I'm fighting Kal'tsit? Really?

The wind, like an invisible hand, brushed past her side, carrying a familiar scent, causing her to instinctively look up.

A figure sped past and entered her field of vision.

Pegasus has finally returned.

“Well done, Miss Messenger.” Gerald’s voice rang out in the wind. He was still wearing the rusty hammer soldier’s clothes, though his identity no longer needed to be hidden. “Without your help, it would have been impossible to blow people and houses up with them… Now it’s my turn.”

The wind erupted the instant his words fell, sweeping across the ground like a raging torrent, lifting the fallen pioneers and vines together, and hurtling them toward a safe zone beyond the edge of the natural disaster.

However, this is far from the whole story.

A large shadow fell on Angelina's face, and she instinctively looked up at the sky. Logically, they were already out of the flare's range, and the earthquake shouldn't have triggered a storm, unless—

Unless it's not a cloud.

Angelina then realized what the man, who had kept his face covered the whole time, had just done.

The staff fell from her mouth, caught in the wind, and landed beside her, while Angelina could only stare blankly at the scene in the sky.

Behind Gerald, a whole convoy of cars was being lifted into the air by the wind.

The pioneers, who had fled in haste due to the rusty hammer attack and gone astray, were now huddled inside a wagon, watching the ground recede further and further away from them, and the vehicle speeding up through the air.

The winds of Pegasus are carrying all the survivors, transporting them to farther, safer places as this natural disaster strikes.

Chapter Sixty-Seven: Anyway, we're all coming to Tremont (4K)

May 11, in the wilderness outside Colombia.

Due to natural disasters, the borders between various mobile cities have become extremely difficult to measure. And since wanderers venturing into the wilderness usually act alone, over time few people really care whether anyone wants to cross the territory measured by borders, since the mobile cities themselves are the biggest challenge for stowaways.

However, such standards do not apply to ships, or the companies built on them.

Whether it's paperwork or the corresponding inspection procedures, when embarking on a special shipping route, the navigator must consider the possibility of intruding into another country's territory during each calibration. Even if there are border checkpoints, evacuation and reconstruction efforts must be considered at any time due to natural disasters. Therefore, in most cases, ships need to travel along certain routes between countries to avoid such situations.

However, there is indeed a perfect route that can cross the entire land – starting from below Lungmen and heading west, avoiding Ursus, Letania, and Victoria, one can reach the south of Kazimierz, bordering Kjerag.

A pharmaceutical company's ship is currently following this route, steadily making its way to the other side of the world.

For Amiya, the ship's CEO and the Rhodes Island employee who voted for the ship's number one spot, recent events have actually brought her some comfort.

Some major events had already concluded around February. Following their planned route, they traveled from Lonça to Bolívar, and then left Bolívar to conduct data retrieval and a brief stay near Colombia.

There weren't many disputes, and we didn't encounter any natural disasters along the way; everything went smoothly.

This is one of the few trips where they are not actually involved in the conflicts of other countries, but are simply on a mission to save people... Although there are not always pleasant things along the way, most of the employees at Rhodes Island are in good spirits, which is a good sign.

Recently, the field operators seem to have developed a strong interest in role-playing games, especially when playing with children, the atmosphere is particularly relaxed and enjoyable. Occasionally, someone will invite Amiya to join in.

Faced with such a suggestion, a hint of longing stirred deep within her. After all, being able to temporarily set aside the pressures of her demanding work and enjoy a moment of fun with everyone was something many people yearn for. However, she had too many tasks on her shoulders, with mountains of work piling up every day, leaving her with almost no time for herself.

In the end, she declined the invitation, watching as the operators, along with some of the younger ones, immersed themselves in laughter and joy, a slight sense of regret rising in her heart.

However, in order to comfort the staff and take care of the psychological problems of some elite operators, Rhodes Island is preparing to go to Siesta around summer... At that time, even she should be able to have a little rest.

With that thought in mind, her steps became lighter, her rabbit ears on her head and the documents in her hands twitching as she hopped and skipped toward Dr. Kal'tsit's office.

