Lappland curled her lips and let out a snort, clearly still holding some dissatisfaction toward her father. Even so, she sat obediently in the seat Felix offered—though her restless wolf tail kept sweeping around as if to express her lingering frustration.
Cellinia, in contrast, was far more composed. She placed her hands neatly on her lap, her beautiful gradient-colored eyes occasionally drifting curiously toward the pistols arranged nearby.
The two girls had contrasting personalities—one fiery and impulsive, the other calm and reserved. Together, they balanced each other like fire and water.
Sunlight struggled to filter through the basement's lone narrow window, casting a faint glow across the angel's back. His golden halo and wings shimmered faintly in the dusty light. For a moment, he looked almost like a character straight out of a mafia film—the divine version of a Godfather.
"No need to call me 'sir,'" Felix said as he removed his work gloves and looked at the two girls. "You're both just fifteen this year."
"How do you know that?" Lappland asked with intrigue.
Felix only smiled, offering no answer.
"I'm seventeen," he continued after a short cough. "When I'm out, I go by the codename 'Pioneer.' From now on, just call me 'brother.'"
Before they could respond, he pivoted the conversation. "As for the business," he said, firmly keeping control of the room, "what you see here are pistols, part of an ongoing transaction."
As far as Felix was concerned, he had no particular interest in the girls—not in that way. To him, they were still just ordinary girls at the beginning of their stories.
In the future, Lappland's fate would become unpredictable. But if players were lucky enough to encounter her in battle and survive for one minute without a countdown, they could trigger a special quest. That quest would unlock the rare sub-class Berserker, a powerful double-edged sword archetype. With it, the more blood you lost, the more damage you could inflict—an ideal path for melee-focused Vanguard Guards.
In the Siracusa region, players often began their progression by learning from Vanguard and Guard family members. However, getting your hands on an official class skill book from the mafia was no easy feat for newcomers.
"Handgun—can I try one?" Lappland asked, her interest clearly piqued. Then, with a sly grin, she added, "Brother Pioneer?"
Cellinia looked tempted too. She wasn't the type to show her feelings openly, but Felix could still see the flicker of curiosity in her eyes.
"Here. Go ahead and try them."
Felix handed each of them a pistol, without any instructions or loaded rounds. For someone unfamiliar with firearms, a pistol was nothing more than cold, inert steel. The girls toyed with the guns for a bit, eventually managing to figure out the loading motion, though the finer mechanics still eluded them.
"Do you like it?" he asked.
Lappland curled her lips again, muttering, "I like it, but I don't know how to use it. It's way harder than swinging a sword… By the time the enemy finishes reloading, I'd already have chopped them into pieces."
She quickly lost interest in the handguns and turned to Felix with growing excitement.
"Brother Pioneer, are you interested in swords?"
[Lappland (Lv25) is ready to teach you the Guardian Occupation Skill Book. Accept/Decline?]
Felix nodded. "I am. Sword combat is something I've always admired. But… I'm a Sankta. My race doesn't have the same natural affinity for bladed weapons as the Lupos."
"Hahaha! The Pioneer boy is so handsome, but he talks like such a nerd," Lappland laughed, eyes squinting playfully. She reached into the bag slung over her shoulder and pulled out an aged, yellowed book titled Mafia: Introduction to Swords. "I don't need this anymore. Since you're interested in swordplay, I'll give it to you."
Felix accepted it with a smile and thanked her. He had already decided to pursue the auxiliary path with his current build, but that didn't mean the Guardian profession skill book was useless. On the contrary—it was valuable.
He glanced at Cellinia, who was still quietly admiring the pistol on the table, and then at Lappland, who was now practically clinging to him with no regard for personal space. If these two were wearing school uniforms, Felix thought to himself, "Ah… this is youth."
While the two girls chatted and bickered, Felix returned to his workbench and resumed planning. Now that business in Florence Mobile City was wrapped up, it was time to shift focus—his next goal was to search for someone deep within the forest.
Since we're both Sankta, he thought, it shouldn't be too difficult to gain their trust… right?
When lunchtime came, Lappland and Cellinia didn't stick around to interrupt his break. Lappland gave a casual wave and left humming a tune, her tail swaying rhythmically behind her.
Cellinia paused at the door and turned back to him with a small wave. "Brother Pioneer, see you next time."
"Do you like guns?" Felix asked.
"…Huh?"
Her wolf ears twitched. She hesitated a moment, then gave a small nod. "I think they're… interesting."
