Ark Chess Player

It may be just a few hours, or it may be several days.

The Sentinels' long battle came to an end, the blood moon dissipated, and the shadowy objects melted away in the sunlight.

It was at this time that a person emerged from the ancient ruins.

There was only one person.

That's all.

"Kill me."

The sentry pleaded with the man.

"...to survive."

That's what that person said.

Chapter 245 Survive

"I heard that the BOSS is back."

The sentry spoke slowly, breaking the silence between him and the conman.

The swindler picked up the cigarette pack and lifted it slightly. He instinctively wanted to smoke a second cigarette, but he stopped when his hand touched the cigarette butt.

The smell of just one cigarette was strong enough, permeating his clothes, hat, and skin; he didn't want to bother the children, even though they were already used to the stench unique to the slums, the faint smell of mud and urine.

The conman reluctantly put the half-smoked menthol cigarette back in his hand and replied, "You, a sentry, have better information than I, the intelligence chief. It seems everyone knows. Interested in transferring departments? Our intelligence team is highly skilled and has the best benefits in the entire team, plus special leave."

"...I was informed by the interim leader of the combat team."

The sentry toyed with the crude mask he had removed from the face of the infected in the white robe, his fingers gently tracing the patterns on it.

"She sent me to Lungmen to see how the BOSS is doing."

"Interim team leader?" The conman considered the term carefully, then shook his head. "She still won't admit that Sister Jing is no longer here—"

The conman's mutterings were abruptly cut off by a sharp chill.

He shivered, swallowed the rest of his words, and decided to change the subject.

"And what about you? Don't you want to see the BOSS? Let me tell you, the BOSS has become even more handsome since he came back! I just don't know if his white hair is dyed or what, but Team Leader Baihuang and Team Leader Chaoshan said it's good this way. I have to say, these two are truly worthy of being Yan people... even their tastes are the same."

The conman's rambling was interrupted when the sentry raised his hand to him, signaling that the conversation should end there.

"If I have the chance, I'll ask the boss."

The sentry gripped the military flag tightly, and heavy breathing came from beneath his gray visor, his chest heaving as he suppressed the emotions he had accumulated over the past three years.

"I want to ask him why... why he gave me such a cruel order."

—To survive.

For him, this was the most vicious curse.

The swindler put away the cigarette pack, put his hands in his pockets, and sighed.

"And isn't the BOSS the same?"

Those whose hearts and souls remained three years ago and had not yet returned were not just sentinels.

The sentry fell silent. He had also heard about the BOSS's amnesia, in addition to what the conman had just said.

"Where is the BOSS?" he asked.

"Does the boss need to report to his subordinates when he goes out?" the conman chuckled, but he knew this kid was no longer the one who could joke around, so he said seriously, "The boss has a very important matter to deal with, but as for what it is, I am not qualified to know."

"……Thanks."

The sentry nodded and tossed the mask over.

The conman took it with one hand. He was initially thinking that there was nothing interesting about the Reunion Movement mask, but his smile disappeared after he ran his fingers over the patterns on it.

"This is--"

Consider it a gift for our reunion.

The sentry turned and strode into the depths of the slums.

He paused, then looked up, his gray mask gleaming with a green light.

"These infected individuals are not members of the Reunion Movement."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Longmen Slum, Army Without Borders Safe House.

Amiya stared wide-eyed at Misha in front of her.

White hair! Ursusian! 1.45 meters tall! Beautiful girl!

"Excuse me... are you Miss Misha?"

Amiya asked cautiously, having recently received instructions from Commander Chen to focus the search on this person. She then followed the Kingslayer to the safe house, where she saw Misha, her face filled with heartache, guiding the children into the room.

Amiya's little head showed a big question mark.

After Misha settled the crying children, she stood in front of them and cautiously asked, "Who are you?"

"Please rest assured, we mean no harm. Miss Misha, let me introduce you. These are my colleagues, Miss Franka and Miss Razer."

Amiya pointed to the two people wrestling behind her.

"You're being all over the place! All I did was tie a bow on your head! Is it really that big of a deal?!"

"You, you—it's one thing for you to tie a bow, but you also—"

Razer blushed; she wanted to curse, but couldn't bring herself to say it given the current situation.

She felt her tail was wet, and the base of it ached as if it had been ravaged dozens of times—in fact, Franka had gotten carried away while binding it, and she was thoroughly playing with Thor's tail, exploring it to its fullest extent. The friction even generated heat, and crackling sparks flew everywhere.

