Arknights: Studying medicine can't save Terra

Murphy remained calm, his mind immediately flashing back to the news Qi Yan had mentioned earlier about the lingering consciousness of the Witch King in the world.

"...Not for now." Murphy shook his head and said, "Judging from the current signs, Qi Yan is really only after the two owners of the Sound of the Mortal World."

This news left those cloaked figures feeling a mix of disappointment and relief.

Another person spoke up: "We can't fathom what the higher-ups are thinking, and we don't need to think about it. We should just do our jobs honestly."

"Begler, Murphy, you two have both been experiencing some emotional fluctuations lately. I hope you can both adjust your state of mind as soon as possible."

Murphy hummed in response.

But Begler remained silent with his head down for a long while, then suddenly looked up:

"There is one more thing to discuss. According to my information, Gertrude was also involved in this incident, and I don't think we should continue to let her go free."

This woman's behavior was somewhat erratic. After Qi Yan's arrival, she seemed to become even more emboldened, no longer concealing her research on the sounds of the mortal world, and even beginning to capture ordinary people for live experiments.

“She might just not want to live anymore,” Murphy replied.

The others immediately focused their attention on Murphy.

Murphy shrugged and said slowly:

"Without a doubt, the important figure mentioned earlier was killed by Qi Yan."

Gertrude had met Qi Yan and knew his methods, yet she still acted as a double agent, helping Qi Yan plan the affairs of the Mortal Voice while simultaneously helping the remnants of the Witch King's faction behind her to deal with Qi Yan.

In my opinion, she knew she was playing with fire, yet she did it anyway. She just wanted to create chaos, ideally planting the giant mushrooms of last night all over the city, making everyone pay for it.

"In that case, we should hurry up and arrest this crazy woman," Begler said angrily.

“Don’t rush. Gertrude was involved in last night’s events, but Qi Yan didn’t kill her.” Murphy held up a finger and shook it gently. “This means that Qi Yan still has a use for her. We can’t ruin Qi Yan’s game experience, otherwise we’ll have to step in and make up for it ourselves.”

The other cloaked figures remained silent after hearing Murphy's analysis, but Begler could hardly contain his anger.

He stared at Murphy, making no attempt to hide his malice, and speculated:

"You keep talking about Qi Yan, everything you do is to serve Qi Yan. I think you were just joking when you actually said what you really thought!"

The other cloaked figures immediately frowned.

They didn't want the conflict that had just subsided to reignite, but Begler's words made them uneasy.

Just as the group was lost in thought, Murphy slowly stood up and placed one hand on the edge of the table.

Then, to everyone's bewilderment, Murphy suddenly launched an attack, flipping over a table and smashing it down on Begler's head.

This happened so suddenly that Begler had no time to dodge and could only raise his arm to take the hit.

The wooden table shattered into several pieces. Begler groaned and staggered back several steps before regaining his balance.

Before he could speak, Murphy's icy voice rang out first:

"I am the voice of the Queen. I am loyal only to Her Majesty the Queen. You can curse me, you can insult me, you can punch me and make me bark like a dog, and I will not hate you."

But you must never question my loyalty to Her Majesty the Queen. I can tell you clearly that I am ready to give everything for Her Majesty, including my life.

After speaking, Murphy's gaze swept over the others, his eyes icy cold, like a venomous snake ready to strike at any moment:

"Listen up, everyone. As comrades, it's fine for us to joke around in private, but anyone who dares to question my loyalty to Her Majesty the Queen... then be prepared to fight me to the death."

No one in the room dared to speak at this time, including Begler, who forcibly suppressed his anger with a livid face.

Murphy snorted softly upon seeing this, then turned around, opened the door, and left.

Walking through a secluded alley, Murphy pulled off his cloak and strode quickly through the city with a gloomy expression.

He had just lost his temper because his loyalty had been questioned, but deep down, he couldn't deceive himself.

He was actually somewhat embarrassed and angry that the truth had been revealed.

Because he concealed a very important piece of information.

News about the chalk and the witch king.

Lost in his own thoughts, Murphy unknowingly returned to the manor, entered the villa, and immediately collapsed onto the sofa.

"Kant Murphy, what the hell are you doing...?"

Murphy sighed deeply, suddenly feeling very tired. A wave of exhaustion washed over him, dragging him into a dream.

He slept terribly, dreaming of his childhood, of the people he hated most, and of the lives he had killed, whether directly or indirectly, haunting him...

In a daze, Murphy heard a gentle singing voice.

The boy's voice was soft, like a gentle breeze brushing across the hills, bringing a touch of coolness.

The sky was a clear, blue sky.

A gentle breeze sings softly;

The river flows gently.

My heart is full of hope.

Accompanied by the song, Murphy's recurring nightmares gradually faded, allowing him to catch his breath in his dream.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but when he woke up, it was already dark outside.

"I slept all day?"

Murphy was somewhat surprised; this was the first time in many years that he had slept so soundly.

“I don’t know either, Mr. Murphy.”

Bai Er sat on the sofa next to Murphy, smiling. "I woke up in the afternoon and found you in the living room, seemingly having a nightmare. So I took the liberty of singing you a song. I hope it didn't disturb your sleep."

Murphy sat up and shook his head:

"No, if it weren't for your singing, I'm afraid I would be even more tired after this sleep."

"You must be hungry after sleeping all day. I'll go to the kitchen and make you something to eat."

Whitey got up to leave, but Murphy raised his hand to stop him.

