Arknights: I became an NPC in the online game

For the players, their current task was simple: get familiar with Lungmen.

The Laterano squad that arrived with Felix was doing the same. Of course, they hadn't forgotten their true duties. Every day, as they delivered messages across the city streets, they also discreetly gathered information—intel meant for the Notarial Hall.

This was something Felix and Ers made tacit agreement on before parting ways. Felix needed Laterano's support. But he also needed trusted locals from Terra itself to help lay the foundation for his company.

Degenbrecher's role was straightforward: instructor. Her job was to train Tomorrow's Development's mercenaries. At present, that meant the two hundred-plus players officially registered as "mercs." But she couldn't exactly teach them the way she'd train real Terrans; instead, her focus was tilted more toward the Terra natives.

That said, players could apply to spar with Degenbrecher—one-on-one, this time—by paying in either contribution points or cash. Many pro-players jumped at the chance, eager to test their solo combat skills. Degenbrecher never turned anyone down. Unlike the brutal, one-sided slaughter she'd dealt out during recruitment, in these training bouts she deliberately adjusted her strength, matching each adventurer's physical ability. It was more like "feeding moves" than outright dueling.

Even so, the players got thrashed. Badly. Some came away doubting their entire existence. Even Degenbrecher holding back felt like a mountain pressing down on them. Swinging at her was like a child flailing a wooden stick at an adult—utterly hopeless.

Among them, Dandao Dantart were still the most diligent. He has already been beaten black and blue by Degenbrecher during their travels with the Pioneer; another round or two of humiliation didn't faze him.

Within the Pioneer's squad, Plume took charge of internal security—or more accurately, she became Tomorrow's Development's "Head of Security and Defense Department." Compared to someone like Saria, Plume's strength was modest, but Tomorrow's Development was still just a small-to-mid enterprise. There wasn't all that much to protect.

Patia handled liaison and external relations. In game terms, "diplomat" fit her current role. Or, if one borrowed from Rhine Lab's organizational model, she was essentially filling Yara's shoes. Of course, she was still young, and had a long way to go before she could be as composed and capable as Yara.

Spuria joined the research department. For now, it had fewer than ten members, and much of the lab equipment hadn't even been shipped in yet. Her days alternated between field assignments and tinkering with her drones in the lab. Felix had even entrusted her with the prototype drone schematics, urging her to dissect and improve them—pushing her mechanical skills to the next level.

Mostima and the Chosen Overseer spent their time wandering Lungmen's streets. Neither showed much concern for the Notarial Hall's assignments anymore. At this point, they were only doing the bare minimum of courier work. Since leaving Andoain's squad, they were fundamentally aligned with Felix, working for him rather than anyone else.

As for the upcoming trip to Kjerag—it wasn't some impulse.

Kjerag lay far to the north, buried under snow year-round. It had neither too many nor too few starting players. But over time, most drifted away. The reason was obvious: it was too monotonous, too boring. The highest-paying tasks were feeding pack animals, shoveling snow, and fishing. Relaxing, maybe—but after a few players literally fell asleep mid-fishing and got forcefully logged out, migration became a trend. Groups abandoned Kjerag in droves, heading to other nations in search of opportunity.

For the record, Ark Online worked like Sword Art Online in this regard—if you lay down and went to sleep, the system would detect it and safely log you out. But hardly anyone actually played that way.

The players' decision made sense to Felix. In some ways, Kjerag was the polar opposite of Kazdel. In Kjerag, tasks were so peaceful you could doze off mid-quest. In Kazdel, war never stopped—endless PvP every day.

This trip to Kjerag had a purpose: to lend a hand to an NPC he'd known in his previous life. A bit of support, a bit of involvement in their construction project. That was the plan.

But when it came to establishing a Tomorrow's Development branch in Kjerag… Felix honestly had no idea what business to run there. Tourism, maybe?

That would mean earning money from Terrans, though. Not from players. And that uncertainty gnawed at him.

