The in-depth communication with Lin Yuxia took much longer than Lucian had anticipated.
By the time he finally slipped out of her room and left the Slums behind, the clock had already ticked past two in the morning.
Unlike the suffocating, pitch-black labyrinth of the Slums, Lungmen’s prosperous urban center was a beast that never slept.
Neon lights bled into the midnight fog, and holographic shop signs flickered against the dark skyline.
Lucian, having spent the last few hours handling stomach-churning political realities with the Rat King’s daughter, suddenly realized his stomach was completely empty.
He let out a long breath, watching it mist in the cool air.
“Well, I already told Exusiai I’d be late.
A little later won’t hurt, right?
Man…
Lungmen’s problems are a massive headache.” Listening to Lin Yuxia’s burdens had weighed heavily on him.
Still, he was genuinely glad she had chosen him to vent to.
The Mouse Princess was entirely too serious for her own good.
Given her strained dynamic with her father, she would rather bite off her own tongue than reveal these vulnerabilities to Old Lin.
If she kept bottling up her frustrations, that fixation would only fester—and it would be disastrous if some cunning old fox took advantage of her emotional state.
Lucian had received his fair share of favors from this city.
Whether it was the Slums or the glittering upper districts, he had people he cared for and people he couldn’t stand.
Viewing the two factions as irreconcilable enemies was too extreme; he just had to find a way to bridge the gap.
Pushing open the glass doors of a 24-hour convenience store, the chime echoing in the quiet aisle, he muttered to himself.
“Everyone’s got their own mess.
If this were Laterano, I could solve it with just one sentence…” “Solve?
Solve what?
Be honest now, why could you solve it with just one sentence?” Lucian answered on pure reflex.
“Why even ask?
Because I’m a go— Huh?” He snapped his mouth shut just before the forbidden word slipped out, his heart skipping a beat.
The questioning voice had been so casual, laced with a natural authority that practically demanded an honest answer, that he had almost exposed his biggest secret.
Pivoting on his heel, Lucian found himself face-to-chest with a woman.
She was already taller than him, but factoring in the sharp, imposing horn rising from her forehead, she towered over him.
The tall woman flashed a devilishly handsome smile and pressed a freezing can of beer directly against his cheek.
“I saw a highly suspicious Sankta spacing out the second I walked in.
Thought I might need to bring him in for an interrogation.
So, you’re a what?
A priest?” “…I, uh, I guess so?
Yeah, back in Laterano, I was basically a priest.
But memorizing the scriptures was way too much of a hassle, so I bolted.” Lucian, seizing the out, nodded vigorously and swallowed his lingering guilt.
He offered the cool, imposing beauty a theatrical salute.
“Long time no see, Officer Hoshiguma.
Or is Big Sister Oni better?” Within the Lungmen Guard Department, there was a rather famous running joke.
Ch’en was the fierce dragon, and Swire was the wealthy cat—well, technically a tiger.
Both were stunningly beautiful women, yet they mixed like oil and water, practically drawing weapons the second they made eye contact.
The sight of two high-ranking beauties spewing Lungmen’s crudest street slang had become a signature spectacle within the L.G.D., affectionately dubbed the Dragon-Tiger Battle.
But that moniker had a second half.
The full title was Dragon-Tiger Battle, Oni’s Bane.
Ch’en was the dragon.
Swire was the tiger.
And the ‘Oni’ was Hoshiguma.
With her striking green hair and towering stature, Hoshiguma was an Oni hailing from Higashi.
She was an Elite Operator in the L.G.D.’s Special Task Force, technically two ranks below Senior Superintendent Ch’en.
Despite the hierarchy, their personal bond was ironclad, and she frequently served as the sole peacemaker capable of separating Ch’en and Swire.
Of course, her reputation as the L.G.D.’s top physical powerhouse wasn’t just for show.
As the rational, cool-headed big sister, Hoshiguma preferred to use her words.
But when diplomacy failed, her fists easily transcended rank—and that was the true meaning of the Oni’s Bane.
She was also one of Lucian’s oldest acquaintances, the very first woman he had actually clicked with upon arriving in Lungmen.
