Arknights: I became an NPC in the online game

Carnelian knew, deep down, that Felix was always on the lookout for allies—people who could stand beside him, no matter the place or time.

His goal was obvious. From the moment he'd founded his company, Carnelian had realized he wasn't joking—he meant it. And if that was the case, then as a Sargonian, she would naturally follow him. And, well… have some fun along the way.

Of course, they couldn't walk this road alone. Felix never said it outright, but Carnelian understood—if you wanted to accomplish something big, you couldn't rely on one person's strength.

When they'd brought Avdotya along, Carnelian had half-expected Felix to simply talk her into joining them. Some might say he'd rescued her out of pity for a lonely, helpless girl. But looking at her now, it seemed… Avdotya was nearly won over already.

Felix busied himself with a Rhine Lab's detector, scanning for nearby Originium sources. Other than the infected in camp, the area was untouched by the storm. Even in the heavy snow, they could move freely without protective gear.

Before he could finish, there was a knock at the door.

Opening it, he found Petrova, Greg, and Big Bear standing outside. They'd shed their Yeti squad coats for thick, casual ones, tools in hand, looking ready for work.

"Let's help Mr. Pioneer clean up," Petrova said with a smile, wooden broom resting on her shoulder. "No one's lived here for a while—place is bare."

Greg and Big Bear nodded silently, then the three of them set to work without waiting for a reply.

Felix accepted their kindness. With Avdotya and a few others pitching in, the once-gloomy room soon felt bright and alive again.

"Mr. Pioneer, here's a quilt. Nights get cold—you'd better sleep with someone," Big Bear rumbled, lugging the thick bedding toward him.

Carnelian burst out laughing. Avdotya's eyes darted away, cheeks coloring. Petrova smacked Big Bear in the shoulder.

"Hey! Don't talk to a guest like that! You'll give the pioneers—and the girls—a bad name!"

"…What? Greg and I sleep together all the time," Big Bear protested.

Petrova shot Greg a murderous glare. Greg's hands shot up. "Nope. Not me. I don't know him."

"…," Felix murmured, taking the quilt with a soft word of thanks.

He could feel the warmth in their gestures—genuine kindness from the infected.

Dinner that night exceeded his expectations. In the north, winter nights fell early; people ate early, slept early. Felix had brought plenty of meat and long-lasting winter stores. They boiled it all in a massive pot, the broth filling the air with rich steam.

Here, everyone in camp had meat to eat—a necessity for keeping up strength. After all, Patriot and Frostnova's people weren't ordinary infected. They were soldiers. And an army ran on food. If you wanted them carrying out missions in the snowfields, you had to keep them fed.

Under the glow of the campfire, Frostnova took small bites of dry bread, washing them down with sips of slightly cooled broth. Beside her sat the ever-silent Patriot. Father and daughter shared the quiet, letting the snowy wind carry its stillness around them.

"Where did you get your medicine?"

Frostnova lifted her eyes to the man who had saved and raised her. "From Mr. Pioneer," she replied evenly. "It can ease the crystallization symptoms of oripathy… Dad, would you like some?"

"…No need."

A faint wisp of white mist escaped from beneath Patriot's armor. His gaze lingered on the campfires in the distance, wordless and heavy.

"His behavior is unacceptable."

"Dad, you mean Mr. Pioneer? Why?"

"Medicine like that… is drinking poison to quench thirst."

"Why?" Frostnova asked, but even as the word left her lips, she understood his meaning. She pressed them together before adding softly, "Mr. Pioneer isn't what you think he is."

"I understand," Patriot's gravelly voice replied, "but that doesn't make it acceptable."

Frostnova let out a quiet sigh. To the pioneers, that bottle of medicine might have been a casual gift—but to her, it was like a cup of sweet, deadly wine. Once she took it and felt the warmth and relief spread through her body, it was hard to imagine going back to the constant ache.

She had endured for this long and could endure still, but the drug's effect on the infected was undeniable. If it could be produced and sold openly, it could change lives.

Yet from Patriot's perspective, Felix's gesture looked like an attempt to bind her. If other infected, unable to bear their pain, sought him out for the same medicine, he could easily gather a force of warriors willing to fight to the death for him.

Of course, Felix had done no such thing. The drug was still experimental, with resistance developing quickly. Its initial, dramatic effect would inevitably fade. Even so, it had been the very medicine that won last year's Life Science Award from Columbia's scientific community.

Patriot trusted his daughter. He spoke of it only in passing, as he did with most things—guiding Frostnova as a warrior, and showing his fatherly care only in brief, almost hidden moments.

Frostnova's gaze drifted toward Felix, laughing with Petrova, Big Bear, and Greg. Their boisterous voices and easy smiles carried through the cold air, bright as sunlight breaking over snow.

"Dad, are all Sankta like Mr. Pioneer?"

Patriot paused before answering. "He is… very special. A unusual sankta"

"I know. Most people recoil at the sight of the infected, but Mr. Pioneer never does. Even for a Sankta, that's… unusual."

When she glanced back, Patriot had already finished his meal and slipped away to begin his patrol. She pouted, just a little.

The recent search teams had run into trouble. While out on a mission, several Shield Guards were spotted by an Ursus patrol. The two sides exchanged brief gunfire before the Guards managed to slip away unharmed—but their presence had been noticed. Over the past few weeks, reconnaissance for both the Shield Guards and the Yeti Squad had become far more complicated, all in the name of keeping the camp safe.

Frostnova pulled her gaze back, drawing her coat tighter against the cold as she made her way toward the military tent. She might have been the youngest in the army, still not yet an adult, but the fact that she was Patriot's daughter meant no one dared look down on her.