At this point in time, however, Karlan Trade hadn't even been founded yet. As for SilverAsh—the operator players often mentioned as having a cooperation agreement with Rhodes Island Pharmaceutical—he didn't seem to be in Kjerag at all.

With that thought giving him a headache, Felix headed into a bar and found the Emperor. The bird was already drunk, and Felix decided to lay out his plan.

"You're going to Kjerag?" the Emperor slurred, blinking blearily at him. "There's nothing there. Too traditional. Not exactly fertile ground for Tomorrow's Development."

He gave his head a shaky wobble, then added, "The only thing worth mentioning is that tourism's been picking up lately. But aside from summer—when nobles go there to escape the heat—it's a dead market. Compared to tourism hubs like Siesta or Dossoles? Kjerag doesn't stand a chance."

"If you really want to push tourism, better try your luck in those two mobile cities instead."

Siesta… that could be an option. But Dossoles? Too murky for my taste. Felix exhaled slowly. Besides, tourism was still only a way to earn money from Terra's NPCs, not players. It wasn't sustainable.

Karlan Trade, on the other hand, was different. Their core business would be import and export. In the future, when Felix needed building materials, he could rely on them as a supplier. Kjerag had mountains, rivers, and forests—plenty of natural resources. Its construction materials and industrial exports were actually well-developed. That was worth considering.

"Well, if you've made up your mind," the Emperor muttered, flapping his wings half-heartedly, "then go. I'll handle Lungmen for now. Honestly, the work ethic of those adventurers you recruited… they've put me to shame. I underestimated you."

"There'll be more adventurers joining us in the future," Felix replied. "This is only the beginning."

The Emperor took another swig, not caring much for further discussion. He was busy in his own right and couldn't stay in Lungmen forever. Felix knew the truth—he still needed someone who could manage things while he was gone. He couldn't be everywhere at once.

With departure looming, Felix began packing. This trip wouldn't take long. Just business negotiations, nothing more. Afterward, it would be a matter of waiting for the world championship in real life to end—then version 2.0 of the game would launch.

"Boss, are you heading out?"

Degenbrecher stood before him, hands clasped behind her back.

Felix nodded, studying her. In his past life, Degenbrecher had been an employee of Karlan Trade, directly under SilverAsh. But this time, he had recruited her early. The story was already off-script. Whether Karlan Trade would form the same way as before was anyone's guess.

"I'm planning a trip to Kjerag," Felix explained. "There's a business deal I want to negotiate."

He paused, then asked, "Do you want to come with me?"

"Why not…?" Degenbrecher tilted her head, though she quickly sighed. "Actually, Lungmen still needs people here. With you gone, the workload will fall on Loughshinny and me. You do realize that, right?"

"…I'll give you both a raise," Felix offered weakly.

"It's not about the money." Degenbrecher shook her head, her golden eyes locking onto his. "Felix, you've never stopped moving forward. If we want to keep standing behind you, we can't allow ourselves to rest either."

"You're exaggerating," Felix said with a half-smile. "There's a time to enjoy life too, you know."

His gaze flicked over her. "The adventurers are busy running logistics jobs around Lungmen right now anyway. Come with me to Kjerag."

Degenbrecher made a small noise of agreement. "What about Miss Mostima?"

"Bring her."

Which meant the Fiammetta would come too. That made four of them. Felix didn't expect to "recruit" any new NPCs this time. The most famous and popular Kjerag NPC—Degenbrecher herself—was already with him. There probably wasn't anyone else to pull into his orbit.

As much as he'd like to drag SilverAsh into the fold, that wasn't realistic. The man was chairman of Karlan Trade. Cooperation was the best Felix could hope for.

Currently, his own liquid funds amounted to just over ten million. The military's prototype drone contract had earned him a hefty payout in Columbian currency. Most of it had gone into Tomorrow's Development's accounts, but he still kept some tucked away as personal savings.

While Degenbrecher went off to prepare her luggage, Felix sent a message through his terminal to Mostima. The moment she heard she was coming along, she replied instantly—with a cheerful smiley face.