Felix stepped forward, a pistol in hand. "Since you like pistols, I want you to have this one."
He leaned slightly, gently took Cellinia's hand, and placed the weapon in her palm. "This pistol is called Guardian. I hope it protects you."
Cellinia's lips parted slightly, as if to refuse. Her instincts told her it was too valuable to accept so casually.
But Felix straightened up, the golden glow of his halo and wings casting warm light across the dark basement. He looked like a figure from scripture.
"I am Sankta. The only reason a Sankta walks this land of suffering is to uphold their ideals. And mine… is to help people live with a smile."
"Cellinia," he continued, his voice calm but steady, "people on this land all have desires, struggles, and dreams. They gain power, and use it to pursue their goals. But in doing so, they risk being hurt. They get lost. The future is uncertain—like a beast called fear that gnaws at the soul."
He let out a quiet sigh. "I hope this gun keeps you safe."
With a calm expression and hands folded, Felix recited the traditional Sankta invocation, like a priest offering a blessing. His demeanor carried a solemn and sacred weight.
"…I understand, Brother Pioneer." Cellinia's eyes sparkled softly as her tail gently swayed. Then, with a small step forward, she wrapped her arms around the fake priest in a warm hug.
"Thank you."
After bidding farewell to Cellinia, Felix shook his head. His earlier display of compassion had even caught himself off guard.
Those words and gestures had been copied from his leader, Andoain. Apparently, that kind of sincerity had quite the effect—especially on a young lamb like Cellinia.
He glanced at the notification panel, which hadn't moved since the transaction was completed.
[Relationship with the Saluzzo Family: (40/100)]
[Lappland's Relationship with You: (25/100)]
[Cellinia's Relationship with You: (30/100)]
There was a favorability system in place for players, camps, and NPCs alike. This favorability was determined numerically. A base score of 0 indicated indifference—essentially a first impression. But as players interacted more with camps and NPCs, that value would rise… or fall.
Joining a camp would immediately lower your favorability with its enemies.
Currently, Felix's standing with Kazdel was at -10—marked as hostile. But should he choose to join the Papal Knights or the Laterano Guard, that score would plunge to -70, signaling pure hatred.
If he began killing Sarkaz forces on the battlefield, the relationship would bottom out at -100. At that point, any encounter would be a fight to the death.
As for improving favorability, there were only a handful of options. Completing camp quests would raise camp favorability. Once it reached a certain threshold, you could even invite NPCs to join your party for quests. To increase an individual NPC's favorability, however, you either had to complete their personal quests or give them gifts.
He remembered how, in his previous life, some players in Lungmen had formed an unofficial "Miss Lungmen Fan Club." Their daily activity? Farming equipment and delivering gifts to the city's most popular female NPCs—Chen, Swire, Hoshiguma, Fumizuki…
Ahem. Something definitely felt off about that last one.
Still, there was a cap. When an NPC received enough gifts—usually between 30 to 40—their favorability wouldn't increase further. From that point, the only way to deepen the relationship was through personal missions. Unfortunately, these missions were often long, complicated, and condition-heavy. He remembered a player who spent two months doing quests for a single NPC just to finally become close friends with her.
And that was just a regular background NPC. As for major story characters? Players tried everything, but none had ever managed to raise their favorability beyond 50.
At one point, the community even proposed a marriage system with key NPCs, but that idea was quietly shelved.
Felix spent the next few days holed up in the workshop, focusing on forging pistols to grind experience. After a week, he finally packed his camping backpack and checked out of the hotel.
He didn't take the military pickup truck with him. Instead, he set off on foot, heading north along the continent. The further he went, the fewer cars there were. Eventually, the distant line of forest on the horizon came steadily into reach.
There were still about four months left before the server officially launched, and Felix knew he had to be fully prepared before the players arrived.
The forest entrance ahead was cloaked in shadows, the occasional chirping of birds echoing through the trees. But Felix understood all too well—this forest held far more dangers than its serene appearance suggested.
He adjusted the twin pistols strapped to his waist and stepped into its depths.
This particular forest had never suffered from natural disasters, nor had it shown any signs of Originium activity. Staying here for extended periods wouldn't lead to infection. That was the only reason Florence had felt confident enough to camp nearby in the first place.
With no map to rely on, all he could do was navigate blindly, step by step. Still, without any distinctive landmarks, it was difficult to maintain a consistent direction.
As he moved forward, Felix marked tree trunks along the way, ensuring he wouldn't lose his bearings.
