Arknights: I became an NPC in the online game

Over the past few nights, Felix had felt a subtle sense of being watched. When he brought this up with Degenbrecher, she gave a surprising response—she didn't believe the observer was Terran. If it were, she said, she should've been able to sense their presence. The only likely explanation was that a non-terran device, such as a drone, was being used.

But... no one in Londinium seemed to be using drones.

Setting aside the question of surveillance for now, Felix's transaction with Earl Bolton had come to a close. When he brought the butler and the earl to inspect the completed mecha—and they witnessed the explosive scene caused by Feist donning it—Earl Bolton was immediately delighted. Pleased beyond expectation, he confirmed the deal on the spot and even handed over the blueprint for the steam-powered armor without demanding any deductions. He transferred it to Felix without hesitation.

Lord Bolton's way of doing business was nothing if not direct.

Now, with two blueprints in his possession, Felix essentially had the foundation to build his own elite strike force—his own version of a Steam Knight unit.

With the deal sealed, the next item on his agenda was preparing to leave Londinium. At this point, the city held little left for him. He had obtained the blueprints, made a good impression on the local nobility, encountered Siege—who, in his past life, had been associated with Rhodes Island Pharmaceuticalal—and even taken on three apprentices.

Naturally, these apprentices would continue following him. After all, their contracts had already been signed.

Feist had a heartfelt talk with his grandmother, telling her of his decision to leave with Teacher Felix. He spoke sincerely of everything he'd learned in the past few weeks—how much he had grown, and how much knowledge he had acquired that he never would've encountered as a mere apprentice.

Studying under Teacher Felix might just be the best decision he had ever made.

Catherine, Feist's grandmother, approved of his thinking and supported his decision to go with Felix. But when she learned that Feist intended to leave Londinium altogether and travel to faraway Trimount in Columbia, she fell silent. A complicated look crossed her face—much like the reaction from Snowsant's grandmother.

Felix gave both Feist and Hart plenty of time to prepare. In the meantime, he, Degenbrecher, and Mandragora would head south toward Oak Grove County, to light memorial candles for Mandragora's parents. The round trip was expected to take around two months. He planned to return to Londinium by May, and from there, take the apprentices with him to Trimount.

The schedule was tight but precise—mostly because Felix's plans were interconnected, and he needed time to properly "run the map," so to speak. As a future entrepreneur preparing to build an enterprise, Felix clearly recognized that the power he currently had was far from sufficient.

Right now, only Degenbrecher and Carnelian could be considered reliable combatants. Against elite organizations like Blacksteel International, they would be completely overwhelmed.

As for the players based in Londinium, Felix had no intention of bringing them along. Most of them had already taken up a series of missions in the city's industrial zone and were steadily progressing through those chains. Although Felix was confident that, if he gave the command, they would drop everything and follow him, this current trip was simply a personal journey home. Oak Grove County was far smaller than Londinium, and the scale, mission quality, and potential rewards couldn't compare.

---

In April, Felix departed from Londinium, accompanied by Degenbrecher and Mandragora, heading south toward Oak Grove County.

As the scenery outside the car window gradually shifted to rolling countryside and tranquil farmlands, Mandragora's once cheerful expression began to fade. Her deep golden eyes drifted toward the passing landscape, glancing out from time to time as if lost in distant memories.

Degenbrecher, seated beside her, gently reached out and stroked her head. Mandragora pursed her lips but said nothing, her silence speaking volumes.

Throughout the journey, Felix played a mix of popular records from Victoria, some of which surprisingly originated from Columbia. A few were from the still-trending rap series, but the tone didn't quite match the atmosphere of their trip. Eventually, he switched to soft Lofi music, bringing a cozy, nostalgic warmth to the ride—something that felt like returning home.

Memories stirred behind Mandragora's eyes. Her past life as a Tara had been bitterly difficult, yet she still recalled it as a time of happiness. Maybe because her parents had been with her then. Back then, no matter how hard things were, she had someone to rely on—someone whose arms she could run into and act spoiled. Even when she was hungry, she could endure it. It was okay.