In the final few days before departure, Felix finally picked up his hammer and tools again. He repaired worn-down equipment and, in the process, kept rolling for blueprints.

But without access to the more advanced materials, his progress as a Machinist stalled. The limitation nagged at his perfectionism. At least Lungmen offered one advantage—the black market. There, he could always find mechanical parts or even ready-made blueprints. If push came to shove, he could just buy what he needed.

---

"Someone's in a good mood."

The Chosen Overseer, Fiammetta, raised an eyebrow when she walked into their rented flat and saw Mostima humming to herself while packing a suitcase.

"Going on vacation," Mostima replied lightly.

"…We just got through New Year's, and you're already planning another trip?" Fiammetta muttered. She couldn't follow Mostima's train of thought.

"Fiammetta, are you a workaholic? Or do you just hate holidays?"

Mostima poked her cheek. Fiammetta puffed her face up in annoyance. "You're hiding something from me, aren't you?"

"Felix invited me to Kjerag for business. I'm going. Which means you're coming too."

"…"

Fiammetta let out a long sigh. Ever since the Notarial Hall elders saddled her with the title of Chosen Overseer, she had known what it meant: stick to Mostima's side at all times, helping her—and keeping constant watch over the state of the Lock and Key.

If Mostima was going to Kjerag, then so was she. Like it or not, she had become Mostima's shadow. Where Mostima went, she followed.

It restricted her freedom, but strangely, Fiammetta didn't hate the feeling. What frustrated her far more was still not knowing what had really happened in that cave.

Why? Why was it that whether she asked Felix, Lemuen, or Mostima herself, they only exchanged silent glances instead of answering her? It made her furious—especially as someone who couldn't even feel what they felt.

Of course, there had been others in the cave that day. Plume, for example, but she'd passed out early and remembered nothing. Fiammetta had even questioned Federico. His answer had practically given her internal injuries: "I didn't feel anything. Then I fainted."

Still, she reminded herself—before leaving Laterano, she had already decided to accompany Mostima across Terra. And next year, Lemuen would be joining them. When Andoain's team reunited without Andoain himself… what kind of scene would that be?

---

Felix's departure didn't stir up any fuss among players. With a faction panel at his disposal, he could remotely direct its development anytime, anywhere. He also kept tabs on player posts from Dreamchaser and Magic ZX, who were documenting their part-time grind in Tomorrow's Development. Through them, Felix stayed updated on the first-hand flow of information.

Whenever players lacked something, he provided it.

Weapons and equipment sold well, but the hottest items by far were profession manuals. At this stage, even new players had managed to secure their first step toward a main profession. Main-class manuals weren't too hard to get. But subclass manuals? Those were different—every one had its own convoluted unlock conditions. Some even required entire questlines.

Yet one glance at Felix's shop left players reeling. Craftsman, Blacksmith, Tailor, Goldsmith—all the production classes, neatly stocked. No wonder they called him the Father of Production. And among them, the crown jewel: the Machinist manual, coveted by every crafting player.

Any player who'd seen Felix in combat knew how dazzling it was. A wave of his hand, and drones unleashed suppressive fire from every angle. The Machinist class instantly became an object of envy. So when production players saw the manual on sale, they didn't hesitate for a second.

That meant another healthy surge of experience income for Felix.

It wasn't by accident. He fully intended to gather production-focused players. In the future, there was no way he alone could craft massive structures with his own hands. When the time came, all he had to do was post a production task on the faction board. If fewer than eight thousand players responded, it'd still be close to ten thousand.

---

The weather turned colder as they set out. Lungmen's spring climate grew warmer, making the city more comfortable by the day. But as their path climbed higher in elevation, patches of unmelted snow appeared before them.

Kjerag was a land of scattered villages. Felix's truck crunched over thick layers of snow. There were roads, yes—but hardly any traffic. Wild pack beasts could be seen roaming by the roadside.

"Damn… talk about desolate."