Arknights: I became an NPC in the online game

He'd been carrying this idea for a long time.

Starting a company from scratch is no small feat. Colombia is full of fresh startups, and venture capital firms exist precisely to fund them. But Felix had no intention of letting venture capital dictate his decisions—especially in the fragile early years of the company. He'd already had a taste of that grind before joining Rhine Lab: endless document reviews, pointless meetings, and wasted time that could've been spent actually building something.

Now was as good a time as any. The year was 1090. Nearly four years had passed since he arrived in this world. He was no longer the green, aimless Sankta who once chased battlefield glory and got himself killed. He'd grown into an adult with direction.

At twenty, most Sankta would've just finished church school, wandering around Laterano looking for stable, lifelong work—if they ever left the Holy City at all.

If this world had been like Overlord—just him in a game-world setting, no players, no outside chaos—he might've chosen a quieter life. Studied. Gained certifications. Taken a desk job. Lived quietly as a notary. That might've been enough.

But then came the Fourth Impact.

The players changed everything. They were relentless, reckless, undying. They stirred chaos wherever they went. And Felix understood them better than anyone—because he had once been one of them.

He knew what players wanted. That's why people like Magic ZX and the others stuck around. They weren't fools. They knew the moment Felix started taking in followers that he was laying the groundwork for something bigger. A guild. A company. An organization.

They got close early—because early movers reap the rewards.

But truth be told, Felix wasn't ready yet. Not in power, not in reach. Across all of Terra, his combat strength wasn't even that of a three-star operator. He had a Ph.D. title, sure—but in a real fight, his biggest trump card was Degenbrecher. Not even Carnelian was on that level. Degenbrecher, ten years her senior and untrained in Originium Arts, could still beat her one-on-one.

It made him wonder: Why was being a capable support so hard?

Why did he feel so damn weak?

"…In the early stages, our focus will be exploration and scientific research," Felix said, tapping the Terra map that the bartender had brought over. "I'm planning to set up operations around Lungmen for now. Our main routes will follow the central axis—through Siracusa, Laterano, Victoria, and Columbia. All potential branch locations."

"Lungmen, huh…"

The Emperor let out a long, dissatisfied noise.

"What's wrong?"

"You know a guy named Wei Yanwu?" the Emperor said, eyes narrowing behind his sunglasses.

Felix's eyes flicked up, a glint of recognition flashing in them.

Wei Yanwu—Lungmen's supreme leader and executive officer—had a reputation that aligned with certain... niche tastes. According to player intel, almost no one truly knew him. In Felix's previous life, some players had worked in the Guard Bureau or dabbled in Yan politics, but even they came up empty-handed when it came to Wei Yanwu.

"I don't know him," Felix replied plainly.

"Good," the Emperor said, relaxing again into the sofa and flapping his wings lazily. "If you were cozy with that guy, I'd have second thoughts about you setting up shop in Lungmen."

He leaned back, sunglasses reflecting the low bar lights. "But I'll admit—Lungmen's a solid choice. The city's well-connected. Merchants, entrepreneurs, and outsiders from every corner of Terra pass through."

He raised a wing and started counting off rejected alternatives.

"The Kawalerielki? Too corporate. You'll drown in fees from the Chamber of Commerce.

Wrankwood? All flash—great for tourism, not for real work."

He pushed up his sunglasses again. "But if you go to Lungmen, you will have to deal with Wei Yanwu eventually."

Felix nodded. "Never trust a politician."

"Exactly." The Emperor let out a sharp laugh. "You've got the idea. I know you're not stupid—you won't show all your cards in front of him. Still… something about this whole thing makes me uneasy."

The Emperor rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Then he blinked, snapping back to awareness. "Wait a minute—why am I even giving you advice?"

"We're talking about your future logistics department," Felix said with a straight face. "For the Emperor, this is just a title. If you feel like disappearing and throwing a rap concert in Columbia, you can do that. No one's stopping you."

"…Damn. That's tempting."

Felix chuckled. "Sure, it looks like a small-time operation now. But give it time—it'll grow. I just need to secure the right investors. I'm not chasing venture capitalists who flip opinions like coins every quarter."

To get the company moving quickly, Felix needed capital—real capital. He couldn't afford to build from the ground up like Kristen did with Rhine Lab. Back then, it was just Kristen, Yara, Saria, and Muelsyse—a four-person startup that clawed its way to an IPO years later.

But Felix? He didn't have years. Half a game version had already passed in this world. He didn't have time to stall.

"If you're serious about finding real backers…" The Emperor paused, clearly reluctant. "…I might know someone."

He flapped a wing dismissively. "I'll make the call—but you're the one who'll have to convince them. Don't expect me to do the talking."

"Naturally," Felix said with a grateful nod.

When their drinks were done, Felix stepped out of the bar and back onto the street, heading toward the black market. He hadn't expected the blueprint of his company to fall into place so quickly… but maybe that was the power of long-buried ambition.

The words had come to him easily—too easily.

He'd been thinking about this for far longer than he realized.

