Ark Chess Player

The reporter in the yellow shirt suddenly relaxed considerably. He, in his early thirties, posed as an elder and earnestly lectured the group of young people who had nearly caused a major disaster: "You must understand that killing infected people in Lungmen is not illegal, because these people are not citizens of Lungmen; they can't even afford ID cards. But those you just killed were students of Lungmen University, the future pillars of this city, the future leaders of this city!"

"Now you realize how vicious your actions were, right? If you stop immediately, I can delete all the videos I just recorded, and I won't tell anyone else about this. If you need, I can be a witness for you."

The reporter in yellow patted his chest confidently and said, "I can pin the murder on the infected from the slums! That way, the Guard Bureau won't investigate the Lungmen students you just mistakenly killed. I'm experienced in this kind of thing, trust me. I've already framed these infected as villains who attacked Lungmen citizens, so others won't feel guilty killing them, and no one will feel burdened. What do you think?"

The reporter in the yellow shirt's excited voice gradually faded as the people around him remained silent.

Was my suggestion not appealing enough?

Or is it that... these people are mentally challenged and can't understand what I'm saying?

The reporter in yellow gritted his teeth and revealed his trump card: "If this still doesn't satisfy you, you might as well join us! Whether you're male, female, young, or old, as long as you're infected, as long as you kill one infected person, I'll take you to Boss Huang to demand a reward of three thousand LMD. I'll also add an extra one thousand LMD for you! How about that? One infected person's life can be exchanged for four thousand LMD. You wouldn't get that much money even if you sold them normally! Even if you gave the infected people's organs to the black market merchants, they wouldn't want them. Opportunities to make money like this are rare!"

The reporter in the yellow shirt adopted a "you've made a profit, I've lost out" attitude.

Even when he was in danger, he was still thinking about how to make money.

If he could get these Lungmen citizens, who were playing the role of Infected members of the Reunion Movement, to slaughter Infected people in the slums, he would get the best! The most popular! The hottest news material! He would only need to write one more report, describing the conflicts between Infected people, adding some embellishments, and he could earn well more than 30,000 Lungmen Dollars! If he became famous and popular because of this, and was noticed by a newspaper in the Colombian Federation, he would never have to worry about his future again, and would directly reach the pinnacle!

What? You talk about journalistic spirit? Upholding fairness and impartiality, seeking truth from facts, and publishing facts? My lord, times have changed! This is the era of Western newspapers, the era of entertainment to the death, the era of maximizing profits through the ignorance of the masses! For the Federation of Colombia, what is the media? The media is a tool, a mouthpiece for powerful figures, and an authority to change the world.

Moreover, the reporter in yellow had bought his press pass; he paid 500 Lungmen dollars to get it done. Before that, he had never received any proper training, had never been to school, and had no idea what morality or shame were.

Even if he had studied, it wouldn't have mattered. Look at the rows of corpses of Lungmen university students on the ground; these people are the best negative example. These students only knew how to study, and with the slightest encouragement or temptation, they immediately transformed into armed violent elements. They had no independent thought whatsoever, were used as pawns without even realizing it, and genuinely believed they were defending Lungmen's rights. In reality, they were merely disrupting Lungmen's peace, pushing the city into an abyss, and disrupting the market economy.

Do you really think the Lungmen Guard Bureau won't react to this?

So what if the Lungmen freshmen bribed the judge? So what if they had a lot of money? All the students who participated in the hunt will be recorded in the Guard Bureau's files, and this stain will linger, affecting three generations of their families. Is it worth sacrificing their entire lives for a mere three thousand Lungmen dollars for a moment of pleasure?

Of course, the reporter in yellow, who saw through everything, wouldn't tell these college students the truth.

What's the point of saying anything? No matter how much you talk to a cockroach, will it understand human speech?

They might as well take advantage of cockroaches' disgusting nature and make a quick buck.

Just as the reporter in yellow was thinking about how to write two distorted reports tonight, the person in front of him silently removed the gray-white mask he was wearing.

"You've thought it through? That's more like it! Go against anything, just don't go against money! Ah, it's okay, you don't need to take off your costumes! You can just go hunting infected in your costumes, that's pretty good, isn't it?"

The reporter in yellow instinctively wanted to stop these people from changing their clothes; there were quite a few people who were so well-prepared with costumes and props for role-playing. If they took off their costumes, the reporter's article, "Shocking! Infected Slaughter Infected! Is this a new symptom caused by Oripathy mutation, a distortion of humanity, or a moral decay?!" would be stillborn.

However, when the reporter in the yellow shirt saw the man's face after he took off his mask, all his words were swallowed back down his throat.

"You, you are...infected!?"