After all, she is only a fourteen-year-old girl.

……

When Rhodes Island is operating normally, only the navigator and some staff in the power unit need to stay focused at all times, so today is a day off for Amiya, and she can go and help Dr. Kal'tsit with some things.

Her steps were light, and she greeted all the passing operators with a smile. Everyone respected and smiled at this little CEO—they had all witnessed this child standing in front of the operators, which was more respectful than any simple position.

"Good morning, Amiya!" A shrewd merchant, riding a round stool, rushed down the corridor and greeted the little rabbit. Then, he "whooshed" past Amiya and dodged around the corner with a drifting motion.

"Good morning, Miss Kroos!" Amiya nodded, greeting the Blood Demon who was moving rapidly down the corridor, and offered a friendly reminder from afar, "Please don't walk so fast in the corridor—or you'll bump into other people—"

Before the words were finished, a loud crash came from around the corner ahead, followed by a blood demon's slightly guilty, dry laugh.

...At least she now knows that Miss Cloochil, who often comes up with good ideas, sometimes doesn't listen to her at all.

As the head of the engineering department, Kroos was responsible for all damage, big and small, in the ship's hold. Since no one had been hit, Amiya could only sigh slightly at the situation, keeping the matter of restarting the bench slide race in mind, to give a verbal reprimand later... Incidentally, she also needed to talk to Ms. Kal'tsit about whether a space could be cleared in the training room for the participants to practice.

Good morning, Amiya.

The next one to pass by was a Banshee dressed in an elite operator outfit... This might be a bit misleading, because apart from having some characteristics of the Banshee, this operator was almost completely unrelated to this race, including his current gender.

The moment Amiya turned around, the feathers on his head tilted slightly, revealing his somewhat tired eyes under the corridor lights.

"Ah, Mr. Logos!" The little rabbit's face lit up with a joyful smile: "You've had a good day, returning from your mission."

The banshee nodded, glancing out of the corner of her eye at the corner Kroos had just passed, and said casually, "Yes, everything went very smoothly. Thanks to the perfect battle plan, and thanks to your and the Doctor's command, Amiya."

Amiya was about to respond when she noticed Logos's gaze unconsciously drifting behind her. Following his gaze, she immediately remembered what had just happened, and a hint of helplessness crept into her smile.

“This time you need to let me know in advance, Mr. Logos.” She sighed softly, her tone carrying a hint of helpless seriousness as she reminded him, “Last time the elite operators were going to hold a bench sliding competition, and the ‘modifications’ they made to the training ground were already excessive enough. This time you have to book in advance, otherwise the operators training tomorrow morning will probably have a headache again…”

"...I think it's pointless to participate in the competition until the runner-up challenges me again, so please ask Ms. Kroos about any questions related to this."

Logos shook his head slightly, his expression darkening as a bitter emotion flowed from him and settled into Amiya's will.

She could sense the banshee's emotions at that moment—through the authority of the Sarkaz Demon King.

"Ah! But Mr. Logos will have a long vacation to rest on Rhodes Island this time, right?" Amiya quickly realized she shouldn't bring up deeper issues and hurriedly changed the subject. "After all, you've been on missions and dealing with threats the whole time. Will Mr. Logos come with you next time you go to Siesta?"

"Perhaps."

The succubus gave a vague answer, and his emotions became somewhat complicated.

He has had very little rest in the past two years. Whether it is dealing with the Sarkaz issues or communicating with Kazdel and the Valley, it has left him physically and mentally exhausted... not to mention what happened in Chernobog four months ago.

He definitely needs a vacation to sort out some of his thoughts.

Their meeting was purely accidental, and after a quick exchange, they each continued on their original paths.

……

Before long, Amiya arrived at Dr. Kal'tsit's office.

She knocked gently on the door and entered as usual.

As usual, Kal'tsit was sitting behind the table, next to an information integration panel and a vacuum thermostatic storage box, which could be used to treat patients when needed. Most of the decoration and design were done for the sake of efficiency, and even the bed was extremely simple... However, anyone could see that the bed had hardly been used, which was enough to show what kind of workaholic the owner of this room was.