When it came to the pioneers' safety, she kept her word. The weight of so many tasks and responsibilities would have crushed most girls of sixteen or seventeen—but Frostnova was different.

Because she knew she wasn't alone.

The next morning, Felix stepped outside to greet a brewing snowstorm. The weather had turned ugly. Aside from a few early risers working in the bitter wind, most of the infected stayed indoors to rest. In these conditions, catching a cold could be a death sentence.

Not that a cold itself was fatal—but the weakness it caused could worsen oripathy, leaving the infected too sick to work and more likely to die on the job. Oripathy didn't kill instantly, nor was it always a slow decline. It robbed a person of the ability to fight, labor, or exert themselves. Hard work drained their strength, making it harder to keep their bodies from breaking down under the disease. This, too, had been confirmed by research from Columbia's scientific community.

So, in weather like this, only those with milder infections worked outside.

By the afternoon, Felix had claimed a spot in the settlement's square—the very heart of the camp. With the help of Big Bear and Greg, he had a workbench built. Greg also brought tools and equipment left behind by the late camp craftsman, along with a fire source to keep hands from freezing.

Big Bear led a young man over and stopped in front of Felix. The youth's eyes were sharp and full of energy. Felix smiled at the sight before glancing at Big Bear.

"This the craftsman's apprentice?"

"Apprentice is a stretch—more like an assistant," Big Bear rumbled. "Mr. Pioneer, think you can take him in?"

Felix didn't refuse. He wouldn't be staying here forever, and if the settlement was to have a capable craftsman, it would have to be the boy standing before him. Better to start training him now.

Soon, the workshop was open. Thanks to Big Bear and Greg spreading the word, people began gathering around the workbench, craning their necks to see. Felix welcomed them and explained things simply:

Barter. I fix your weapons—you give me anything of value in return. Doesn't matter what it is. I'll take it.

Big Bear and Greg exchanged uneasy looks. The old craftsman had always charged for repairs, but never in such a casual, open-ended way.

Just then, Petrova came rushing back from a mission. As soon as she reached the square, she spotted a long line. Off-duty infected clustered together, chatting, while from the center came the steady, rhythmic sound of hammering.

Petrova stood on tiptoe and spotted Felix at the workshop, hammering away at weapons to restore their durability.

She hadn't forgotten she owed him payment, but her small stash of valuables was running thin. After some thought, she decided to part with a piece of pure ore—untainted by Originium. She didn't know what kind it was. She'd shown it to the old craftsman before, but he couldn't identify it, let alone work it. If it was useless to her, maybe Felix could put it to use.

While working, Felix gave instructions to the young man beside him. There were no lofty lectures—just simple, repeated demonstrations with the tools, building skill through muscle memory.

As for payment, he didn't dwell on it. Accepting something in return was his way of treating them like any other trading partners. The same went for dealings with the infected: when things are free, they're rarely valued. Acting like a saint wasn't his style, and it wouldn't fit with what he planned to do on this land.

In truth, it was also a sign of respect. Treating the infected like ordinary people was, in his eyes, the greatest respect of all.

A few Shield Guards lingered to boast for a while, tested the weight of their newly repaired gear, and gave Felix a thumbs-up. They pulled out oddly shaped stones and fragments from their pockets—currency of sorts between infected settlements. Felix accepted it all without complaint, never once asking about value.

By late afternoon, he had deliberately slowed his pace. A quarter of the camp's equipment was repaired, and since he planned to stay a few more days, there was no rush.

"Here. For you."

A hand appeared in front of him as he tidied the workbench.

Looking up, Felix saw Frostnova's calm face. In her palm rested two candies.

"This one has a wine filling. Very rare. I really like it," Frostnova said softly. "Because of my oripathy, I can't eat anything too hot. This is the only way to keep warm."

Felix smiled. "You're giving it to me—what will you eat?"

"I still have some left." She turned her head slightly. "I can't watch over you tonight. There's an urgent reconnaissance mission. I need to head to the nearby town."

As she started to leave, Felix caught her wrist.

"…What is it?" Frostnova looked at him in surprise, then quickly pulled back as if burned. "You don't want to get infected, do you?"

"You can't catch it from touch," Felix said, for what felt like the hundredth time. But that wasn't the point. "What happened? I think I can help."

"You…"

She hesitated, remembering the strange flying machines she'd seen in the sky. Then she spoke: "A small team disappeared in nearby town. We suspect the patrol took them—either imprisoned or killed. We need to confirm whether they're alive."

"I see. Wait here."

He turned away. Frostnova frowned, wondering what he was up to—until she saw him put on his coat. The mechanical parts along his body came to life, glimmering faintly. Players who see him might remember a character from the game Splinter Cell, Sam Fisher, as his set up almost similar to him. He checked the Originium Skill bullets in his pistol, then looked back at her.

"If you don't mind, take me with you. I've been quiet for too long. I could use a little explosion to wake myself up."

"…"

"Come on—it's just the Laterano way," he said, feigning innocence.

Frostnova exhaled slowly and gave him a sideways glance. "If you want to join us as a fighter, you'll need proper concealed gear."

She led Felix to a military tent lined with hanging clothes and gear. Stepping up to the rack, Frostnova eyed his build, then pulled out a uniform as white as freshly fallen snow.

"This one's new… I'd planned it for the next recruit to the Yeti Squad, but it seems it suits you better."

Frostnova smiled. "It's only temporary, but—welcome to the Yeti Squad, Pioneer."