"Hehe~" Franka chuckled mischievously. She knew that a straightforward kid like Razer would never reveal the truth in front of many people. For some reason, this feeling made Franka quite happy. It seemed that she could have more ways to play with Razer in the future.

Her gaze lingered on Razer's black pleated skirt.

Why don't we just take off her panties next time?

The thought of Razer recovering from extreme exhaustion only to find himself naked, too embarrassed to say anything in front of others, and forced to silently endure it... Franka's eyes suddenly lit up. The image of Razer, filled with shame and anger yet unable to speak out, naturally appeared in her mind, and her slightly agitated mood instantly brightened.

She felt a sense of mission.

This is not a question of whether or not to take action.

This is a question of when to do it and to what extent.

"What kind of wicked scheme are you plotting now?"

Razer raised an eyebrow, its arrow-shaped tail, with a pink bow tied to the end, swaying slightly.

"It's nothing~"

Franka smiled mischievously and turned to greet Misha: "Hello, I'm Franka."

"...Good afternoon." Razer sighed softly, turned around, and nodded politely.

Misha watched them warily until one of the children came over and told her what had happened.

"These older sisters are good people. They saved Sister An Suo and even applied medicine to us..." the girl said timidly, stretching out her arm for Misha to see. Her tender skin, which had been chafed from being dragged along by the young people of Longmen, was now wrapped in bandages.

Misha then nodded slightly to them, her expression softening considerably.

"Thank you for saving these children."

Amiya smiled slightly and waved her hand: "You're welcome. We are Rhodes Island Pharmaceuticals. As an organization that serves the Infected, this is what we should do. I also want to thank you for taking care of the Doctor these past two days, and for your meticulous care of our employees."

"Doctor..." Misha repeated several times before whispering, "BOSS?"

"—!?"

Amiya's heart skipped a beat; she hadn't heard anyone address the Doctor like that in a long time!

Just as Amiya was about to ask more questions about this, a familiar figure burst into the safe house.

"Amiya, the interrogation results are in!"

Doberman hurriedly found Amiya.

After interrogating Charlot and other members of the Guard, she learned important information.

Dobermann shouted, "They have another team attacking the Rhodes Island Pharmaceutical Building where Dr. Kal'tsit is located!"

Chapter 246 Death Squad

Outer ring road of Longmen, Rhode Island Pharmaceuticals Building.

Not far from the Rhode Island Pharmaceuticals building, an unremarkable old truck was parked on the side of the road.

The truck looks unremarkable from the outside, but the interior is a completely different story.

Sophisticated instruments surrounded the space, their pale blue fluorescence refracting in the spacious room. The cooling and ventilation systems were running at full capacity, yet the room remained remarkably quiet. Even the sound insulation and vibration damping were exceptional; even if multiple people were working inside, or someone were smoking by the truck, no one would feel any change inside.

The interior of the truck was divided into two areas: those skilled in logistics were in charge of operating countless complex machines, while those adept at hunting operations sat with their eyes closed, resting near the rear of the truck.

“We’ve lost contact with Challout’s team for over twenty minutes. We can’t wait any longer.”

"...Wait a little longer, wait a little longer."

Ug, the logistics member in charge of controlling the equipment, frowned and gave a casual reply, but did not neglect his delicate work.

The screen, glowing with a faint light, flickered with complex code. Ugg felt a headache coming on; he felt his opponent had suddenly transformed from a primary school student into a post-doctoral researcher. Ever since he intercepted a call from Rhodes Island, the Guard Bureau's system had become increasingly difficult to crack.

Even with his black card, which granted him access to high-ranking insiders, he couldn't browse the Guard Bureau's files as easily as before. What used to be as effortless as shopping in a supermarket now felt like placing a basket overflowing with victories on a checkout counter, swiping his black card at the POS machine, only to be politely informed that the card was frozen.

Not only that, even the communicators of the Charlot team malfunctioned, and Ug's computer screen even lost their coordinate signal!

At first, Ug thought it was because there was no signal in such a squalid place as the slums, but then he suddenly remembered that, according to the Guard Bureau's data, Lungmen had already connected all the base stations and power lines to every part of the slums. This money wasn't even coming from the Lungmen administration, but from those scoundrels who were hiding in the slums making money.

Information has always been one of the most valuable things.

Those who control information wield power over the world.

Everyone in a high position wishes they could be knowledgeable about everything from astronomy to geography, and understand all aspects of human life and interesting anecdotes.

In order to make money better, faster, and more conveniently, even in slums, people will create a world of the internet.