That was how it was. The fleeting happiness Mandragora once longed for and clung to had slipped through her fingers like grains of sand, scattering unnoticed across the ground.

"Were there this many cars the last time we came here...?"

Felix blinked in surprise as he saw a long line of vehicles stretching down the road into Oak Grove County. The scene puzzled him. He had driven for several days from Londinium to this place, only to be greeted by an unexpected traffic jam.

Oak Grove County wasn't a tourist hotspot. It was an industrial city, with nothing particularly attractive to outsiders. So what explained this sudden convoy?

"I'll go take a look."

With the traffic at a standstill and nothing else to do, Degenbrecher stepped out of the car and walked ahead.

As she moved forward, she noticed others similarly dressed in suits and ties—refined, aristocratic figures. Yet despite their formal attire, these nobles didn't carry the usual pride and aloofness of Victorian aristocracy. Instead, they spoke in hushed tones, keeping a low profile.

Squinting toward the front of the convoy, Degenbrecher's eyes narrowed with mild surprise. Among those speaking with the mounted police at the city gate stood a familiar figure—none other than the Earl of Warwick, whom they had met at Earl Bolton's dinner banquet.

Back in the car, Degenbrecher relayed what she saw.

Felix rested his chin in his hand, frowning. Why would Earl Warwick—the prominent leader of the Tara people—be here?

"These nobles... don't look like Victorian aristocrats," Mandragora murmured as she leaned against the window. "They're Tara nobles."

"They have a different aura," she continued. "Victorian nobles are proud, refined, and elegant in everything they do. But Tara nobles… they carry a sadness that's hard to erase. They always seem to walk with an air of inferiority, from beginning to end."

Her words weren't exactly flattering, but as someone born a Tara who had attended Victorian aristocratic gatherings, Mandragora had the credibility to make such an observation.

"So... the Tara nobility is gathering in Oak Grove?" Felix asked.

"That seems like the only explanation."

Felix returned his attention to the wheel, his expression unreadable. "Either way, the Tara nobles have nothing to do with us on this trip. And given their unique status, it's probably best we don't get involved."

After they entered the city, Felix brought the group back to the same hotel they had stayed at last time. His distinct aura immediately caught the hotel owner's attention, who warmly welcomed them and even treated them to a complimentary Victorian-style meal.

...Though, to be honest, Victorian cuisine really wasn't all that impressive.

It was like asking modern-day Britons what their best local food was. They would proudly recommend Chinese cuisine for its flavor, Japanese food for its refinement, South East Asian cuisine for its unique spices, and Mexican dishes for their unforgettable taste...

After dinner, a light drizzle began to fall.

Felix held an umbrella over Mandragora, while Degenbrecher walked ahead alone, holding her own umbrella, retracing the streets they had walked before.

Mandragora looked up. On the left stood the flower shop where her mother used to work. Across the street was the butcher shop—on holidays, her family would come here to buy meat and cook together at home. At the end of the road stood Victoria's school. Mandragora had once imagined what it would be like to carry a schoolbag and wave goodbye to her mother at the school gate. But for Tara people, that dream was never allowed.

The streets of the Tara district remained unchanged.

The three stopped in the rain and gazed at the entrance to the neighborhood. The stone pavement beneath their feet was still stained with gray-black burns—unchanged even after all this time. The building that once stood there, burned to the ground, had been cleared away. In its place stood a newly constructed wooden apartment.

Tara residents bustled around them. Children kicked worn-out balls in the corners of the street. A few elderly men stood in a circle, talking with troubled expressions. Adults who passed by would subconsciously nod to Felix in greeting.

They considered their group Victorians.

Mandragora's lips tightened. The gesture made her clench her fists, the muscles in her arms trembling faintly.

They considered them Victorians—and that's why they bowed their heads, even without realizing it. Had the Tara people already been domesticated?

No. In times like these, any Tara who stood firm would have been made into an example by the Victorians. What remained were only those who wished to live quietly. Their deference wasn't loyalty—it was survival. A nod of obedience was just a form of compromise. A way to keep living. And to do that, endless compromise was necessary.