The green lynx was laying out a document from Colombia on the table, not even drinking coffee, just burying itself in writing annotations and notes.

She barely managed to lift her head when Amiya came in, rubbing her temples. "Thank you, Amiya. The documents can be left on the table."

"Hehe, okay." Amiya gently placed a stack of things on the table and moved closer to Kal'tsit. "Dr. Kal'tsit, Rhodes Island will be stopping near Trimont for some supplies. I actually have some questions that I'm not sure about and would like to ask for your opinion, Doctor."

Kal'tsit nodded: "Is it about Rhine Labs operators? Or the unusual natural disaster that recently occurred in the Columbia Wilderness?"

“You mean,” Amiya blinked, although she had handled a lot of information, she clearly hadn’t fully grasped this part of the data yet. “About the natural disaster on the border of Tikkarendo, similar to the one that Agent Finn and the others experienced last time? A natural disaster that takes the form of an earthquake. The Doctor was also surprised when she saw this.”

“It’s not about the type of natural disaster.” Kal’tsit’s voice was as calm as ever, but there was a hint of fatigue in her tone. She raised her hand to her forehead and continued, “It’s just that there are figures resembling Angelina and Provence operators in the incident, and there is a possibility that they have been involved in the military and political affairs of Colombia.”

She rubbed her temples again, clearly indicating that this wasn't the only thing that had exhausted her: "Let's consider that once we get to Tremont. The important thing now is how Rhodes Island should handle this letter."

"letter?"

Amiya's gaze shifted from the documents to an inconspicuous letter—it bore marks resembling thorns, and the scent was very familiar to her.

That was the aura of a banshee, exactly the same feeling she had just experienced from the Logos operator.

"Regarding the former Lord of the Deathstroke Court's request to visit Rhodes Island in the future."

Kal'tsit said, word by word.

--------

On the other side, Tremont.

"How should I put it... your home is actually a bit special, Saria."

Gerald, now dressed in another outfit and hooded, walked unreservedly into the home of a certain Vaiva, looking around with interest at most of the interior decoration.

While many areas exhibit a minimalist style, there are indeed quite a few intriguing details, such as some plants on the windowsill that seem to be dying of thirst.

It looked like it had been meticulously maintained, but had only been watered twice recently. However, that wasn't the key issue. The key issue was that this plant clashed drastically with the overall style of the room. It was like someone who frequently travels keeping several potted plants and maintaining them regularly—this inherently contradicted Saria's traits and activity schedule.

Based on the recent watering situation—

"You can rest assured that I checked the condition of the house when I came back. Very few people know that I have a property located underground, so the information is very difficult to leak out."

From the corner of the room, Saria had quickly changed her clothes and walked out of the room. Some items that were originally used for disguise had been thrown aside and were prepared for destruction later.

"Okay, by the way, should I have picked up an outfit before coming? Do you have any styles that would suit me? Can I take a shower now?"

There was no sign of the alarm going off in Gerald's mind, so Seria was probably right.

Come to think of it, it's obviously unlikely that a workaholic would go home frequently. Although someone with ulterior motives might investigate and leave some traces, as for a privately built house underground...

It can only be said that although Saria places great emphasis on order, she is not so rigid on non-scientific and political issues.

Saria silently shook her head. Although her figure was similar to that of some adult men, it was still incomparable to that of a Kuranta warrior who was fighting on the front lines: "You can make do with the bathroom and the bathrobe inside for now. I'll go out and find some places that offer custom-made items. Going to ordinary stores risks revealing our whereabouts."

"Aren't you going to wash?"

“If it’s just washing your hands and face, and dealing with body odor, I do have some experience.” Vayvan’s usually decisive demeanor was tinged with a hint of irritation. “We’ll talk about it later. I’ll go get you some clothes. You can use anything in the house.”

Snapped.

The door to the room opened and then closed; Saria left very quickly.

Okay, I was originally going to ask where I should touch and where I shouldn't... but now it seems like there's no difference.

The moment Gerald locked the bathroom door behind him, a slight mechanical clicking sound came from the metal door frame.