A few wild rabbits darted past him, startled by his presence. He didn't reach for his guns. He had no intention of hunting them. For one, he didn't want to risk contamination from eating wild animals—he wasn't a player anymore. In the game, food poisoning would just trigger an HP countdown and respawn mechanic. But here, he couldn't afford such a mistake.
Besides, the dry rations in his pack were more than enough to last him a month.
His true objective was to find a Rutland mechanic named Dürrenmatt, said to be somewhere within this forest.
The Mechanic class was a deep and complex secondary profession. Much like the Gunsmith, Mechanics used various parts to craft mechanical constructs. They could create things like mechanical power arms, reinforced armor, small automated turrets, and other battlefield support tools. The turrets a Mechanic deployed were considered part of the player's "team." For auxiliary system users, this secondary class significantly changed the gameplay dynamic.
In the later stages of the previous game version, many new players opted for support roles. Once they picked up the Mechanic profession, though, they were quickly overwhelmed by the complexity of blueprints, the cost in LMD, and the massive experience points required for upgrades.
Like Gunsmiths, Mechanics were a money sink.
But the more you invested, the stronger your overall power rating would become.
In his previous life, Felix had also been a support player. At first, he'd simply logged into Ark whenever he was bored, happy enough just being a production specialist in the main city. But as the game evolved, auxiliary roles grew more influential. Eventually, he transformed from a lazy, casual player into a dedicated one, logging in daily to grind materials and optimize equipment.
Stable progression, profitable trade routes, and resource accumulation—these were the foundations that gave Felix the confidence to challenge Saria. At the time, he had been one of the few players who had reached the five-star level, and he had charged into battle without hesitation.
He camped in the forest for a full week. Though he hadn't encountered any people, wild animals were plentiful. Still, he didn't feel lonely. In his past life, production players often ventured alone into uninhabited and perilous zones in search of rare metals. Solitude had always been part of the grind.
One afternoon, as Felix was moving forward, he suddenly came to a halt. He crouched down, taking cover behind the trunk of a tree. Ahead, he could faintly hear several people chatting loudly.
For the first time, he found his halo and wings a hindrance to stealth. Thankfully, it wasn't nighttime—otherwise, the faint golden glow they emitted would have made him far too conspicuous.
The Sankta class clearly wasn't built for stealth. It was meant for gunfights.
"[Ursus crude language]... What's the value of this broken forest anyway? I don't get it, Captain."
"What are you thinking? Isn't this the perfect location for a military factory, you idiot? If we dump the Infected out here, won't our city be safer?"
"But... isn't this a bit too far from Ursus? Sure, it borders the uninhabited zone, but this is still Siracusa territory."
"The Mafia of Siracusa?" The leader—Captain Ursus—spoke with blatant disdain. "If they were a united like us, I might actually respect them. But the Twelve Families, always fighting among themselves? What a joke. Outsiders might think they're some grand, Mafia-style warlords who can mobilize entire divisions. But last time I visited Siracusa's mobile city, it was nothing like I imagined. Just a bunch of beasts in human clothing, clawing for power. Scattered and pathetic."
Their conversation ended when a third party entered the scene.
"Captain, Deputy Captain—we found the base of those bastards. What should we do?"
Captain Ursus snorted. "What do you mean, 'what should we do'? Think they can cross us and get away with it? Just wait until I get back—I'll crush them."
The remaining two Ursus players roared like bears, their laughter echoing as they departed.
Felix remained crouched in silence. But he had a vague idea of what he'd just witnessed. This must be the scene that set the stage for Vermeil's tragedy—the annihilation of her village by the Ursus mercenary group. She had been the sole survivor. And from that day, the seeds of hatred took root in her young heart.
Should he let the plot play out naturally?
…Or not?
Felix didn't hesitate long. He gently brushed the double eagle pistols hanging from his waist with his right hand.
Damn it. If he had traveled into this world as an NPC, then maybe—just maybe—the plot wasn't set in stone. In the past, as a player, he could laugh off injustice and cruelty as scripted events.
But now, as an NPC himself, why couldn't he choose to change it?
If you have the power to act, then you have the responsibility to do so—with a clear conscience.
As he drew his guns and charged forward, a sudden thought crossed his mind.
His surname—Lanshem—was only one letter different from the protagonist of the classic game The Warrior of Light from his past life: Ashem.
Ashem had traveled across the world, helping those in need.
Lanshem could do the same.