Ark Chess Player

I never expected to make a mistake with him, which almost implicated my comrade.

Everyone else is doing well, so why am I the one who's messing up?

Is this defensive toy any good?

The Sarkaz sniper silently grumbled, hoisting his Dragonslayer rifle and aiming it at the Bone Raider, but a strange sense of unease crept over him. It was like a discordant note in a choir, someone deliberately disrupting the performance.

The Sarkaz sniper instinctively lowered his crossbow, glanced around, and straightened his back.

At this very moment, rows of defensive devices were aimed directly at him, their dark launch ports resembling black holes.

Crimson flames rose from the cave entrance, continuously gathering Originium energy, causing the cannon barrel to heat up.

The next moment, a deafening roar resounded through the sky, and fireworks soared high into the heavens.

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.

The Wall of Mary defense network, command center.

"You brat, you dare to play me? You're asking for it!"

"I'm furious," Zhao Zhenglei, the captain of the White Tiger Squad of the Lungmen Special Forces, roared. He rubbed his cheek, which was bleeding from the shattered visor, took off his helmet and placed it on the table, then took a deep breath. After a moment of preparation, he puffed out his cheeks and spat blood mixed with broken teeth onto Alexander Swell, then swaggered into the chair in the command room.

Zhao Zhenglei looked down at the brat who dared to defy him, thinking, "He's got a death wish." Just an idle senior superintendent, yet he dares to act like a bully. Zhao Zhenglei had initially been kind enough to give Swell a chance, but this brat was ungrateful. Just as he was about to take control of the city's security equipment… he dared to attack! Didn't he even consider who these people were under?!

Without military orders, how dare a mere senior police superintendent act so important?

Zhao Zhenglei crossed his legs, a mocking look on his face.

"Now you know who's in charge, right?"

"..."

Alexander Swell lay in a pool of blood, the blood seeping from his Guard Bureau overcoat from the inside out.

The three special forces members of the White Tiger Squad surrounded him, one of whom was holding a single-handed gun with smoke still rising from the muzzle.

When Zhao Zhenglei asked Swell if he had any military orders, Swell immediately sensed that something was wrong.

He first used his skillful acting to pretend to agree to the other party's request, but at the most critical moment, Swell punched Zhao Zhenglei in the face, regaining control of the city's defensive facilities.

If Swell hadn't intervened in time, those four restraint bullets wouldn't have hit the Bone Raiders.

However, Swail's struggle came to an end.

The secret of Lungmen Guard Bureau: When facing the enemy, I am meek and submissive; when facing allies, I strike with full force!

Even though they suffered repeated defeats against other forces, the White Tiger Squad was, after all, a special forces unit, trained in rigorous tactics. When Commander Zhao Zhenglei was attacked, these special forces members showed no mercy, engaging Swell in a direct firefight. Swell initially managed to hold his own, until one of the officers drew his Ashina sword, raised his gun, and fired below Zhao's chest.

Swell, instantly incapacitated by gunfire, experienced a surge of adrenaline, causing his brain to race. Everything around him slowed down, his senses became heightened, and information flooded his mind from all directions.

For years, Sverdlov had lived in an extremely oppressive environment, constantly on guard against the machinations of his grandfather, Alexander Sodan, and his half-brother, Alexander Anlondor. To survive, Sverdlov had devised countless methods and learned numerous ways to save himself. At this moment, a voice echoed in Sverdlov's mind—the voice of the person he trusted most.

A figure appeared in front of Swell. The figure was unfamiliar, but there was an inexplicable sense of familiarity about it.

To Swail's surprise, this man knew him intimately, as if he had lived inside Swail's brain, effortlessly accessing the knowledge stored within it. Using his abilities, he helped Swail analyze the most effective way to save his life.

"Longmen Survival Rules"

Chapter Nine, Section Twenty-Four, Firearms.

When shot by a gun, if the bullet penetrates the body armor, the outcome depends on whether the bullet penetrates the body along with the person, determining whether the person falls face-first or back-first.

