Arknights: The Life Inside-Chapter 78

On the fourth day after the passenger ship left, a Colombian medium-sized vessel sailed across the tranquil sea. With nothing but the sun overhead and endless waves stretching to the horizon, the scene was pure and boundless.

Blue—flawless, transparent, quiet. The only color the sea allows itself, as if nature had ordained it so in the first place.

Standing on the deck, Yoren took a sip from a bottle of mineral water, letting the sea breeze wash over him. He looked relaxed, but these past four days had been anything but easy. Seasickness had hit him hard.

At first, when he boarded the ship, he felt fine. But by late night, nausea overwhelmed him, and he rushed from his bunk to the toilet. For two days straight, Yoren lay in his cabin like a discarded husk, the world tilting endlessly around him. He couldn't keep anything down, vomiting again and again until there was nothing left.

At first, Snowsant stayed by his side, worried. But after a while, unable to bear the constant retching sounds, she quietly slipped away, taking Ifrit with her to explore the deck all around.

ACE, ever dependable, checked in on him. A brief examination later, he reassured Yoren that it wasn't food poisoning or an illness—just ordinary seasickness. "You'll get used to it in a couple of days," he said before heading to the deck to join Snowsant and the others.

Aside from sleeping, Yoren barely saw them. He lay there, feeling like a sick and lonely old man, groaning to himself in misery. The only ones who kept him company were the Pu brothers from the next cabin. Loyal to a fault, Prue often dropped by to chat, while his younger brother, Puda, brought him fresh fruit from the ship's restaurant.

By the third day, fortune finally favored him. He woke up to find the nausea gone. His body had adapted. The rocking of the ship no longer tormented him; instead, it felt like the slow rhythm of a dance floor. He had survived.

Now, on the fourth day, Yoren had changed into a floral shirt, wearing the bracelet Hemer had given him on his left wrist and the Originium bracelet from her on his right. Standing by the railing, he looked the part of a man enjoying a luxurious cruise—though it would've been more convincing if the mineral water in his hand were a glass of wine.

After four days at sea, he had no idea where they were. The crew no longer restricted the passengers' movements. Most of these so-called stowaways were people of means, some even influential figures. In Colombia, even criminals were treated with a certain level of dignity—unless they had committed something truly heinous, why would they resort to illegal border crossings?

The sea stretched endlessly, the salty breeze filling his lungs. For the first time in a while, Yoren let himself relax, feeling as if he were on vacation.

That was when ACE joined him on the deck. Wearing sunglasses, he leaned against the railing and asked, "How are you holding up? No more dizziness?"

Though they had spoken many times before, Yoren suddenly felt a wave of reassurance at hearing ACE's voice.

"Yeah, I'm completely fine now. Thanks for looking after Snowsant and the others."

ACE chuckled. "That's my job. I promised to get you to Victoria safely."

"Mm."

ACE turned his gaze toward the endless horizon, his expression tinged with melancholy. "I thought I could protect more people," he admitted. "But in the end, I couldn't even save my own brothers. They didn't die, but they contracted Oripathy... and I could do nothing. That feeling of helplessness... I don't know if you understand. But to me, it was worse than becoming infected myself."

Yoren did understand. Just like when he had to choose between himself and Aina—he had feared her infection far more than his own. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com

"Brother ACE, it wasn't your fault."

ACE let out a bitter laugh. "I know. I don't blame myself. But to be honest... I ran away."

He had said something similar before, on the night they drank together. But this time, he was sober. Perhaps that meant he had finally come to terms with it.

Staring at the sea, ACE spoke in a low voice. "Anger, despair, helplessness... all of that raged inside me. But more than anything, I was afraid. Not of dying, not of becoming infected... but of witnessing it happen again. I was afraid of being a mercenary, afraid of forming those bonds again. So, I ran. I went to Bra City, gave up being a mercenary, and became just another delivery guy."

"...Brother ACE."

ACE shook his head. "I thought I could forget everything. Live an ordinary life. Steady job, drinks with old friends, no more Originium conflicts, no more familiar faces."

He took off his sunglasses, exhaling deeply. "That's what I thought... until I saw you and Snowsant that night."

He turned to Yoren, a quiet smile on his face. "I don't know why you were in Bra City, but when I saw you in trouble, surrounded by military police, something inside me shifted. My body just moved on its own. I ran up without hesitation, grabbed you, and ran. And you know what? I laughed. Because in that moment, I realized—someone still needed me."

He looked at Yoren with sincerity. "That's when I decided. Before I completely fade into an ordinary life, I'll see this through. Getting you to Victoria safely—this is my final mission. The last mission of the [Death] team. The Death team never abandons its own."

The sea breeze carried his words away, and Yoren felt a tightness in his chest.

ACE had always been a dependable, steady presence. In the game's timeline, he had sacrificed himself in Chernobog to save Rhode Island. It had seemed like the act of an unshakable hero.

But now, Yoren understood. It wasn't just duty or courage—it was also redemption. It was his way of atoning for the comrades he couldn't save.

This was the real world of Terra. No one was born perfect. No matter what role they played, at their core, they were still people—flawed, struggling, and alive.

Looking at ACE's resolute face, Yoren made up his mind. ACE still carried that regret. If nothing changed, three years from now, he would find himself in the flames of Chernobog once more, repeating history.

But Yoren had the power to change things. And he would.

Facing the endless sea, he raised his fist.

"Brother ACE."

"Yeah?"

The next second, their fists—one large, one small—met in the air with a quiet but resolute impact.

"Brother ACE, you'll always be my big brother. And that's not just a title—it's a promise."

