that, despite the crushing mountain of logistics, he never once asked her to share the actual mental burden. The boss remained glued to his terminal, yet he had specifically paused to mandate a dinner break for her.

Why did this ruthless dictator look increasingly handsome the longer she stared. He was responsible. He shielded his subordinates. He never passed the buck when a crisis erupted. Looking closely beneath the hood, the lines of his face were actually quite striking.

Platinum had always been exceptional at self-adjustment. If she could not be a knight, she would be an assassin. Keeping her former master’s bloody lessons firmly in mind, she fully intended to slack off whenever possible. But since she had been forcibly shackled to Rhodes Island to run errands, she figured she might as well enjoy the view. The Commander’s appearance was highly pleasing to the eye. She had no reason to treat herself poorly.

Since she could only look at him and not actually eat him, stealing a few extra glances was a net profit.

Completely unaware of the wild, inappropriate thoughts running through your assistant’s head, your brain was already hovering on the absolute brink of a fatal crash.

Supporting the operations of a single pharmaceutical company was troublesome, but manageable. Planning the total transformation and economic reconstruction of an entire nation down to the smallest infrastructural detail was a terrifying drain on your sanity.

One person. One terminal. One afternoon. Hand-crafting a new world order.

Thanks to the complete education of your past life, you could directly transplant concepts for social welfare and aggressive economic revival through centralized planning. The extraordinary physical constitution of Terra’s inhabitants also meant that the baseline cost of social insurance would not spiral infinitely out of control.

At this rate, it actually seemed possible to build a true Babel on this unforgiving land, a sanctuary everyone would yearn for.

Was what the previous you said actually the truth.

You shook your head vigorously, violently dispelling the ridiculous thought. You were not some hot-blooded, chuunibyou teenager. You would never fall into such a melodramatic trap.

This was the grounded confidence of a twenty-four-year-old adult.

When you finally lifted your head from the suffocating pile of documents, it was not because the work was finished. Power could be seized on any given Tuesday, but you would only ever have one chance to witness this iconic scene in person.

You were ready. You had even prepared a little extra spice for the occasion.

The night had deepened considerably. Roy, leading a few elite squads of the Armorless Union, stood in the shadows making final confirmations with the subordinates he had temporarily commandeered.

He rubbed his temples, exhaling a long breath. Breaking away from this mess is impossible for now. Do you all remember the three sets of tactical gestures.

Never mind, it is not that complicated. After you see the target later, I will snap my fingers, and you will immediately act.

The park was dark, quiet, and completely devoid of pedestrians.

Roy walked a few steps down the paved path. Finally, beneath the pale glow of a solitary streetlamp, he spotted a golden-haired man sitting on a park bench, wearily reading a newspaper.

The light cascaded directly over his head, casting long shadows that made the man appear deeply lonely.

Roy swallowed his hesitation. He could not afford to fail this mission. The Commerce Union was already drafting plans to purge their rebellious faction of the Armorless Union.

He plastered a friendly smile across his face, stepped out of the shadows, and sat on the far left side of the bench. He crossed his legs, leaning toward Młynar with an air of casual camaraderie.

What are you reading. The papers these past few days are completely flooded with news about the Nearl family’s returning knight and the endless scandals of the Commerce Union. Are you actually interested in that garbage.

Młynar remained silent. His eyes did not leave the page.

Roy leaned in a fraction closer. Or are you waiting for someone. A beautiful woman, perhaps.

Considering how thoroughly Rhodes Island personnel had infested the city recently, a flash of inspiration struck the Lazurite. Or someone from Rhodes Island. Or maybe more than one person.

Młynar turned a page. He remained silent.

Roy forced his smile to stay wide. The Commerce Union has actually always been very concerned about you.

He abruptly choked on his next word.

From the oppressive darkness of the park path, a woman in a sharp black uniform carrying a long, heavy truncheon was slowly approaching.

Degenbrecher walked over without a single sound. She sat down on the left side of the bench, right next to Roy. She said nothing.

Młynar remained silent.

Roy’s facial muscles locked. He slowly lowered his gesturing hand, his mind racing to calculate a graceful, non-lethal exit strategy.

Hahaha, as expected, there really is a beautiful lady waiting for you. Roy forced a dry laugh, but the sound died in his throat.

Another figure materialized from the gloom.

