While back in Lungmen, Felix began catching up on Anthony's reports. He also met with Nine — now the head of the mercenary division. After years on the front lines, Felix felt she should move to the command seat; she was better suited to directing from behind than slogging at the tip of the spear.
Beyond Nine, the Transport Department under Emperor had expanded rapidly. Transport work didn't require top-tier combat skill, so it was the second most popular place among players. The department had even attracted bounty hunters looking to hang up their blades and do steady work. Felix was pleased to learn that Emperor had found "Croissant," who'd been job-hunting in Lungmen, and had contacted "Monster Siren Record" — reuniting the idol nicknamed "Sora" who'd been affected by racial backlash.
At Felix's request the four of them formed a small squad — the old Penguin Logistics crew reassembled in this life too. It was almost moving. Tears, really.
Other posts ran smoothly. Tomorrow's Development had quietly shifted its center of gravity to Kazdel; Anthony understood this and would manage Lungmen's affairs and keep regular contact with Wei Yenwu. The organization under Felix's banner was now overflowing with talent — and yet Felix's appetite kept growing. If possible, he wanted to recruit the whole world, plaster hiring notices across every street and alley.
Evenings became a test: sometimes one visit, sometimes two, sometimes three — the worst nights even four or five. There was an eighty- to ninety-percent chance these nights were coordinated "retribution" stunts.
Senomi, Mandragora, and Little Susie still had a few years before university graduation, but they'd already learned enough to be useful. Felix waved his hand and had them join Tomorrow's Development in Lungmen. Kazdel was off-limits for now — too dangerous. They recommended classmates, too; Felix passed resumes to HR and let the personnel team handle the gossip.
At the end of September he ran into Mostima after a while. Dusty from travel, she showered and plopped onto Felix's bed with news.
"The Pope knows," she said. "I didn't expect otherwise."
"Then, who's the one giving him headaches?" Felix asked.
"Arturia," Mostima answered, amused. When she'd mentioned Felix's actions in Kazdel to the Pope, the Pope hadn't shown anger so much as concern — and when Arturia came up, the Pope had stated plainly how dangerous Arturia was.
"What's the Pope's stance?" Felix asked.
"For now… laissez-faire." Mostima relaxed against his chest, fingers tracing his skin as she listened to his heartbeat. "I think the Pope understands what you're doing. He's not alarmed. At least right now, only he knows the full picture; the cardinals don't."
"I thought I was already on Laterano's blacklist," Felix snorted, self-deprecating.
Mostima smiled and passed along a message from the Pope: "I cannot judge whether what you do is right or wrong. Be at peace with your conscience. As long as your halo still shines and your creed still guides you, you need not fear the future."
Felix understood. For now, the Church would watch — an experiment in restraint. Previous Popes had been iron-fisted warmongers; conflicts with Kazdel had erupted dozens of times. Under the current Pope, however, war had become rarer; these years were unusually peaceful. That didn't mean Laterano was monolithic. Sankta are not saints; cardinals split into hawks and purists. Some, like the "pure-blood" faction, believed Laterano's supremacy demanded harsh correction of other races — especially the "filthy, fallen" Sarkaz. Their dream was to seize Kazdel and purge all Sarkaz.
Felix's plan was simpler: stabilize Kazdel, let it recover, give its people a chance to choose their future. If he could make that work, the rest — the critics, the slanders — would collapse on their own.
Damn! General Theresis himself would be proud of him!
"Felix," Mostima asked, eyes fixed on her lover, "what are you planning to do next?"
"For now," Felix said calmly, "we maintain relations with Laterano. Laterano needs to preserve its transcendent status — its legitimacy and divinity on Terra depend on that. Kazdel can go to war with Laterano, but peace or alliance? Impossible. That would shatter Laterano's prestige completely."
Mostima nodded slowly. "No wonder the Pope looked like he wanted nothing to do with it."
"The terran heart is unpredictable," Felix murmured.