If you put aside personal emotions and look at the problem rationally, Yoren knows that although Brother ACE only appears in a few scenes, his existence is undeniably crucial. This is evident from the phrase players often say: "My life was given by Brother ACE." Since the Qiecheng riots, there has been no ACE in the world.

ACE was an important member of Rhodes Island. To put it bluntly, a world with ACE and a world without him are vastly different. Yoren has a hunch—if he wants to change history, this is a key moment.

Unconsciously, dark clouds gathered in the sky.

The soft sunlight disappeared, blocked by the overcast sky. The sea breeze, once gentle, turned chaotic. Yoren, standing on the deck, felt an increasing sense of unease and decided to step into the cabin with Brother ACE.

It was almost lunchtime, and Snowsant and Ifrit were off playing somewhere. Yoren and ACE ordered some random dishes in the passenger ship's restaurant and sat down to chat.

Having been seasick the entire trip, Yoren hadn't had the chance to discuss what would happen once they landed. Now, while waiting for their food, they needed to iron out some details.

According to the crew, their destination was Sunday, the largest port city on Victoria's west coast. But before that, the ship would make a short stop at Sanna, a small coastal town with a population of just tens of thousands. Unlike the heavily regulated major cities like Shendi, Sanna operated more like a smuggling hub. Most of the ship's illicit cargo and stowaways would disembark there.

ACE took a sip of his beer. "Yoren, have you thought about where you'll go after getting off in Sanna?"

"I... don't know yet. We do have an acquaintance in Victoria, introduced by a friend."

"Oh? You at least know which city they're in?"

"No idea."

Yoren reached into his pocket, feeling the slip of paper with a single phone number scribbled on it. This acquaintance was Hemer's second uncle.

From Hemer's tone that day, Yoren could tell—her second uncle wasn't a big shot, nor someone in power. To put it bluntly, he was just an ordinary person. That's why she hadn't insisted on Yoren reaching out sooner; she knew her uncle wouldn't be able to provide much beyond basic support.

"Brother ACE, the person we're looking for is an elder of a friend. We'll contact him once we arrive, but if we find a better way to survive, we might not even need to."

ACE nodded in understanding, then seemed to recall something. "By the way, weren't you planning to find the Glasgow Gang? You and Miss Vina are close, right?"

"I do need to find them, but I have no idea where Vina is. Do you have any way to contact her?"

ACE thought for a moment. "I don't know much about them. I rarely come to Victoria. The Glasgow Gang isn't like Black Steel. They're local, deeply rooted. Unless you've worked with them before, tracking them down will be difficult. They could be in Londinium or any other city. Victoria is just too big."

"That's what worries me." Yoren sighed. Victoria was one of the world's most powerful nations. If its gangs were easy to find, they wouldn't be worth much.

Finding them would require time, connections, or even just dumb luck. Perhaps they could post a missing person notice or gather information through local channels.

As they spoke, the dishes arrived. The ship's restaurant was better equipped than Yoren had expected. He had assumed they'd only have pre-packed meals, but there were actual cooked dishes. However, the prices were outrageous, and the taste was just passable.

Just then, a cheerful voice called out behind him.

"Brother Yoren, not seasick today?"

Turning around, Yoren saw the Platts brothers. They had come for lunch as well.

After days on the ship, Yoren had grown close to them, especially Puda, who was older than him but still insisted on calling him "Brother Yoren." It was a little embarrassing.

Yoren waved them over. "I'm feeling better today. Come, join us."

"Ah, is it okay?"

"Of course! Don't be polite. Sit."

After they settled in, Yoren poured them each a glass of beer. "We just ordered a few dishes. Order whatever you like—it's my treat today."

Then he called the waiter over. "Bring me a bottle of red wine. What's the most expensive one?"

The waiter leaned in. "The 30-year-old Victoria Collector's Edition—10,000 a bottle."

Yoren nearly choked. "Ahem... that expensive?"

Puda quickly intervened. "Forget the wine. We're fine with beer. No need to go overboard."

He ordered a few more dishes and sent the waiter away.

As soon as the waiter left, Yoren leaned toward Puda and whispered, "Old Pu, it's not that I think the wine is expensive—it's that I think it's fake. Did you notice? That waiter is the same crew member who brought us aboard. They don't even have real waitstaff. I'd bet the chef is also the captain."

"Yeah, I thought so too."

It made sense. This wasn't some luxury cruise. The food and drinks were passable at best, and nothing was what it seemed.

They clinked their glasses together and downed their beer in one go.

Then, Yoren smelled something strange.

It was faint—something between rotting plants and flower petals, with a sour undertone. He sniffed again. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was oddly... intoxicating.

"Ugh, what is that smell? Did someone light mosquito coils?"

"Smash!"

Before Yoren could finish, the sharp sound of glass shattering cut through the restaurant.

A woman in a long dress had collapsed, face-first. The wine glass she had been holding shattered, shards slicing deep into her pale face.

But what was even stranger—the man beside her, presumably her companion, stood motionless, eyes glazed over.

Yoren froze in his chair, stunned.

The woman staggered to her feet without a word, swaying in a trance.

"What the hell...?"

Yoren shot up from his seat, instincts screaming that something was wrong.

His eyes darted across the restaurant. The guests had stopped eating, stopped talking. They sat perfectly still, frozen in place, their eyes dull and empty. A suffocating silence filled the room.

Outside, the light dimmed further. A pale pink mist seeped in from the sea, curling through the cabin. The same scent he had noticed earlier.

The world felt eerily still.

A single drop of cold sweat trickled down Yoren's face.

Then—

"Woooo~~~"

A low, haunting sound drifted through the air. Distant, mournful, and inhuman.

It wasn't just a roar.

It was a call.