After picking up the ancient-grade weapon repair metal from the black market, Felix winced at the price. Painful. It was clearly time to head to Ursus. The players over there hadn't been harvested yet—they were likely fat and ripe. But for now, that would have to wait. First, he needed to prepare another batch of gear to offload.

To be honest, his current stockpile could fill several trucks.

He hadn't heard much from Loughshinny lately. Eblana had entrusted her to him—yes, there was an air of exploitation in that arrangement, but Felix didn't dwell on it. In her shoes, he'd have made the same decision. Besides, he never saw Loughshinny as a burden. Her background, her tragic past, her role as a manufactured tool—those chains had been shattered by her sister's hands. In a way, Loughshinny was one of the lucky ones.

Still, Loughshinny was likely lost. Her entire life had been governed by orders, by purpose. With those bonds suddenly gone, she was drifting—unsure of what to do, who to be. Felix had seen that uncertainty in her eyes during the journey to Trimount.

When he reached her hotel and knocked, she opened the door quickly. Loughshinny was dressed in a simple but stylish outfit—one of the ones she'd picked up here in Trimount. She gave him a polite smile.

"Teacher Felix."

Technically, Loughshinny was an adult. But she had no job yet. She had come to him voluntarily, and so, like Carnelian and Degenbrecher, he provided her with a monthly allowance. That was how he handled all his subordinates—based on necessity, not status.

"What were you doing just now?"

He stepped inside. Her suitcase was neatly placed in the corner. It looked like she'd been reading at the windowsill.

Felix walked over and noticed the book on her lap: The History of Scientific Progress, an introductory Columbia University text.

"You're reading this?"

"Well… I'm curious about what Teacher Felix does," she replied softly. Her eyes lifted to meet his, her tone calm but unsure. "Because you're a scientist… and Columbia is very different from Victoria."

"Honestly, it's not all that different," Felix said, pulling up a chair. "Victoria values industrial technology—practicality. That naturally puts engineers and craftsmen at the center. Columbia, though, with so many Terran races mingling together, has this fusion of ideas that pushes technology forward fast."

"What does Victoria lack, then?" she asked.

Felix paused. "I don't think I'm qualified to say what an empire lacks. I'm a teacher. And I don't want my opinions shaping yours the wrong way."

He leaned back slightly. "I don't know what Earl Warwick taught you and Eblana, but what matters isn't formal teaching—it's self-learning. Reading, listening to real stories, seeing the world for yourself. That's worth far more than lectures in some noble's garden."

"…I understand, Teacher."

Loughshinny lowered her gaze. Gone was the battle-hardened commander of the Deep Pool who had stood beside Eblana for years. Now, she was just a young woman—lost in transition, uncertain of her place in the world.

In some ways, she lacked direction—even more so than Mandragora. At least Mandragora still carried within her a sense of duty to the Tara people.

Loughshinny had learned from Earl Warwick about the long and bitter history between Victoria and Tara—the conflicts, the politics, the fragile present. Originally, both she and Eblana were meant to carry the weight of that legacy. But Eblana had made a one-sided decision: to shield Loughshinny from Victoria's political vortex.

There were two sides to this. On one hand, Eblana wanted to protect her sister from becoming another tool of the system—another cold and calculating political figure. She didn't want Loughshinny to be stained by the same darkness. But on the other hand, by sending Loughshinny away and claiming the position of rightful heir for herself, Eblana showed ambition. Maybe she did love her sister, but becoming a monarch meant cutting ties with family sentiment.

After all, emperors and princes always fought for the throne. In royalty, affection rarely survives. Not between father and son, and certainly not between sisters.

"Teacher… I think joining the military academy might bring you trouble," Loughshinny said softly. "I've always been interested in military affairs, but since my sister has chosen that path, I don't think I can help her in that way anymore."

"Loughshinny, do you want to learn something else? To complement your sister instead of mirroring her? To support her in a different way?"

"...Yes, Teacher. That's what I've been thinking."

Felix nodded and raised a finger. "No matter where you end up, or what name you live under on this land called Terra, you won't survive on literature alone. And you, Loughshinny—you carry a special identity. You're Draco-blooded, and you wield a rare and beautiful flame. Not cultivating that would be a waste. I won't always be around to protect you, so you'll need to learn martial arts and Originium arts. I'll find some proper, strict mentors for you."

He paused, then added, "As for literature... Loughshinny, I'm starting an organization."

Her eyes lit up.

"Teacher… how can I help?"

Her voice was soft but sincere. She truly wanted to help the one person who had supported her without asking anything in return. Since he'd brought it up, she didn't hesitate to offer her hand.

"A company, or an organization, is like a small country," Felix explained. "I need your help. Or rather—I want to guide you in how to manage one. A company has departments, like a government has ministries: industry, defense, diplomacy, education. And a company has factions too—those who join early, like the 'Dragon Faction,' and those who arrive later, like the 'Outsiders.' It's a lot like the Victorian aristocracy, with all its alliances and rivalries. Except, of course, we're not including Tara's nobility in that comparison."

Loughshinny's eyes widened. She'd never heard Felix explain something so complex in such a simple and vivid way. He made the operations of a nation—or a business—sound practical and understandable.

"Teacher Felix… thank you. I'll study hard. I promise."