He looked at the boy in front of him, whose face still had a touch of childishness, and asked a question that even he himself thought was stupid:

Do you ever feel that your life is very tiring? Do you ever feel resentful or bitter?

After saying that, Murphy felt both amused and regretful.

Asking a child who has been homeless all this time is like rubbing salt into their wounds.

"No, Mr. Murphy."

Chalk's answer surprised Murphy.

He looked up and saw the white-haired boy in front of him looking at him gently with a bright smile.

“I feel very happy and content. Of course, my life is certainly pitiful compared to that of a great person like you, but I love my life.”

Murphy was somewhat taken aback; his first reaction was disbelief, but Chalk's expression didn't seem to be lying.

That was a sincerity he had never seen in his entire life.

As if its memories were being stirred, the chalk closed its eyes and slowly began to narrate:

“My grandfather was a very capable man. Before his carbide disease became as severe as it is now, he could always lead me to the right path in the jungle, catch prey in the wilderness, and find temporary work in the village.”

I love this kind of life. My grandfather always nags me on how to tell if wild fruits are edible, how to set hunting traps, and how to harvest wheat quickly.

One winter, while my grandfather was taking a nap, I went to check the traps alone. From the snowfield, I saw a wild beast lying prone, its head tilted, listening intently. Then, it suddenly leaped up and plunged into the snow like a javelin. When it emerged, it had a super fat field mouse in its mouth.

At this point, Bai'e suddenly chuckled, a hint of embarrassment appearing on his face:

"So I suddenly had a brilliant idea, and I jumped up like that wild beast and plunged headfirst into the snow."

Then my horn got stuck in the frozen ground, but Grandpa arrived just in time and pulled me out. He teased me about it for a long time afterward.

Murphy lowered his head and burst into laughter, which grew louder and louder until he was lying back on the sofa, his body trembling, and tears glistening in the corners of his eyes.

Chapter 290 The Voice of Letania

Bai Er scratched his head, looking at Murphy who was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down his face, somewhat at a loss.

He recounted his own unfortunate experiences, and it was clear that Murphy was troubled, so he wanted to make her laugh.

But isn't that laughter a bit too exaggerated?

Just as Bai Chui was completely baffled, Murphy took a deep breath, stopped laughing, raised his hand to wipe away his tears, and was about to say something.

But the terminal in his pocket suddenly vibrated.

Murphy gave Chalk an apologetic smile, got up, walked to the window, and connected to the terminal.

"...I understand. You're in full charge of the hotel. Don't worry about saving me money...Hehehe, I never mistreat my own people. Do a good job."

The communication was brief; Murphy simply gave a few words and then hung up.

He turned to look at the chalk and asked:

Has my older brother woken up?

“He’s awake.” Bai’e pointed to the study. “He went to the study as soon as he woke up at noon, probably to read.”

Qi Yan, just focus on reading?

Murphy almost doubted that he was still asleep.

He hurried upstairs and carefully knocked on the door of the study.

Qi Yan's voice came from the study, which immediately made Murphy's eyes widen.

Pushing open the door, I saw Qi Yan sitting at his desk, writing something intently.

"Brother, what are you doing?"

Murphy stood obediently at the doorway, not daring to go forward and peek in, lest he see something he shouldn't know.

But Qi Yan beckoned him over to the desk and handed him a piece of paper:

"This is the proposal I came up with. Take a look at it carefully, then make modifications according to Letania's habits, and send it to Gertrude so she can help me implement it."

Murphy took the 'proposal' that was called a book but was actually just a thin sheet of paper and looked down at it.

"The Voice of Letania?"

A caravan slowly drove out of the wilderness, approaching the massive mobile city-state of Viseheim.

The flags symbolizing the nobility of Letania fluttered in the wind atop the lead vehicle of the convoy.

When the military police guarding the entrance to Viseheim saw that flag, their faces turned solemn, their backs straightened, and they began to salute from a great distance.

Only after the convoy entered Viseheim did the military police dare to relax.

"Boss, that banner just now, if I'm not mistaken, it seems to belong to Count Utica."

A member of the military police quietly asked his captain.

The military police captain glared at him and reprimanded him, "You already know, why are you asking? Be careful someone hears you talking about nobles behind their backs, or you'll disappear the next day."

The surrounding military police members, including the person who asked the question, shrank back in fear and dared not say another word.

Ironically, it was their captain himself who was intrigued and muttered to himself:

"But that one isn't a big problem; he's just an empty shell with status but no real power."

"Ha, the bloodline of the Witch King. If it weren't for His Majesty's mercy, he would have been sent to the guillotine long ago and had his head chopped off for all to see."

Upon hearing this, the military police members turned to look in the direction the convoy had left, their eyes filled with pity.

But soon, as if by magic, the captain regained his seriousness and reprimanded:

"Don't gather here. Go back to your posts. Things are not peaceful in Viseheim lately, so be on your best."

The military police officers immediately stood at attention, saluted, and quickly returned to their positions.

Meanwhile, the convoy they had taken pity on had now officially entered the main road of Viseheim.

Inside the carriage, a black-haired boy with purple eyes gazed out the window at the street.

He was dressed in an exquisite black suit, and even just sitting in the car, he exuded a natural elegance. The pair of chalk-like horns on his head added a touch of eeriness to his elegance.

In the boy's eyes, he saw many people on the streets of Viseheim carrying stacks of paper flyers and distributing them to passersby.

It seems there's some big event taking place in the city.