"Let's go."

Felix took Mandragora's hand. She looked up at him and offered a grateful but fragile smile.

Taking advantage of the rain, the three of them continued through the streets of Oak Grove County and, after walking a few blocks, arrived at the cemetery.

Hundreds of new gravestones filled the area—each one bearing the name of a prominent Victorian.

But the Tara people who perished in that fire had no names, no stories, and no one to remember them.

In the rain, the three approached an unmarked gravestone.

Mandragora held the bouquet she had bought earlier from the flower shop. She and Degenbrecher stepped forward and gently laid the flowers before the stone.

The rain washed over the black tablet in silence.

Felix quietly watched as Mandragora, with Degenbrecher's help, began to clear away the fallen leaves around the gravestone. Though it was raining, Mandragora resolved to return on a clearer day to properly clean the stone—one that had long been weathered by sun and wind.

Her parents weren't buried here. But this silent gravestone represented all of Tara.

In the face of oppression and death, they had chosen silence.

Felix looked up and noticed they weren't the only ones visiting the cemetery on this rainy day.

He felt a gaze upon him—and so did Degenbrecher. They both turned around simultaneously.

In the distance, two figures stood quietly in the rain, each holding an umbrella. They appeared to be women—one with long golden hair, the other with light blonde hair. But their umbrellas were lowered so far that Felix couldn't clearly see their faces.

Degenbrecher spoke calmly, "Mandragora, is the hair you picked up from them?"

Mandragora stood and turned around. She glanced at the two figures, then took two strands of hair from her wallet and handed them to Sister Degenbrecher. With just one look, Degenbrecher confirmed the match.

"What is your purpose, stranger?"

Felix asked without hostility, his tone calm. Yet his coat shifted slightly, revealing two revolvers holstered at his thighs.

"We're simply here to visit this unnamed grave."

The woman with long golden hair took a few steps forward. Her clothing reflected modest wealth. Beneath the umbrella, she wore a faint smile—one that could be read as gentle sympathy. As she approached the tombstone, a pair of striking, deep green eyes were revealed.

Her long tail swayed behind her.

Vouivre? Felix's brow furrowed slightly. He could tell her race from her features, but he didn't sense the usual physical intensity associated with her kind, unlike what he had felt from Saria.

Saria had once explained to Felix the distinct traits of the Vouivre race—foremost among them were exceptional strength and endurance, along with remarkable physical resilience. In terms of raw physicality, they were unmatched among many races. One could always sense a quiet but burning combativeness in their presence.

"Were you also at Earl Bolton's party?"

"Haha, we merely witnessed a dull farce."

The golden-haired woman smiled softly. "We were curious about what the teacher said at dinner, so we slipped in uninvited."

Felix looked at her silently.

"Oh, I almost forgot to introduce myself."

She maintained her polite smile and offered a noble's salute. Even in the rain, her movements were graceful and poised, carrying the elegance of an aristocrat.

"My name is Eblana. It's a pleasure to meet you all… Master Felix, the scientist from Columbia; Master Black Knight, triple crown knight from Kazimierz; and this lovely young lady."

Eblana's tone was gentle, her smile refined. "You… are from Tara?"

Mandragora nodded steadily, her eyes unwavering as she met Eblana's gaze. "I am from Tara."

"And where do you believe the future of the Tara people lies?"

Mandragora answered calmly, "The Tara people are neither tools nor weapons, nor do they belong in the hands of the ambitious. The future of the Tara people belongs only to the Tara themselves."

"In the hands of the Tara… not in those of Draco?"

Draco had once been king of the Tara. Now, they and Aslan shared the right of royal inheritance, yet the throne had long been vacant—no king had ever returned.

"Brother Felix once said that a king is not honored by bloodline, but the bloodline is honored by the king."

Mandragora explained seriously.

Eblana softly exclaimed, "Oh," and glanced at Felix with curiosity. In that moment, she admitted to herself—Felix had piqued her interest.

"Would you mind sharing your views on the king with me?"