Arknights: I became an NPC in the online game

By the time they got home, it was already past midnight. Muelsyse was clearly tipsy, her body leaning heavily against Felix. The faint sweetness of her scent was mixed with a trace of sweat, filling his senses.

He unlocked the door and flicked on the hallway light.

At this hour, the household was already asleep. Felix exchanged a quick word with Degenbrecher, and the others; none of them seemed too concerned. As for the younger girls—Senomi and Mandragora—they had gone to bed early after finishing their homework.

"Mm… Felix, I missed you so much…"

Muelsyse clung to his neck, her voice slurred with drunken whimpers. Her lips left faint marks along his throat.

"Alright, alright, we're home now, you—"

Felix let out a helpless sigh. In this state… what was he supposed to do?

But they couldn't just stand around in the entryway. Supporting her, he guided Muelsyse into the living room. He hadn't even turned on the lights when he noticed a faint halo hovering in the dark.

A bead of cold sweat rolled down his temple.

Click.

The lights came on, revealing a pair of blue eyes glinting with faint amusement.

"…At this hour, Mostima, you're still awake?"

"Mhm. I was a little worried about you. And I still haven't finished that report for the Tribunal, so I decided to put in some extra effort."

She chuckled lightly, but her gaze lingered on Muelsyse clinging to him. "So… what exactly is going on here?"

"Muelsyse's drunk."

"Is that so…? Somehow, I feel like I might have missed something."

Still, Mostima stepped forward, helping Felix ease Muelsyse onto the sofa. She let out a thoughtful hum. "I'll help her bathe in a bit."

"I was just wondering what to do… Thanks, Mostima."

"I don't want your thanks."

She took another step closer, pressing him back until his shoulders touched the wall. Even though she wasn't as tall as him, her blue eyes carried a weight of mockery… and just the faintest trace of jealousy.

Thud.

Her hand shot out, pinning him against the wall. The smile on her lips curved into something playful, while her azure tongue traced slowly across them.

Then, with a sharp tug on his tie, she yanked his head down toward her lips.

Her motions were forceful, heated. Mostima parted her mouth just enough to bite down hard on his collarbone.

"Hey—ow."

"This… is my jealousy."

Her tongue traced languidly over the fresh bite mark, soothing the sting she had just left. "Even I have emotions like this, you know… all because of you."

"Next time, I'll take you with me." Felix rested a hand on her head, his voice steady.

"Only two?" Mostima's breath was warm against his skin.

"Only two?" he echoed back.

The look on his face made her laugh despite herself. Sometimes he was stiff as a board, other times unexpectedly bold—that shifting contrast both amused her and stirred something else, a flicker of anticipation. She found herself wondering just what kinds of expressions he would show her in the future.

Finally, Mostima pulled her hand away. Lifting Muelsyse up once more, she carried her toward the bathroom to wash up.

"So this is the blessing of Kjeragandr's protection? Lucky buff my foot—I've only got one point in Luck."

Felix muttered to himself as he hauled his research materials upstairs, washed up, and went to bed.

The next morning, over breakfast, every time his eyes met Muelsyse's across the table, she would flush and quickly look away. Even the pace of her eating sped up noticeably. Finishing her meal in record time, she left for Rhine Lab without another word.

Mandragora pouted. "Weird… was breakfast not to Mumu's taste today?"

"Maybe she's just busy with work," Senomi answered sensibly.

Felix slid a napkin to Rafaela so she could wipe the sauce from the corner of her mouth, then lifted his gaze just long enough to meet Mostima's faint, lingering stare. He calmly went back to his meal.

He had a schedule lined up today—a visit to check out some aircraft. Credit where it was due, Carnelian's efficiency was impressive: she had already arranged a meeting with Raytheon Industries less than a day after the topic came up.

Degenbrecher, who rarely returned home, was planning to head to Rhine Lab to meet with Saria. The clash between those two iron-willed women promised to be thunderous. Even the very streets of Trimount might quake as though struck by an earthquake.