“Come in.
Slippers are in the usual spot, grab them yourself.” “Understood.” Lucian offered another mock salute and followed her into her apartment.
Hoshiguma rented a cheap, modest place on the city’s outskirts.
A single-room apartment seemed a bit too spartan for a single woman of her status, but it suited her pragmatic personality perfectly.
Lucian had been here plenty of times.
Moving with practiced familiarity, he pulled his slippers from the rack by the door and glanced around.
“This place hasn’t changed a bit since my last visit.
Only two pairs of guest slippers…
Is this one exclusively mine?” “Dream on,” Hoshiguma laughed, her voice a rich, throaty sound.
“They’re just for guests.
Ch’en wears those too when she comes over.
But since you and she are the only ones who ever visit my place, I suppose you could call them exclusive.” Lucian shook his head, clicking his tongue.
“Big Sister Oni, you’re still such a shut-in.
What would you do without me and Ch’en?
You’d truly be friendless!
Ouch!
Hey, that horn actually hurts!” Hoshiguma had simply leaned down, bringing her hard Oni horn against his forehead like a judge’s gavel.
It stung far worse than Swire or Lin Yuxia pinching his cheeks.
Big Sister Hoshiguma’s lips curled into a dangerous smirk.
“How many times have I told you not to call me Big Sister Oni?
Do you want me to start calling you Lucian-boy?” Lucian waved his hands frantically.
“Please, spare me.
It’s bad enough that Old Lin and the other geezers call me that.
It’s way too embarrassing.” Hoshiguma gave an amused snort.
She effortlessly swung the three heavy cases of beer off her shoulder and set them on the floor.
For the record, Lucian had carried two cases, struggling with both hands, while Hoshiguma had hauled three with a single arm.
The sheer gap in physical strength was staggering.
Lucian’s male pride took a direct, critical hit, leaving him sulking by the entryway.
Completely ignoring his sudden melancholy, Hoshiguma dropped into a chair.
With a crisp pop, she cracked open a can.
“I hit up that convenience store for a drink after every night shift, but this is the first time I’ve bumped into you.
What are you doing wandering around here in the dead of night?
This is a long way from your place.
Did Penguin Logistics stir up trouble again?” Lucian offered a deflective smile.
“We aren’t taking an official statement right now, Big Sister Hoshiguma, are we?
If I said I just came to see you, would you believe me?” “Drink, and I’ll believe you.” Hoshiguma, having already drained her first can, crushed the aluminum in her grip until it was a perfectly flat disc ready for recycling.
She then smoothly popped two more open, one in each hand, and extended one toward him.
The invitation was absolute, carrying a lethal kind of charm.
Lucian had no choice but to take it.
“I really think this culture of pressuring people to drink is a toxic habit we need to leave in the past.
As upstanding youths of a new era, we should be allowed to choose our beverages voluntarily and independently…” Hoshiguma tilted her head back, taking a long pull, her eyes tracking him over the rim.
“So?
You don’t want to voluntarily drink my beer?” “Vo-vo-voluntary!
I am incredibly voluntary!” Pinned under Hoshiguma’s half-smile, Lucian hastily chugged the can, suppressing a burp.
Hoshiguma didn’t say another word.
She just cracked open a fresh one and shoved it into his hand.
“Keep going.” Lucian’s eye twitched.
“Big Sister Hoshiguma, why do you always make me drink so much?” Hoshiguma took a slow sip, holding up three fingers.
“First, only you and Ch’en actually have the guts to drink with me.
Second, it’s significantly easier to pry information out of you when you’re drunk.
Third, it makes me happy.” Lucian let out a long, resigned sigh, staring at the foam bubbling at the rim of his can.
“So the primary goal is just to interrogate me…
Well, as long as you’re happy.” Sometimes, a man really just couldn’t say no.
[Rhodes’s Note: Higashi is the Arknights universe’s equivalent to Japan, known for its traditional culture and being the homeland of the Oni race.] [Rhodes’s Note: Enjoying the operation so far, Doctor?
(This daily grind literally pays the landship’s rent!
to use the links!)