The reporter in the yellow shirt retreated repeatedly, feeling a cold, hard touch on his back, and instinctively pressed himself tightly against the stone wall.

He had seen the black mineral crystals countless times today, and had photographed them countless times with his camera. But all the minerals he had ever seen in his entire life combined did not compare to what he had just seen, nor did they have the same impact on him.

These people are not playing the role of Lungmen citizens of the Reunion Movement, but rather the infected individuals of the Reunion Movement themselves.

The leader's face was half covered by black crystals, and his remaining eye was fixed on the reporter in yellow. His eyes were filled with thunderous rage, and countless angers burned in his heart, almost making his blood boil.

The amount of information contained in the reporter in yellow was far beyond the expectations of the Reunion soldiers. Some of them had even naively thought that Lungmen was the most tolerant city for infected people in the world when they came from Ursus.

The results of it?

And the result?!

Hunting infected people is not a crime!

There's a reward for hunting down infected!

Hunting infected individuals is a meritorious act!

What the hell kind of world is this?!

"You, you guys... Impossible, impossible, absolutely impossible." The reporter in yellow seemed unable to accept reality. He was truly afraid now, his mind went blank, and all his previous crooked thoughts and bad ideas vanished.

"How could you infected possibly have broken into Lungmen?! What are those tax thieves in the Guard Bureau doing?!"

The reporter in yellow wanted to run, but he had nowhere to go, his eyes frantically scanning his surroundings. His gaze inadvertently caught a glimpse of an infected person flashing by in a distant corner, and a surge of anger welled up inside him, revealing his cowardly and bullying nature.

"I get it! It must have been those bastards from the slums who brought you in! I knew it, I knew it! I—"

The reporter in the yellow shirt's heart-wrenching screams were forcibly interrupted. His vision suddenly became very, very high, and in his last moments of consciousness, he could still see his own body.

His head leaped up along the gushing blood stream before finally landing on the ground.

The headless corpse swayed, and the camera, which had been working continuously, fell from its limp hand. After rolling several times, the lens unconsciously focused on the yellow-clad reporter's head, taking a close-up of his almost bulging, blood-red eyes.

Do not look down.

Chapter 277 A Battlefield of Bloodshed, How Wonderful! (4K)

"You all heard that, didn't you?"

"It is a deep voice," said the leader of the Integrated Movement team.

"The people of Lungmen take pleasure in slaughtering our compatriots, using every dirty trick in the book to slander us, spread rumors about us, and persecute us!" He raised his blood-stained Ursus-issue longsword high and roared, "Are we going to tolerate them again and again?!"

"Absolutely not!" the other Reunion soldiers responded.

"Are we to be like livestock, too afraid to resist, and allowed to be slaughtered at our mercy?!"

"Absolutely not!!" This time, their voices were mingled with the quiet echoes of slum dwellers hiding in the shadows.

"We are infected, we are the integration movement, we are taking action."

The leader put the pale white mask back on his face, and from the mask's dark eye sockets emerged a single, blood-red eye. He brought down the long sword he was holding, shattering the camera on the ground, the broken lens splitting in two.

"Fellow countrymen, follow me! Let the people of Lungmen know we're here," the leader said coldly. "We will repay them a hundredfold for the crimes they've committed against us!"

"An eye for an eye! A hundredfold retribution!!"

The leader commanded a large following, and before anyone knew it, the eyes of the infected slum dwellers hiding in the shadows were fixed on them.

The infected people still had tear stains on their faces. Their resentment and despair made them grit their teeth and dare not utter a sound. They could only watch helplessly as the old woman was killed.

But it is different now.

It's as if a guide is leading these lost sheep to a new place, perhaps heaven, perhaps hell.

If Lungmen is hell, then why not choose another hell?

"Gouge out the eyes of these corpses."

The leader said calmly, taking out a black container wrapped in black cloth, so that its contents could not be seen from the outside.

"Lord Mephisto gave us two orders: to collect a thousand eyeballs and to find an Ursus infected named 'Misha'." The leader lifted the black cloth covering the container, and an indescribable stench wafted out, but it did not disgust people. Instead, it made them involuntarily sink into it and fix their gaze on the dark, semi-solidified substance.

He suddenly looked up, not daring to look any further, fearing that his only remaining eyeball would involuntarily be gouged out and put back in.

“Captain Lester, there are twenty-two eyeballs here, all from Lungmen.” Soon, the Reunion soldiers gouged out the eyes of the Lungmen university student who had been alive not long ago. The man hesitated for a moment and added, “I didn’t gouge out the old woman’s eyes. She’s seen too much filth in her life. Let her close her eyes forever.”

"Yes, you did the right thing."

Lester did not punish him, because his orders were only directed at these Lungmen people.

