Arknights: I became an NPC in the online game

The mercenaries never used their real names—only code names. It seemed they had long abandoned their former identities. Much like the so-called Kazdel Empire itself, they waited for opportunities in a lawless land where the one who paid was the one in charge.

This "settlement"—if it could even be called that—hardly fit the term. Settlements implied a group of people rooted in one place over time. This was more like a gathering of nomads, like those Felix had read about, moving wherever there was water and food.

With a handgun at his waist glinting coldly and Degenbrecher beside him, casting sharp glances both deliberate and incidental, conversations weren't as difficult to initiate as one might expect.

Felix learned that this camp was a mission hub for mercenaries. It was called Scar Market. Here, as long as you had money, you could buy anything—supplies, weapons, equipment… even issue a kill order on someone. In essence, it was no different from a black market.

"So, I can buy intelligence here too?"

The mercenary, wearing a playful grin, nodded as he rubbed his fingers together. "Depends on how valuable the information is. Some are cheap. Others… might cost you extra."

"Which direction is the undead camp?"

At that, the mercenary's expression changed. "You want to go looking for those lunatics? What, your life too long and you're looking to shorten it?"

Felix flipped a Victorian gold coin on his finger. The mercenary sighed and patted his forehead. "Alright, alright. With money, you're the boss."

"Also, I'd like to hire a mercenary—preferably someone familiar with Kazdel's terrain," Felix added, frowning. "There are no road signs leading to Kazdel, and I haven't seen a single map. I'm afraid I'll just get lost wandering around."

The mercenary laughed. "No problem. Hold on, I'll go ask around."

As Felix watched him walk off, the light smile on his face faded. It was hard to believe—a Sankta and a Sarkaz standing together, laughing. If anyone else saw this scene, they'd probably think it was some satire filmed in a foreign country.

Thankfully, the Sarkaz gathered here belonged to the newer generation. They didn't carry the same deep-rooted hatred for the Sankta that the older soldiers did. Still, that didn't mean they were friendly. The two peoples had been neighbors for generations, with frequent friction between them. The fact that they didn't open fire on sight was already a sign of significant restraint and respect.

As for the three unlucky players who had gotten involved earlier, they were dragged away by the mercenaries. Their injuries weren't serious, but their pride had taken a heavy hit.

After a short wait, the mercenary returned with a set of identification tags—similar to dog tags—and handed Felix a hastily scribbled map. Felix reached behind him and retrieved a purse.

The mercenary counted the contents—around two thousand Victorian banknotes. A decent little profit.

These dog tags were engraved with each mercenary's age and combat experience, but bore no photographs—after all, in Kazdel, a pretty face couldn't buy food or equipment.

"Ul...šulah. That's the one."

Felix glanced over the list and found no names he recognized from his previous life—none except Ulšulah. He remembered seeing her mentioned by a player who had been blacksmithing at the time. For an NPC to be talked about in the forums, they had to stand out—whether for their strength, personality, or goals. Without hesitation, Felix flipped over Ulšulah's card.

The mercenary shrugged and returned to the camp without comment. As far as he was concerned, money talked.

Before long, he came back with a woman in tow—long pink hair, clad in mercenary gear and light armor.

Felix wasn't someone who underestimated women; he had a powerful female bodyguard at his side, after all. Still, he couldn't help but sigh. To think that the forums weren't exaggerating—those Players really had a thing for beautiful women.

"I'm Ulšulah. I specialize in stealth, reconnaissance, and assassination," she introduced herself calmly. "What's the mission?"

Felix tossed a purse to the smooth-talking mercenary and waved him off. The man grinned, pocketed his agency fee, and left without a word.

Facing Ulšulah, Felix said, "I need someone familiar with Kazdel's terrain. Your task is to make sure I don't lose my way while I'm here."

Ulšulah frowned slightly. "What's your objective?"

Felix gave her a puzzled look. Realizing her tone had been too direct, Ulšulah cleared her throat, clenched her fist lightly, and coughed into it. "Apologies... It's just, my employer is a Sankta…"

"Not every Sankta sets foot in Terra with the goal of slaughtering the Sarkaz," Felix replied evenly. "I'm just a businessman. I have no interest in invading Kazdel."

