Arknights: Mobile City

"…Hey, Obsidian. Are you sure this is edible?"

As Obsidian was in the middle of creating his first Doubt, Texas sat staring at a roasted Sweeper, visibly uncertain. After a pause, she looked up and asked the question aloud.

There was just something about this thing that didn't sit right with her.

"Relax. If the head's off, it's safe to eat."

Obsidian answered casually, which only deepened Texas's confusion.

Meanwhile, his attention had already shifted entirely to the newly spawned Doubt before him.

In terms of combat power? It'd probably get flattened by a Sweeper in seconds. But hey—it was cheap.

As he thought this, Obsidian casually converted the previously collected Sweeper corpses into Lunacy. That netted him 300 Lunacy—but this time, he didn't rush to spend it summoning more Doubts.

Because doing that would've been a waste.

Lunacy was a premium resource. Doubts, on the other hand, could be manufactured by feeding large amounts of scrap metal into the well.

And through a proper factory setup, he could reduce the metal cost even further… though, for now, he didn't have the infrastructure to support that.

Which meant the next step was obvious.

Control this first Doubt manually, gather raw materials, and use them to produce more Doubts. Rinse and repeat. Multiply them generation after generation until he had an army. Once he had enough, he could begin clearing out the surrounding areas via good old-fashioned zerg rush.

Of course, Doubts weren't just for combat. Obsidian needed them for basic infrastructure too. At the very least, he needed to get a few livable shelters set up.

As for interacting with the outside world—that could wait. For now, nothing was pressing enough to demand outside help.

With that thought, Obsidian split a portion of his consciousness and attached it to the freshly spawned Doubt.

Instantly, his vision changed. A third-person viewpoint filled his retinal display. In the center of it: the clunky, spindly-limbed form of the robot he'd just created.

It was like playing a real-time strategy game.

The thought passed through his mind as he adjusted to the controls.

And so, a lone robot silently set out from the small wooden hut, embarking on its first expedition.

This version of the City might be stripped-down—no Wings, no native lifeforms, no Singularities—but the Outskirts were still rich in salvage.

Collapsed buildings were everywhere, and with them, plenty of debris: steel, bricks, timber, stone… As long as you looked, there was plenty to find.

As for the Sweepers, they had no interest in attacking something they couldn't eat. As long as he avoided indiscriminate-aggression monsters, resource gathering should be relatively safe.

Obsidian guided the Doubt to the nearest pile of rusted scrap. It reached out with its drill-like arms and began the painstaking work of scraping metal off the building.

An hour later, it finally pried loose a piece of steel large enough to qualify as a "resource."

Worth noting—Obsidian's ability to teleport items within the City wasn't unlimited. Oversized objects and living things were off-limits. But non-living items under a certain volume were automatically classified as resources—and those, he could move freely.

So he teleported the scrap to the well and tossed it in.

It would take about ten minutes to digest the metal and spit out another Doubt. That was fine. He had time to wait.

Meanwhile, Texas's roasted Sweeper was done. She sat silently, scarfing down the monster meat, mind drifting.

Maybe next time I'll try making soup.

Honestly? It didn't taste bad. She'd expected something horrifying, but it was surprisingly decent.

"…Aren't you going to eat?" she asked.

"Nah, I'm good. I've had enough Sweeper to last me a lifetime. I'll head out and hunt something on my own later," Obsidian said with a smile, politely declining.

Truth be told, watching Texas enjoy it so much made him kind of want a bite too…

If only he could eat.

Damn it—no eating! Get back to work!

Obsidian turned his hunger into fuel and launched himself back into full-on city-builder mode.

Before long, the second Doubt emerged from the well.

With that, Obsidian's Doubt-production speed had just doubled. After another hour of work, he had four of them.

Sure, four Doubts probably couldn't beat even one Sweeper—but the efficiency?

Unmatched.

Robots didn't eat, didn't sleep, and worked nonstop 24/7. Even the most heartless of capitalists would blush at that productivity.

Say what you want about their combat power, but in terms of labor efficiency, these things were top-tier Palworld material.

Once he had four, Obsidian made a decision: leave one at the hut for backup. That way, if the others got wiped, he wouldn't have to waste Lunacy to make more.

Then he issued direct commands: two Doubts continued their steel-scraping duties.

The last one? Sent into the ruins to loot every piece of wood in sight. It plundered each building like a swarm of locusts, sweeping everything clean.

The wood was for future construction—better to stock up now than regret later.

So while Texas sat in the hut, contentedly munching on roasted meat, Obsidian was back and forth like a man possessed, hauling planks nonstop.

Two hours later, the steel crew had doubled again. Four bots chipping away at debris, and Obsidian had hauled back nearly five tons of wood furniture.

Six Doubts, nearly five tons of wood, and a growing steel stockpile.

This was Obsidian's current asset list.

And every bit of it? Scraped off walls by those poor Doubts like oversized drill hands.

A heartfelt salute to the legendary laborer king: Doubt.

In fact, Obsidian was already daydreaming about future tech like [Green Noon · Comprehension Process]. That one could spawn chainsaws. The efficiency… delicious.

While Obsidian toiled joyfully, Texas had gotten so bored she was now strapping the identity card to her chest and practicing bashing things with the gun's wooden stock.

…Not gonna lie, this stock's actually decent quality wood.

Obsidian glanced up and stared at the gun in her hands.

I could probably strip that and use the wood as building material…

He shook the thought away with effort, but his bloodshot eyes betrayed him.

Texas shivered.

She turned to meet Obsidian's gaze—his eyes now rimmed red, filled with crazed resource-collector intensity.

At this point, he was half-mad from harvesting. Wood, steel—didn't matter. If it wasn't nailed down, he wanted to turn it into raw material.

He'd entered the phase known as loot fever.

Even red-eye mode had been activated.

Feeling deeply unnerved, Texas finally pulled back. After a moment's thought, she ended her identity state, stood up, and looked over at Obsidian.

"…Hey, Obsidian. Got anything you want me to help with?"