Currently, Mostima served not only as a Messenger but also as a Catastrophe Messenger. After discussing matters with Lemuen, Lemuel, and the newly renamed "One-Armed Chainsaw" Fiammetta, she and Fiammetta decided to head to the Frontier District to handle reconnaissance and reporting, while Lemuen would travel between Lungmen and the new development sectors.
———
October approached — the time of the annual Kazimierz Major. Rhodes Island's business negotiations in Lungmen were wrapping up, so Felix took Amiya's hand and declared he would bring her to watch the tournament — something "all children love."
ACE gave him a look of pure disbelief. Children love it? More like you do, Felix.
Kal'tsit's expression remained cool, until Amiya reached out a small hand to her. With a sigh of surrender, Kal'tsit agreed to come along — though she insisted she wouldn't go inside the arena.
As if Felix would ever lack the money for tickets. In fact, he was already a Platinum Supreme Premium VIP of the Kazimierz Chamber of Commerce. Every four years he returned to spend a fortune there — though this time, after another four-year absence, people were beginning to wonder if he'd vanished.
Then, just like that — he arrived. That very night, Felix, Amiya, and two others landed in the Kawalerielki. The Chamber of Commerce's reception staff beamed so wide their smiles nearly split their faces. They whisked the group into the most luxurious suite atop the city's grandest hotel — even booking a presidential suite for Felix and Kal'tsit. My, my! When did Boss Felix start traveling with such a beautiful maid?
You people— don't make it weird!
Seeing Kal'tsit's face darken by the second, Felix quickly waved his hands. "I can stay with the adorable Amiya! Kal'tsit, you and ACE can each have your own room."
Unfortunately, fate — and Kal'tsit — had other plans. After two rounds of rock-paper-scissors, which Felix lost spectacularly, Amiya ended up rooming with Kal'tsit. Felix, true to form, was left sharing a room with ACE.
Truly, the luck of an E-rank…
Kal'tsit, as Amiya's guardian, watched her closely — not to the point of stifling her, but she insisted on accompanying her in anything remotely dangerous or adventurous.
After the New Year, Tomorrow's Development had established a small liaison branch here in the Kawalerielki. The player who spent the most time stationed there was none other than MagicZX.
The local NPC staff included knights who had once fought alongside Tomorrow's Development. Many knight associations had been purged by the Chamber of Commerce after that chaotic rainy night years ago, and some of their surviving members had turned to Felix's organization for direction.
The Chamber of Commerce knew Felix's temperament well — a golden patron, returning every four years to lavishly throw money around, and a self-professed knight enthusiast. Some merchants even began considering whether to "train" beautiful young female knights as marketable idols — not just for Felix, but for the many wealthy nobles who might take interest.
When this year's Major began, organizers were unsettled not to have heard word of the "Pioneer's" arrival. But the moment Felix's aircraft descended from the sky, relief swept through them like a storm. The patron has arrived! they cheered inwardly. Thank the heavens!
Instead of heading straight to business talks with the Chamber of Commerce executives, Felix first made for the Nearl family estate.
The old pegasus knight had passed away. Margaret, the eldest sister, was traveling across Kazdel with her fellow followers. Young Maria was likely with her aunt, Zofia. Now, the Nearl estate stood silent — only the family's knights remained at their posts, loyal and solemn.
"At this hour, uncle's probably still working…" Felix sighed. "A true corporate slave."
Finding no one home, he decided against traveling all the way to Zofia's residence. Instead, he hailed a cab to Goldenfeather Avenue, to a familiar street corner and a familiar bar.
"I thought you weren't coming this year," said Bald Martin, sliding a freshly mixed martini across the counter. "This year's Major's… quite different."
"Oh?" Felix asked. "How so?"
"Out of the forty-eight knights who qualified this time, five are Infected."
Felix raised a brow. "I recall the Infected weren't allowed to compete before, weren't they?"
"Seems the higher-ups changed their minds," Martin said dryly. "After all, Infected fights are… bloodier."
He smirked faintly — the kind of smirk that said it's all for the spectacle.
