The year 1092 arrived, but for Lungmen the change felt subtle. The city didn't suddenly transform—what grew was the number of merchants, startups, investors, and of course, players gathering inside its walls.
For merchants and entrepreneurs, the logic was simple: where the population concentrates, so does business. And with players roaming the streets, opportunity was everywhere. These adventurers weren't just curious outsiders; they had deep pockets and high purchasing power. As long as your product was unique or useful, they were often easier to trade with than the locals of Terra.
Naturally, more than one vendor saw the potential in tailoring their market toward adventurers. Lungmen's business system gradually adapted, openly welcoming these strange newcomers. Shopkeepers pulled out every trick to strike deals, while players, numbering in the thousands now, became a lively, paying customer base.
Equipment, however, was another story. Most players still wore the standardized Tomorrow's Development gear available from the faction shop—sleek in blacks, whites, and greys, almost futuristic in its minimalism. Many players loved the look, though a few who favored bright, gaudy colors grumbled about the lack of variety. But in terms of function and stats, the gear met every need.
After the Kazimierz expedition, Felix had added a new line to the shop: Tomorrow's Development Standard Gear, Type II. Inspired by the styles of Major knights and Armorless Union assassins, these were Level 38 sets—out of reach for most, but not all. A handful of professional players who had traveled to Kazimierz with Felix hit 38 and showcased the gear's power. Their demonstrations, along with posted stats, quickly went up on the community-made Arknights Wiki.
By then, the Kazimierz storyline was no secret. Major content creators—Magic ZX, Yang Yan XF, and others—collaborated to release videos pulling back the curtain. From multiple player perspectives, the series laid bare the tangled politics of the knight system and the K.G.C.C, while also capturing the murderous tension of that rainy night.
The two hundred players who had been there earned bragging rights forever. For everyone else? Jealousy burned hot. Damn it, we want to tag along with Felix too!
Meanwhile, back home, Felix locked himself away in his workshop. The Type II uniforms were his creation, the product of weeks of forging and refinement. He also pushed updates to drone modules, continuously upgrading Tomorrow's Development's arsenal.
As for his own development, Felix had no intention of shelving his Originium Arts or Lance skills. Instead, he wanted to channel them into a formal class system. If not a pure melee main class, then at least a melee-related subclass. Knight was the natural choice—balanced, with steady boosts across all five attributes. Not spectacular in one area, but solid in every way.
But Felix didn't want just "solid." He wanted rare, top-tier. Something sharper, better suited to him.
The Caster Knight subclass would have fit perfectly with his style, blending martial combat with Arts. But such rare subclasses weren't accessible until later—five-star advancing to six-star. He wasn't there yet.
So he made a decision. Before the year's story arc began, he would head to Iberia.
Among players, Iberia was one of the most active regions. It had the sea—though the Inquisition forbade anyone from approaching it. It had religion—though the church priests were rumored lunatics. And it had seafood—plenty of it, enough to make both Inquisitors and nuns frown in disapproval.
Felix remembered why Iberia had become so popular. First, the sea. In Ark or Arknights, oceans weren't serene or inviting; they were terrifying. In every version of the world, stepping too close to the water risked drawing out creatures from the depths: the Seaborn.
What were the Seaborn? Opinions differed. Some players thought they were mutated fish. Others claimed they were an intelligent species, speaking in languages humans simply couldn't comprehend. But whatever the truth, their behavior was simple: whenever they saw a human—Terran or player alike—their first response was always to attack.
In his past life, Felix had worked for the Inquisition for a while. He remembered clearly: delivering materials harvested from slain Seaborn earned contribution points and loyalty, which in turn unlocked gear. He'd fought many kinds of Seaborn and knew their quirks well.
No player could ever hope to take down a Seaborn alone. They almost never appeared in isolation—encounters usually meant swarms.
Obtaining this rare subclass was bound to be difficult. Felix let the blue flame in his palm fade, already knowing what came next: he would have to deal with the Inquisition. In his previous life, working under them as a player was no big deal. But this time, things were different. As Tomorrow's Development's leader, and as a Sankta moving openly in Iberia, his identity could complicate matters.
Still, before traveling, he had another priority—upgrading the gear of those closest to him.
His own loadout had already been reforged. After buying a batch of rare materials from the K.G.C.C, he had incorporated them into his own equipment. Since his Lance "Helena's Sorrow" was currently unusable, Felix had forged a new weapon: a proper Lance.
[荒神・改 – Aragami Kai]
Quality: Blue
Stats: ATK 145–165, Durability 550/550
Requirements: Any Class, STR 45, END 40
Bonus Ability: Sharpness — +2% Armor Penetration
Bonus Ability: Swiftness — +5% Agility Check
A solid piece, all things considered. Slinging the weapon across his back, Felix felt its weight settle him, grounding him with a quiet sense of security.
When he went to Iberia, he certainly couldn't make a spectacle of it—nothing like the all-out mobilization they had staged in Kazimierz. Still, there were Iberian players worth contacting.
Most of those players had ties to Iberia. Many had joined the Inquisition as early as Version 1.0, grinding missions there. By Version 2.0, switching factions to Tomorrow's Development required guts and commitment. Even so, around 50,000 players were still working for the Inquisition, scattered across Iberia—making it one of the more balanced player-recruiting powers.
Felix's own numbers had now reached 200,000 players. Managing such a colossal organization demanded far more manpower than ever before. The influx of players had also forced him to expand Terran staff positions, and he was already preparing to purchase another skyscraper as a new headquarters. That, however, was a matter for later.
He tested the feel of his new weapon one last time, then pushed the door open. Glancing toward the next room, he saw Spuria and Patia fresh from a mission, busy testing a prototype drone. Clearly, neither of them was suited to accompany him to Iberia. With that decided, Felix turned and made his way to the Messenger Division.