The four little ones went off to school. Avdotya made her way alone to the Trimount Library; she'd recently been reading scientific texts to broaden her knowledge. Felix was considering helping her enroll in a regular university to study literature, though he intended to consult her first.

For Mostima and Fiammetta, this was their first time in Trimount—and indeed in Columbia. Both were struck by the unique atmosphere of this immigrant and freedom nation. Their plan was to spend the coming days wandering the city, picking up bits of information to compile later into a report for the Tribunal.

"Master, I'm off!"

At the school gate, Senomi rose up on tiptoe to give Felix a big, warm hug. Her lips brushed his cheek in a quick, secretive kiss. When he didn't seem to notice, her heart raced, delight lifting her smile. She hurried into the schoolyard with Mandragora, who was pouting to herself, regretting not having given Felix a hug of her own.

The strange stares from the nearby parents made Felix's skin prickle with discomfort. Senomi… you're really killing me here.

"…Sigh. Let's go."

Life in Terra, he thought, was one long string of trials and embarrassments. Unable to bear the curious looks any longer, he turned away. Catching sight of Carnelian's amused grin, he clicked his tongue irritably.

Carnelian nudged him in the shoulder with a mischievous smile. "Senomi just misses you. Perfectly understandable, perfectly understandable."

"I know that. Talking about it is one thing, but in front of others it's a bit…"

He had always treated Senomi as family, never as a servant. Though the striped brand of her commodity code could never be erased from her shoulder, her heart had long since soared free across the land.

As for why she still called him Master, Felix had simply let her be. She was just a girl; maybe it was nothing more than words. Once she hit her rebellious phase, who knew how things would change… assuming she even had one. Judging by her obedient nature, maybe not.

They boarded an inner-city train that carried them toward the outskirts. The further they went, the fewer residential blocks there were, highways taking their place. Raytheon Industries stood out here.

Carnelian slipped naturally into the role of secretary. At the company gates, she exchanged a few words with the guide waiting for them. The man immediately stepped forward with a warm handshake for Felix.

Such warmth wasn't unusual in business, but Felix knew the truth: it had everything to do with his position as a director of Rhine Lab.

Rhine Lab and Raytheon Industries had a long history of business together. Rhine's equipment was often commissioned from Raytheon, making them frequent customers. Within Raytheon itself, there were also families on good terms with the Lates, so Felix's identity gave him considerable convenience.

This was his first time actually stepping into Raytheon's production facilities. The offices held nothing remarkable, but the assembly lines inside the factory caught his eye. Workers moved with speed and precision as they fitted components together, while supervisors made their rounds, inspecting progress.

In Felix's hands was a booklet—pages of civilian aircraft. As for gunships or anything of that scale, there was nothing of the sort. Raytheon would never sell military hardware to a private buyer, not unless it was part of an official defense contract.

"Please, allow me to show you both around our hangars."

Some models were for immediate sale; others could be custom-ordered at a premium. Felix wasn't in a rush, so he let the guide lead him and Carnelian through a tour.

Building a plane from scratch required master-level craftsmen and engineers. The schematics for vehicles like these only became available at the higher tiers of craftsmanship—far beyond what Felix could currently manage. For now, buying was his only option.

As he walked, he and Carnelian quietly rated what they saw. In his previous life, Felix had never owned a personal aircraft. He had the money, but no interest. Commercial ground vehicles were enough for his needs. Private planes required route planning, landing rights, and exorbitant hangar fees. For someone running his own business, it was nothing but loss.

During the Chernobog operation, though, he had seen Rhodes Island's transport aircraft up close. He remembered the model: wide, spacious, capable of carrying more than a hundred people at once. Rhodes had the advantage of a long deck to accommodate their takeoffs and landings.

Lungmen City did have an airport, but it wasn't open to the public.

Felix noted a few promising models and boarded one for an interior inspection.

Earning a flight license wouldn't be difficult for him. With his prodigy-like gift, all he needed was a little study—and with the system's interface, the process would be trivial.