This is a small detail, but it could determine whether Swail would die from excessive blood loss.

The figure pointed to the spot where Swell was standing, his back to the command center's large screen. When he was shot, Swell didn't hear the sound of the bullet piercing his body and shattering the screen, thus concluding that the bullet was still lodged in his body.

The bullet is now like a stopper; the bullet itself blocks the wound and stops most of the bleeding, but any pressure or impact at the wound site will cause it to shift.

Landing on your back not only prevents bullets from escaping but also reduces blood loss due to gravity. Even if the effect isn't significant, receiving even a little help in such a life-threatening situation greatly increases the chances of survival.

Therefore, there is only one answer.

Now, immediately, backwards.

As if a powerful will to survive had materialized, a humanoid figure pressed down on Swell's cheek, pushing him backward without warning. In that brief instant, his mind was engaged in a dramatic exchange, each side analyzing the rules of survival.

Swail has temporarily avoided dying from excessive bleeding, but the real test is fast approaching.

The kinetic energy of the bullet lodged in his body also remained between his internal organs, causing significant damage. This not only further shortened his survival time but also transmitted excruciating pain to his brain.

Swell needed to find something to calm himself down, or he would die of shock from terror. But he was just an ordinary person with limited talent, not some legendary warrior, and in terms of martial arts, even ten of him couldn't defeat Chen Huijie. He would feel pain, he would feel fear, like being trapped in a swamp, the more he struggled, the easier it was for him to sink.

"..."

Surprisingly, Swail lay on the ground, his body remarkably relaxed. He didn't writhe in agony, nor did he misjudge the bullet as it lodged in his internal organs; he was even able to think.

Because Swail discovered that he had actually found something that could calm him down.

Or rather, the moment he was shot, the very thing that allowed him to calmly analyze the situation had already appeared.

The figure in front of Swell gradually became clearer. Thinking carefully, who else could it be but that person?

The shadowy figure dissipated, revealing white hair, blue eyes, a slender figure, and a faint smile on his lips, exuding an air of scholarly refinement.

"The Survival Rules of Lungmen, author Alexander Swell." Lin Lu in Swell's mind spoke, whether mocking or sighing, it was unclear. Lin Lu said softly, "You, who can write something like this, why don't you just obediently accept this idiot's proposal and let him do it? Isn't surviving more important to you?"

Swell stared straight up.

His tightly clenched right hand loosened its grip in a spasm, and a bloodstained ring slipped from his limp hand to the ground with a crisp sound. After rolling a few times, the ring fell to its side.

"If it's not done well, it will be confiscated."

That's Swail's answer.

"Hey, you, pick it up."

Zhao Zhenglei waved and called out to one of the team members.

The other person obediently squatted down to pick it up, and as they were leaving, Swell reached out and grabbed their ankle. But Swell's hand had very little strength, and after being stomped on twice, they immediately lost their ability to struggle.

Zhao Zhenglei sat high in his chair, accepting the ring handed to him by his subordinate. He glanced at the bloodstains on it, then tossed it to the ground with disgust, stomping on it. He scoffed, "Ha, I thought it was something valuable. You're going to risk your life for something like this? But it doesn't matter, I'll be the one eliminating that thing next. I'll put your death reports in the hands of the Infected in the Reunion Movement; maybe your relatives will even get certificates of merit bought wholesale from stationery stores by the Guard Bureau. No need to thank me, you deserve it."

Zhao Zhenglei sneered, kicking the mud-stained ring away, which bounced off and hit Swell in the face.

Swell stared at the ring Zhao Zhenglei had trampled on the ground. His reason told him he couldn't move rashly; any movement at this moment would be pointless. Not only would it cause internal bleeding, but any impulsive actions or words could provoke the other party's murderous intent.

Because of the outburst of anger, the mind races, identifying factors that are advantageous to oneself.

Swell's will to survive kept telling him that the best course of action now was to lie still on the ground and wait... for rescue? Whose rescue? Mr. Lin? What right did I have to warrant Mr. Lin coming to save me? What I did to Rhodes Island was enough for Mr. Lin to kill me a hundred times over. The only reason Mr. Lin spared my life was because my identity was still temporarily useful.