"My apologies," Ulšulah said, bowing slightly.

When they returned to the pickup truck, the three players inside watched in stunned silence. The Sankta pioneer had gone to negotiate with the enemy—and came back with a beautiful Sarkaz woman. Were they witnessing arrogance… or charm so powerful that it disarmed even the opposition?

Where did this confidence come from? The answer was simple: money.

Felix planned to stay in Kazdel until year's end, and Ulšulah would naturally be accompanying him throughout. For now, he had only paid her a deposit; the rest would be paid monthly. When Felix showed her his account balance, Ulšulah was stunned by the sea of zeros following the number.

It was the most money she had ever seen in her life.

And yet, thinking of Kazdel's fate and the plight of the Sarkaz people, her heart sank. That she had to bow her head to a Sankta—for money—left a bitter taste.

"This is Ulšulah, a mercenary from Scar Market. She'll be accompanying us while we're in Kazdel," Felix introduced her to the players and to Senomi, who was sitting quietly in the last row.

"Just sit next to me and guide the way."

"Understood, employer."

There was no signal in Kazdel. It was ironic—this country supposedly had a mobile city with communications, yet out here, the silence was total. Felix casually put on a record he'd bought back in Columbia and hummed softly along with the tune.

Ulšulah had relaxed somewhat from her initial tension, but she was still visibly cautious. It wasn't because of Felix himself—but because of the blonde Caprinae woman sitting behind him with a faint, unreadable smile on her lips. Ulšulah had the distinct feeling that if she made even the slightest move against her employer, her neck would snap before she could blink.

The Zalak girl sitting next to the Caprinae seemed especially pitiful. Whenever Ulšulah's gaze wandered over, the girl would curl into herself, head tucked between her knees like a frightened animal.

"Why are you scaring the kid? Take back your murderous aura."

Felix was clearly displeased. The mercenary he had hired was now intimidating his future maid and secretary.

The corners of the Caprinae's mouth lifted slightly. Ulšulah looked genuinely confused—she had merely glanced over. How was that murderous?

The battlefield of the undead lay far from the main conflict zone. It was no surprise—both factions wanted to keep their cannon fodder as far away as possible, fearing collateral damage to their own forces. Though Felix had a map, its coordinates and details were imprecise. With Ulšulah's guidance, however, they were able to confirm their direction and began their journey toward the battlefield.

Night fell, and there were no supply points or villages nearby. Felix lit a bonfire beside the pickup truck, and the group gathered around it for a short rest. At some point, Ulšulah noticed that the three players in the back had vanished.

"Are you working with the undead?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Do you know anything about them?" Felix asked, intrigued.

Ulšulah gave a slight nod. Sitting upright, she accepted a cup of hot water from Degenbrecher and murmured a polite thank you. From her refined posture and manners, it was hard to imagine she was a mercenary. She held the cup with both hands for warmth and began softly, "Scar Market is an information hub. From what I've heard from mercenaries who've fought the undead... they vanish in white light when killed—then reappear. They usually move in groups. Sometimes, even when they're not dead, they just... disappear."

"…"

Felix found the summary surprisingly accurate. When killed, wasn't it just a respawn timer? And disappearing without dying... probably meant logging off.

"What's your opinion of the undead?"

Ulšulah paused for a long moment, then answered calmly, "They're terrifying foreigners. If they were trained properly, they'd become the sharpest blades."

"In fact," Felix said thoughtfully, "that's exactly what's happening in the Civil War."

Senomi had fallen asleep by the fire, leaning gently into its warmth. Felix reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face. She trembled slightly in her sleep, likely reliving something dark from her past.

With a nod to Degenbrecher, the blonde Caprinae stood up, carefully picked up Senomi, and carried her back to the vehicle. She covered the girl with a blanket and sat nearby.

"What do you think about Kazdel's future?"

What did boys usually talk about late at night in the dorms? Class beauties, school crushes, dumb stories that made everyone laugh—and lofty ideals.

Ulšulah's expression shifted slightly.

"I'm speaking from the standpoint of an outsider, not as a Sankta," He said quietly. "Right now, there are only two possible ways for Kazdel to restart."