Lester took the bloody eyeball from his subordinate. No matter how many eyeballs he put into the container, the cup seemed never to be full. Perhaps it would only change when a thousand eyeballs were placed inside?

"Our brothers on the outer ring of Longmen probably won't be able to hold on for much longer. Everyone, we absolutely cannot let them down."

Lester waved his hand and immediately headed toward a seemingly inconspicuous general store in the center of the slums, based on the information he currently had.

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.

“Amiya, the reconnaissance team did their best. Our people stopped the Lungmen freshmen from attacking the infected time and time again, but their capabilities are limited. We can't protect all the residents of the slum. The terrain here is too complicated, making immediate support impossible. By the time the information is shared, the journey alone takes a lot of time, and by the time we arrive, it's too late.”

Razer reported to Amiya that she was now in charge of information transmission for the entire Rhodes Island group.

I don't know why there is such strong signal jamming in the center of the slums. If it weren't for Razer's built-in radar (referring to the horns on her head) and her Originium Arts being able to neutralize the special magnetic field around her, even battlefield communication devices would be useless.

"...Let's do our best, without expecting anything in return, just to have peace of mind."

Amiya tried hard not to show her distress, but her complexion was indeed not good.

This operation was fraught with uncertainty. What started as a simple task to find unregistered infected individuals unexpectedly became so complex. If the location weren't in the slums, it wouldn't even be considered a mission; it would just be routine work.

In a small slum, a new group of over a hundred Lungmen members had emerged, compounded by a mole within the Lungmen Guard Bureau. First, they severed ties between Rhodes Island and the Guard Bureau, and then they launched a direct attack on Amiya and her group in the slums.

Besides, there are unknown Lungmen forces targeting Rhodes Island, even sending people to launch a strong attack on the Rhodes Island Pharmaceutical Building... Someone even wants to rob that dilapidated building, isn't Lungmen a bit too pathetic? Pathetic, very damn pathetic.

"Amiya, this is Dr. Kal'tsit on the phone."

A bluish-white spark appeared from Razer's horn as she handed a backpack-sized communication device to Amiya.

About half an hour ago, Amiya tried calling Dr. Kal'tsit to tell her about the Doctor's whereabouts, but she couldn't get through again. Perhaps it's because Dr. Kal'tsit is preparing fortifications?

Amiya thought for a moment, then stopped contacting them and focused all her attention on the slums.

The current situation makes it impossible to continue searching for unregistered infected individuals. Under the hunting operations of the Lungmen Newcomer Group, almost all the infected individuals have tried every means to hide.

Amiya keenly sensed that if she continued the search forcefully at this point, it would lead to two possible outcomes.

Either the infected people they find will be killed by them, or they will directly confront these Lungmen citizens.

Either option leads to a bad ending, so I might as well slack off.

That's what they say, but in reality, Amiya has already completed the second task assigned by Superintendent Chen—finding a Ursus girl named Misha.

The white-haired Ursus beauty Misha is currently feeding the awakened Ansor medicine. Ansor's injuries have been largely healed after treatment by the Rhodes Island medical team, and now he just needs to rest and focus on healing.

However, Amiya hesitated about whether to hand Misha over to the Guard Bureau.

Amiya no longer trusts the current Guard Bureau.

The more Amiya learned about Misha, the more she felt something was wrong.

Although Misha possessed exceptional talent in Originium Arts, she had never committed any wrongdoing. Since arriving in the city with the Chernobog refugees, she had remained in the slums, refusing to venture elsewhere. It was precisely because of this that the conman was met with strange looks from everyone upon entering.

A single middle-aged man lured a young underage girl, preventing her from going too far and providing her with food and lodging.

For example, let's mention a few keywords: Arknights, imprisonment, loli, storyline, white-haired beauty, shorts.

I understand everything I understand.

Who would believe he doesn't have some wicked thoughts?

Surrounded by people, the conman was on pins and needles. He sought Misha's help to explain, but Misha was seen as a victim by the Rhodes Island community, so her words naturally lacked credibility. The conman then turned to an outsider, asking the Kingslayer to prove his character, only to be given a "good guy" card by the Kingslayer. In gaining temporary trust, the conman also lost something...

"Dr. Kal'tsit, it's me, Amiya!"

Amiya answered the phone, asking anxiously, "How are you? Are you alright?"

Although Amiya was unsure of the enemy's numbers and strength, she was quite confident in the current defensive capabilities of the Rhodes Island Pharmaceutical Building. She didn't know if the elite operators could arrive in time, and if the enemy breached the building before the operators reached the scene... based on Amiya's understanding of Dr. Kal'tsit, she was certain that Kal'tsit would overuse the drugs and force a fight.