Fully armed and radiating a quiet, crushing intensity, The Radiant Knight approached. Margaret Nearl gave a brief, respectful nod to Młynar.

Młynar remained silent.

Margaret sat down squarely between Młynar and Degenbrecher.

Roy quietly uncrossed his legs and planted both feet firmly on the ground. The bench was getting extremely crowded.

Ha. Haha. There seems to be an unexpectedly large turnout tonight.

This time, he shut his mouth completely.

Beside him, Degenbrecher suddenly raised her weapon, her posture shifting into absolute vigilance.

From the opposite side of the park, a white-haired, red-eyed little girl skipped slowly into the light, her crimson gaze locked entirely on the bench.

The Sanguinarch had been scouring the city for days. The large-scale evacuation of Rhodes Island operators had made his grand plan to approach the Doctor infuriatingly difficult. This current vessel was even worse than the mature woman image he had used previously, which at least would have allowed him to present a familiar face.

Duq’arael had tracked the Doctor’s lingering scent all the way to this exact location, only to find this Kuranta reading a newspaper. The horse must have seen his target.

The little girl skipped right up to the bench, wedged herself between Roy and Młynar, and sneered into the night air without uttering a single syllable.

The silence grew suffocating.

The bench was now critically over capacity. Roy’s body was half-shoved off the edge of the wood, but he sat as rigidly obedient as a frightened quail. He did not dare twitch a single muscle.

Did he really have to complete this mission.

Roy could no longer empathize with the version of himself from five minutes ago.

High above in the distant shadows, the Witch King, who had been monitoring the Sanguinarch’s movements, had already rendezvoused with you. Subconsciously intending to stand back and watch the theatrical display unfold, he suddenly found himself grabbed by the ear and physically hurled out of the bushes.

You were adding more spice.

The Witch King sighed, instantly understanding the assignment. His figure blurred. In the next fraction of a second, he transformed his appearance into that of a former confidant, a notorious remnant of his own royal court, and swaggered into the lamplight.

He evaluated the seating arrangement and smoothly forced his way into the nonexistent gap between Duq’arael and Roy.

Just as his weight settled.

A sharp, violent crack echoed through the park. The overburdened wooden bench snapped cleanly in two. Roy plummeted backward, hitting the dirt in a tangle of splintered wood and iron armrests.

When the Lazurite scrambled to look up, the five terrifying entities who had been total strangers just moments prior had formed a perfect circle around him.

They said nothing. They only stared down at him.

Roy squeezed out a smile. It was a ghastly, stiff expression. His metaphorical tail was tucked firmly between his legs.

So. The quality of public infrastructure here really is not up to standard. Ha.

Młynar looked at him. Degenbrecher looked at him. Nearl looked at him. Duq’arael looked at him. The Witch King looked at him.

Roy did not even attempt to make the tactical hand gesture. He shamelessly pointed a trembling finger toward the dark tree line.

My subordinates are all hiding over there. My bow is secured at my waist. My communicator password is three two five. Is there absolutely anything else you need me to confess. I surrender.

What else was he supposed to do. If he snapped his fingers right now, the resulting crossfire would vaporize half of Kazimierz.

The circle of monsters remained silent.

Roy’s brain went into overdrive, desperately recalling every scrap of leaked intelligence regarding Rhodes Island’s recruitment metrics.

My class is Ambusher. I require Bipolar Nanoflakes and D32 Steel to maintain my equipment. My talent is strictly commanding Kazimierz snipers to increase their attack speed.

Nobody spoke. The killing intent in the air grew thick enough to choke on.

My total damage output is barely forty thousand. My skill rotation is completely terrible, and I can only hit single targets.

Instantly, the freezing atmosphere shattered. The oppressive aura vanished like smoke in the wind.

It is fine. Really, it is fine. Welcome to Rhodes Island. Nearl offered her iconic, blindingly warm smile.

Sorry about that. I did not quite hear you earlier while I was reading. Młynar folded his newspaper neatly and tucked it away.

Hmph. The little Sanguinarch tilted her head, losing interest.

A pleasure to meet you. Degenbrecher extended a gloved hand to help him up.

The Witch King merely smiled. Fearing the accidental spread of his Arts contamination, he kept his mouth shut.

Only the Doctor, crouching deep in the bushes, clutched his chest in absolute heartbreak over the terrible gacha stats.

[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!]