The old knight let out a couple of low grunts. "They're just trying to whet the crowd's appetite. Infected knights might be able to use Originium Arts without external casting units, but their stamina burns out fast. If the match drags on, they'll just end up as bleeding targets."
"The arena's going to be bloodier than ever," Felix added.
The old craftsman clapped Felix on the shoulder. "That's exactly the point — the bloodier it gets, the crazier the tourists get for tickets."
"So then," the knight asked with a grin, "which knight's caught your eye this year? I heard from Zofia that last time you didn't just leave with Margaret, but also ran off with Foam and Verdant, those two tournament darlings?"
"Naturally," Felix replied, smiling faintly. "I came this year for a full-scale recruitment drive. Tomorrow's Development needs manpower — desperately."
At that, Bald Martin handed him the event booklet for this year's tournament. Felix flipped through it briefly. Every name and face was new. He didn't bother memorizing them — instead, he decided he'd just buy out the top three winners directly. Money talks, and it speaks loudest when you're rich enough to skip the games entirely.
Then, one photo made him pause. A towering, red-armored man, his entire form radiating a crushing intensity — even the still image seemed to carry weight.
"The Blood Knight…" Felix murmured, tapping the picture with a finger. "Looks strong. Hm… I like him already."
The others leaned in, making appreciative noises.
"Oh, I remember him," said Martin. "The Blood Knight — an Infected competitor."
"Then I like him even more."
"…Right, I forgot your Tomorrow's Development recruits Infected folk," the knight said with a helpless chuckle.
As Felix continued browsing, his eyes landed on another photo — a female knight this time. Her expression was gentle, almost timid, without a hint of battle lust.
"And who's this?" Felix frowned. "I don't recall seeing her in past tournaments. A newcomer?"
"No idea," the old knight and craftsman replied at once, both shaking their heads. "Name's Viviana. Never heard of her before. Sure, she's pretty — but the Chamber of Commerce has more than enough decorative knights. Tourists don't come to the Kawalerielki just to look at pretty faces. They come to see those same pretty faces punch each other senseless! That's what sells tickets!"
Even so, Felix found something familiar about her. Not attraction — recognition. He couldn't place where he'd seen her before. Maybe she joined Rhodes Island later in his previous life? Or maybe she had a story that intersected his own somewhere along the line.
Still, he decided he'd let fate decide. Forcing things never ended well. If this young knight was standing at a turning point in her life, barging in now could ruin that moment entirely.
"It's been a while," Martin said, raising a glass. "Drink?"
"Drink," Felix grinned. "Tonight's on me. We don't go home sober."
"Now that's what I like to hear!"
Martin downed a shot himself, then gave Felix a mischievous look. "So… how's it going with your lovely little sister?"
"Which one?"
"—!"
"You sly bastard," the old knight barked a laugh. "You've gone and done what most men wouldn't even dare to think!"
A pause later, he grew mock-serious. "But you're being too restrained."
"...What?"
"Think about it! You're not short on money. The slave markets here are thriving. If you wanted, you could buy an entire manor staffed with servants."
He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Didn't you already buy one before?"
Felix waved his hand dismissively. "That's not me. I'm a man of pure love — pure love, you hear me?"
"Yeah, yeah," the others scoffed in unison, clearly unconvinced.
They drank on — from five in the evening to seven at night — two straight hours, yet all four of them looked perfectly fine by the end. Truly, the iron-livered men of Sigma.
"Ah," Martin sighed, "I envy you. A man with a sister who doesn't nag you. I've got a friend — got married and now he's completely whipped."
"I've got one too," Felix said, his breath heavy with alcohol. "Every time he drinks, his wife makes him stand outside till he sobers up."
The old knight and craftsman exchanged a look of mutual relief. Thank goodness we never married.
Then, without warning, the door creaked open.
A small rabbit-eared girl stood in the doorway — bright-eyed, almost glowing with energy. Behind her stood a green-haired feline woman, mature and composed — a wife, unmistakably.
Bald Martin's eyes sharpened like an eagle's. "Well, well… whose wife and kid have come looking for their man this time?"