The name was literal: Messengers or couriers were vital to Tomorrow's Development. Whether for business negotiations or resource exchanges, nothing moved without them. In the half-year since its founding, Tomorrow's Development had already stretched its network of contracts across nearby territories. But in areas outside city signal zones—or within other nomadic cities—the only way to transmit information promptly was through Messengers.
This work was also open to players, though officially categorized under logistics by "the Emperor."
It was here that Felix found Mostima and the "Grave Knight."
Ah, right—Grave Knight was Fiammetta's new codename. On their last reporting trip to Laterano, the notary elders had learned about her journey to Kazimierz. Inspired by an old knight movie they'd been watching, they solemnly bestowed the new title. Grave Knight. Ridiculous, but official.
"I'm preparing to head to Iberia," Felix said plainly.
"So suddenly?" Mostima tilted her head—then in a blink appeared right in front of him, brushing her lips against his. Felix sighed. That familiar touch again. At this point, her ambushes had become habitual.
Stretching lazily, Mostima asked, "Iberia… is this business?"
"Somewhat." Felix dropped onto the sofa, glancing at Fiammetta as she polished her firearm. "I've got dealings with the Inquisition. And besides business, I've heard from other adventurers… that Andoain might be in Iberia."
Bang!
Mostima's eyes narrowed slightly, while Fiammetta nearly leapt from her seat.
"What did you just say!?"
"Calm down, Fia."
Felix had learned his lesson with Fiammetta—her relationship with him had shifted, and now as long as he avoided calling her by her codename, things stayed civil.
"…No. Sorry. I overreacted."
Fiammetta clenched her teeth lightly. "But what you said—are you certain?"
"It's only a rumor from adventurers. I can't vouch for the source. Iberia does have its share of Sankta, so misidentification isn't impossible."
"But it could be him. It could be Andoain."
Her voice was firm, each word sharpened by conviction. She had already speculated about which countries Andoain might have gone to. Iberia, being the closest to Laterano and hiding in plain sight, was her highest suspect.
"When do we leave?"
"Easy there, Fia-chan."
Mostima drifted to her side, reaching out to ruffle the feathers on her head, speaking gently. "We could always wait until Lemuen comes with us."
Felix blinked. "…you mean Lemuen is coming?"
"Oh? Getting excited already?" Mostima's smile turned playful as she glanced at Felix.
For some reason, a chill ran down his spine. He coughed twice to cover it. "No, it's just… are they really arriving so soon?"
"Mmm… according to Lemuel's schedule, she's not quite ready to graduate. But when we told them about our recent travels while reporting in Laterano, Lemuel threw a fit about leaving early."
"Honestly, I expected the seminary to put up a fight. But surprisingly, the headmaster approved almost immediately. They're even organizing a farewell ceremony for 'Student Lemuel, heading off to Lungmen'… or something like that."
Felix wiped cold sweat from his brow. A farewell? Really? With Lemuel gone, at least the church school might stop blowing up every other day… hopefully.
No—wait. The real problem was that he had completely forgotten to forge Lemuel's guardian firearm!
It wasn't intentional. Between Kazimierz and the K.G.C.C, he'd had no time to hammer steel. The task had slipped his mind entirely.
"When are they departing?"
"Hmm… probably already on the road. Why?"
"…No reason."
Felix rose, intent on returning to his workshop. More hammering, more forging—time was running out. "As for Lemuen, we'll see whether she joins us. And Lemuel-chan?"
"From the looks of it, she's planning to cling to her dear Brother Felix no matter what," Mostima teased. "We'll play it by ear. After all, besides accompanying you to Iberia for business…"
Her gaze flicked to the silent Fiammetta.
"…we also need to track Andoain's movements."
"True. That could be dangerous."
Felix shook his head. "All right then. I'll handle the immediate work. Once Lemuen and Lemuel arrive, we'll finalize our plans."
"Good~" Mostima chimed, smiling as if it were all a game.
After parting ways with the two women, Felix returned once more to his workshop. It had been a while since he last rolled the schematics, but now he unfurled them with renewed focus.
Lemuel. Exusiai. In his previous life, Felix had seen more than a few "works" about her, Kataokasan seems to really love her—but this time, the task at hand was anything but casual. For a Sankta, a guardian gun was a lifelong companion. Even if the commission was only ranked C-tier, he had no intention of treating it lightly.
Whether as a player or as a Sankta himself, Felix wanted to see that girl smile—because more than anyone else, her face was made for laughter.
"…Time to roll for a weapon."
Unfortunately, his "lucky charm"—Senomi, his little bundle of good fortune—had already gone back to Trimount to continue her studies. So who was he supposed to "borrow luck" from now?
Oh heavens, when did I even start believing in luck? Bah. Luck is for insects. Watch me turn this around.
[Congratulations! You obtained: Single-shot Handgun – V-5]
A dull white. Pure trash.
[Congratulations! You obtained: Single-shot Handgun – Screwdriver]
Tartar sauce! Green-tier junk?! If the next roll spits out another useless hunk of scrap, I swear I'll jam these blueprints right back into—
Focus, Felix. One more try.
He clasped his hands together. Kjeragandr, bless me. Guide my hand. Let this one succeed…
[Congratulations! You obtained: Revolver – Thornfang]
A golden gleam. A legendary drop.
Felix's jaw fell open. No way… praying to Kjeragandr actually worked? Could it be… the god himself just acknowledged me?
Glancing at the inscription—[Blessing of Kjeragandr]—he nodded solemnly. Perhaps… perhaps it was time to buy a proper statue of Kjeragandr. Offer incense. Pray daily.