A person like me is not worth dying for.

Even so, it doesn't matter.

Tears welled up in Swell's eyes without him even realizing it.

A true man doesn't easily shed tears, but when touched by something painful.

Alexander Swail's relatively short life was mostly spent eking out a living in the shadows. Only now has he glimpsed freedom and ended the bitterness and regret of his mother's persecution and death by evildoers.

Even if the light shines on him for only two hours, it is enough for him, more than enough.

"Tolerance".

This was the first thing Lin Lu said when Swell met him for the first time.

Yes, it's all about forbearance. Isn't that how we've lived all these years?

Now that things have come to this, should we continue to endure this?

no way.

"The person who should receive...the death report..."

The illusory figure before Swell vanished, signifying his loss of composure and his impending cessation of endurance. Even if the excruciating pain spiraled out of control, unbearable agony erupting within him, disrupting blood circulation and causing severe complications leading to death, even if another bullet awaited him, he would still scream.

"You're the ones who should be collecting the death reports!"

With bloodshot eyes and his slicked-back blond hair plastered to his cheeks, the disheveled senior superintendent roared.

He had been waiting for this roar for a long time; if he didn't erupt from silence, he would perish in silence!

"At a time when Lungmen faces life or death, you short-sighted scoundrels only know how to destroy this city for your own selfish interests! Even if I die and am nailed to a coffin, I will shout out—*Lungmen profanities*—from my grave with these decaying vocal cords!!"

Upon hearing this, Zhao Zhenglei frowned, seemingly impatient. He raised his hand and made a tactical gesture as if to execute someone.

The special forces officer who picked up the ring and handed it to Zhao Zhenglei nodded. He then raised his black one-handed gun and aimed it at Swell, who was lying on the ground.

Do you have any last words?

The member in the special forces uniform spoke.

Clearly, this is not the behavior expected of a special forces member. They are required to obey orders and follow instructions, not to take unnecessary actions. Such pointless actions only increase the risk of the operation.

Zhao Zhenglei raised his eyebrows unhappily. He was very disgusted by his subordinates going against his wishes. Wait... Does anyone in my team use guns? And the smell in the air is also very strange. It doesn't smell like the smell produced by gun Originium Arts, but like some kind of chemical substance... It's a bit pungent, and I can't figure out what it is.

"Last words?"

Alexander Swell countered with a question.

He scanned everyone present, then he laughed, a particularly hearty laugh that seemed to open his wounds.

“I know that Mr. Lin has no reason to save someone like me.”

Swell stopped trying to stop the bleeding from his wound. He was going to die anyway, so what was the point of prolonging his life? He reached out and grasped the Alexander family ring, stained with mud and blood, and carefully, meticulously, wiped away the grime with his bloodied fingers. Gradually, the mud was wiped away, leaving only the crimson reflection of blood.

“Mr. Lin won’t save me, but that doesn’t mean he won’t avenge me.”

“I am Mr. Lin’s servant, ah, that’s right, I am Mr. Lin’s servant.”

“I am proud of this, and I will have no regrets even if I die here.”

Swell raised his trembling hand, pointed the ring at the dark muzzle of the gun, and clenched it into a fist.

"I'll be waiting for you in hell!!"

Swell died without regret. In his brief day, he had fulfilled his dream of over a decade, witnessing the deaths of two great enemies. To die as the head of the Alexander family, and as Mr. Lin's servant—what more could he ask for?

"I see."

The special forces officer holding the black short gun tilted his head back, as if he was thinking about something.

Based on Swell's reply, the gunman made a judgment, nodded thoughtfully, and said calmly, "Die."

"Wait a minute, who are you? What's with that gun you're holding?! Why isn't it generating any Originium Arts fluctuations?!"

Realizing that something was amiss with the other party's identity, Zhao Zhenglei hurriedly spoke up while reaching for his weapon.