"Which two?" Ulšulah asked.

She hugged her knees, her golden eyes fixed on the flames. It was as if fire flickered deep within them.

Felix responded, "The first is to concentrate all military power—to challenge the other nations head-on. Use war to buy Kazdel a chance to breathe, to rebuild through conflict. That approach... reminds me of the old Ursus Empire."

He paused, then continued, "The second is to unite all Sarkaz. Save every Sarkaz, every infected, every oppressed person. But that path is far more difficult. Even if it succeeds, the end result would be nothing more than another ordinary country—still looked down on by the Terrans."

Ulšulah pursed her lips, staring vacantly into the fire.

"On one hand, there are the scars of war. On the other, coexistence. I wonder what path the Sarkaz will choose now."

"Is there a third way?"

Felix let out a soft hum, raising his head to gaze at the star-filled sky. "I'm not interested in the civil war between the two monarchs. But I dare say this—when the Sarkaz no longer need iron-fisted rulers like Theresis or Theresa, that's when they'll truly be free. In the end, they must be the ones to liberate themselves."

"…"

Ulšulah remained silent. Then she stood up, drinking the water that had grown lukewarm. "I'll go on patrol. I'll stand guard tonight."

The pink-haired girl turned and walked off briskly into the darkness. Degenbrecher returned to the fire, a faint smile on her lips.

"Do you always like saying such profound things?" she asked lightly. "That mercenary girl is probably about your age."

"That's exactly why," Felix replied. "Because Kazdel's future now rests in the hands of this generation—this group of young people. The old relics in the court? They've lost their relevance."

He took a sip of water and sighed. "The civil war won't end anytime soon. There has to be a victor between the brother and sister. But what comes after? Only two paths: either rebuild through war or through unity. Honestly, I believe war can solve it all—unify Kazdel through force."

"As a race that lives with Originium, the Sarkaz have faced nothing but discrimination across this land. They've been away from home for so long, they've forgotten what 'home' even means. That's why they need war—a brutal war that reminds them of who they are, and unites them as one people."

Degenbrecher chuckled. "Boss, are you saying you want to get involved in the civil war? Even I couldn't protect you if the royal court's Sarkaz kings came down on us."

Felix laughed and swore. "As if I'd throw away my life like that. Those ancient monsters in the royal court are hundreds of years old. What could I possibly do against them?"

"Maybe," Degenbrecher murmured, "there will be a king someday... who unites the Sarkaz at last."

Felix let out a long breath and stood up. "Get some rest too. Save your strength."

"Understood."

No further words were exchanged that night.

---

The next day, Ulšulah continued guiding Felix along the route. It was as if their conversation the previous night had never happened. The dynamic between them remained unchanged—that of employer and mercenary. Neither distant nor close, just appropriately professional.

During a short break, Felix casually browsed the forums and noticed a livestream post pinned to the top. It had garnered a huge number of replies, so he clicked on it out of curiosity.

"Hey fam, anyone else experiencing this? It's really easy to find work in Ursus. Not long after we entered a town, we asked a noble for a job. Turns out, it was a mining gig. Lucky for us, both of us picked the miner subclass. Talk about good timing!"

The replies flooded in beneath the post:

"Damn, they're paying that much? The Ursus Empire's really that generous?"

"Was it a high-level NPC? Since when are nobles so easy to deal with?"

"Don't go! I'm serious—don't go! If you do, you'll end up infected!"

Felix paused at that last comment. Someone had apparently already fallen into the trap and gotten infected—but their warning had quickly been buried beneath the flood of responses.

The corner of Felix's mouth twitched. So the same plotline had appeared in this life, too. Players really were made to be mercenaries—dangle enough rewards in front of them, and they'd jump straight into the fire.

"The battlefield ahead is where the two armies are clashing…" Ulšulah warned from the passenger seat.

But Felix didn't lift his foot off the accelerator. Seeing this, Ulšulah's composure broke.

"H-Hey! What are you doing? You're going to get us killed!"

"Are you afraid of the undead?" Felix asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ulšulah gritted her teeth. "If you're not afraid of their endless vengeance, then neither am I. Because you're my employer."

Felix smiled.

The engine roared—and they surged forward into the battlefield.