Version 1.0 was nearing its end. It was time to make preparations.

But before purchasing a plane, he needed to strike a deal with the military—to line his coffers first.

When the tour was over, he and Carnelian split ways. Carnelian returned to the city to pick up the four children from school, while Felix headed alone into the lower districts. After stopping by two bars with no luck, he finally found the Tin Man in the third.

"Well, well. Busy man. What brings you to me?"

Tin Man wore the same careless air as always. Seeing Felix didn't stir much reaction—until his eyes landed on the prototype drone Felix had brought with him. His demeanor shifted instantly.

Bombs strapped to a drone, turning the entire craft into a caster's "staff" for attacks—these two modules together were outrageous. Tin Man straightened in his seat.

"I know the Maylander Foundation is interested too. Aside from the military, I'm only willing to negotiate this deal with you."

"Oh?"

Tin Man exhaled a cloud of smoke. "And why is that?"

"The Foundation is where I got the intel. We've worked together plenty of times. I don't mind deepening that relationship."

Felix narrowed his eyes. "Of course, this deal isn't just goodwill from Rhine Lab. It's also from me personally—and from Tomorrow's Development."

"…Tomorrow's Development?"

"A new company I've founded. Still in its startup phase."

"Staffed entirely with Undead, I assume."

Tin Man cut to the point, then let out a low, rasping laugh, smoky and magnetic. "The first time I saw you, I knew it. You'd never be content beneath anyone's heel. You've got an ambition most Sankta lack, burning and unyielding… A shame you weren't born one of us."

"You hate the Undead?"

"Hate, like—no. 'Indifference' suits me better."

Tin Man spoke with detached calm.

"Imagine this: the Sarkaz have endured a thousand years of suffering on Terra. They invaded neighboring nations, only to be crushed by a coalition and see their country destroyed. That hatred is eternal, unshakable… And yet, at such a time, a group emerges from the hidden lands—Sarkaz who know nothing of vengeance, who refuse to carry that burden, drifting through life chasing benefits, utterly indifferent to Kazdel's fate."

He narrowed his eyes. "Tell me—do you still consider those Sarkaz Undead to be Sarkaz at all?"

"They're still Terrans, aren't they?" Felix replied evenly.

Tin Man gave him a long, searching look. Then his lips curled into a mocking grin.

"If the Sarkaz heard you say that, they'd call you insane."

Still, his tone softened. "That said, I do think continued cooperation is a win for both sides. In you, I've seen a glimpse of something…"

He paused, squinting. "Have you run into anything unusual lately?"

"I made a trip to Kjerag," Felix said. "Came back with Kjeragandr's blessing."

Tin Man clicked his tongue. "Kjerag, huh… Strange. I sense the faintest trace of Sarkaz about you. Likely from some recent contact."

"Maybe." Felix shrugged.

Tin Man didn't press further. This eccentric Sarkaz-like Sankta was an oddity among oddities. Dealing with him made one forget his race altogether—something truly rare.

"So, what's the deal? Since you've opened a back door for us at the Maylander Foundation, I assume you want something in return."

Felix laid his cards on the table.

"Besides the transaction, I want a transport aircraft."

Tin Man's eyes widened. "You want a plane?"

"What else? Transporting goods is a pain."

Felix said it as if it were only natural. After getting a free building in Lungmen, now he aimed to get a free transport plane from the Maylander Foundation.

After all, if even the Foundation lacked funds, what other company in Columbia could possibly have any?

He pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to Tin Man. It listed several models.

"Pick any one from here. And make sure it's not second-hand."

"…"

Tin Man bit down on his cigarette and clicked his tongue.

"I'll have to check with headquarters. This isn't a decision I can make."

"Fine. I'm patient. I'll be staying in Trimount for a few more days. Contact me then."

Tin Man watched him leave, expression blank. When it came to business, the man's demeanor was less that of a negotiator—and more of a bandit.