Steam filled the air, and the temperature in the bathroom gradually rose as the hot water flowed. Wispy white mist clung to the walls, giving them a hazy, damp sheen.

Gerald slowly exhaled, reached out and turned on the water valve, letting hot water pour down from above his head, sliding down his shoulders and taking away the fatigue deep in his muscles.

This was the first time in the past three years that he had experienced this level of comfort.

The warm water washed over his skin, cleansing away the dust from the battle and the wilderness, and also allowing his tense nerves to relax a little.

He raised his hand and wiped his face, the wet, silvery-white hair slipping through his fingers and clinging to his neck and shoulders.

Natural disasters, the two Rhodes Island operators, Kannot... Although a lot happened, the rest of the story is basically the same old tale. Some people were admired, some disappeared silently into the shadows, and some obtained what they wanted from the ruins of a destroyed civilization.

Miss Volper's behavior left a deep impression on him. Although her abilities were not yet proficient, her Originium Arts, which allowed her to fly, actually gave him a lot of goodwill. Moreover, she was brave enough.

Before arriving in Tremont, they had parted ways with Gerald and Saria. One was to continue her mission as the Cataclysmic Messenger—fortunately, according to her, she retrieved her identity documents during the final evacuation; while the other was to continue her mission at Rhodes Island, collecting monitoring rings from patients.

After many twists and turns, and several days of trekking through mountains and rivers, they finally arrived in Trimont.

Recalling the speed at which Saria had left, he couldn't help but chuckle softly.

Her blatant and hasty retreat was unlike her usual style.

However, this also means that he doesn't have to worry about whether his words or actions will put the other party in an uncomfortable situation for the time being—at least before he figures out the boundaries himself, Saria has already drawn a line for him.

This was undoubtedly a good thing for the scene in his dream.

He pressed his forehead against the cold bathroom wall, feeling the warm water washing over the back of his neck. After a moment, he finally sighed softly, closed his eyes, and let his chaotic thoughts slide away with the water, returning to silence.

Until a single drop of water fell from the faucet on the sink.

Chapter Sixty-Eight: Miu Miu: ? (4K)

tick-

A drop of water slowly fell from the faucet on the washbasin, touching the cold ceramic surface and splashing up an almost imperceptible ripple. However, unlike ordinary water droplets, it did not slide down the countertop and spread out as usual, but strangely stayed in place, with tiny ripples spreading across the surface.

Then the second and third drops of water converged, mingled and wriggled together, quietly moving their "bodies" linearly along the surface of the ceramic.

Steam rises gently from the air, touches the mirror, and condenses into fine mist on the smooth glass surface. After a brief pause, the heating device behind the mirror quietly activates, causing the temperature to rise slightly, which quickly evaporates the mist, revealing the hazy reflection beneath the mirror.

The reflection quickly disappeared from its original spot, as if it had been severed in mid-air. The water stains vanished without a trace along the ground, and Gerald turned off the embedded water valve in the bathroom.

He walked out naked, and his body was indeed much cleaner than before—this place felt more like the valley in his dream, with a clean room where he could wash himself, no cameras watching him, and no one urging him to leave.

In Mansfield and the wilderness, even taking a hot shower and scrubbing off the mud was a luxury.

Unfortunately, this luxury was soon shattered by an uninvited guest from afar.

Gerald grabbed a dry towel and bent down to rub his damp, silvery-white hair, using the towel's absorbency to remove all the remaining water droplets. Only after confirming that no more water was dripping from his hair did he casually toss the towel onto the shelf beside him. At this moment, the cloth on his shoulder still flowed with blood that had not yet completely dried, and even after being burned by Originium Arts several times, it still exuded the aura of life.

Then, the bathrobes on the shelf caught his attention.

He frowned, picked it up and examined it. The size was clearly made for Saria's figure, and it looked far too tight on him, barely covering his waistline. In the end, he simply gave up, tossing the bathrobe aside and using a towel tied around his waist as a makeshift cover.

Gerald stepped lightly out of the bathroom, pushed open the door, and a familiar breeze wafted in, carrying no unusual scent.