Arknights, I'm going to beat Kal'tsit, really?

Page 20

The Colombian night wind swirled fallen leaves, carrying a hint of coolness. Cellina had completed her internal deliberations, and her gaze returned to its tranquil state.

"I accept."

“Wise!” Zaro’s voice carried a hint of triumphant satisfaction.

"The contract is established. From this moment on, Syracuse's minions will no longer harass you. You can continue to be your... ordinary person. They will notify you when they need you." This was the "correct" attitude that Rupert should have when facing it! Zaro thought with satisfaction, glancing at Kane.

Noticing Zaro's gaze, Kane provocatively pointed the muzzle of his gun lightly at him.

"That damned... brat!" Zaro's anger raged, but he was powerless—the gap in strength was undeniable. But it didn't matter. As long as he won the future "wolf pack game" and devoured the other competitors... then he'd see if this kid would still be so arrogant!

Having achieved its goal, Zaro lingered no longer. The wolf silently sank into the shadows, undetectable even by the moonlight and surrounding lights. Zaro vanished without a trace; it had to return to the chessboard in Syracuse immediately.

Chapter 55 Legally Married

"Ha! That stupid dog tucked its tail between its legs and ran away!" The Emperor laughed loudly, splattering French fry crumbs everywhere.

"That's enough! Tonight's performance is enough for me to write ten songs to mock it!"

“The circus star is gone. Now, let’s talk about your purpose?” Kane turned to the Emperor, his gaze questioning. He and Cellina’s eyes were simultaneously fixed on the penguin. Simply “watching the show” wasn’t a very convincing excuse.

"Relax, guys!" The Emperor spread his wings, looking dashing and fearless.

“I’m not like that idiot Zarro who only has fighting on his mind! Music! Parties! Enjoying life! That’s what I, the Great Emperor, pursue!” It then pointed to Cellina and explained:

"As you can see, I'm the same kind of thing as it. But I have no interest in power struggles. So, Cellina Texas, how about working with me? I'm starting a logistics company and desperately need a top-notch driver!"

The Emperor's words were true. For an immortal beast lord, endless life without entertainment would be torture. Having explored every genre of Terran music, it now had a sudden urge to try something different—making money was secondary; the key was creating excitement!

"When I first saw you from afar, you looked like an empty, crushed beer can—empty and fragile." The Emperor's sunglasses obscured his scrutinizing gaze.

"Now... at least you're starting to look human. Follow me, and if that idiot Zaro comes after you in the future, I'll protect you! As my Emperor's underling, will you let a stray dog ​​bully you?"

"It seems you've made up your mind?" Kane's voice interrupted her thoughts, waving his finger in front of her eyes.

"Celinina, you wouldn't mind having another partner like me, would you?"

“I don’t mind—or rather, I welcome it.” Cellina knew very well that Kane’s involvement went far beyond “friend’s help,” and it would be unsettling if he asked for nothing in return.

"As you can see, I'm fairly capable, but I don't have many resources," Kane said bluntly.

“Therefore—I need the entire wealth of the Texas family.” To say this to any other Syracuse family would be tantamount to declaring war. But for the Texas family: the former head of the family and the head of the family before that had no objections, and the current head candidate was even less concerned.

"The Texas family's wealth... has been frozen and held in custody by the Grey Hall. Nominally, I do have the right to inherit it."

But in reality, that wealth no longer belonged to Texas. Syracuse was unlike other powerful nations—it lacked a well-organized and powerful army, and its tax revenue was controlled by various families. Madame Sicily, as the ruler of Syracuse, acquired her wealth through her own channels. The Texas family, having established itself in Colombia, was even wealthier than several of Syracuse's lesser-known families combined.

Kane was unfazed by these obstacles. He needed start-up capital—his experience in Kazdel had taught him that while going it alone could win, it was far too inefficient. He needed to build his own network of influence, capable of mobilizing resources to carry out orders at a moment's notice, as an extension of his will.

Rhine Lab was his initial target; he wanted to drive its creation and become its controller. Although he felt somewhat apologetic towards Kristen, Kane was certain that under his leadership, Rhine Lab would only become stronger, and Kristen would then be able to realize her dream.

The Texas family's wealth is the first cornerstone of this grand plan.

“In return,” Kane said, looking at Cherlinina, offering a similarly irresistible offer.

“I’m giving you a choice. In the future, when Zarro uses the contract to force you to return to Syracuse to resolve the trouble, I can make him go to hell. As for worrying about retaliation from other gangs or beast lords…” He paused, his tone filled with absolute confidence.

"Whoever comes to you, I can take care of them for you." This is the classic gangster logic—if my friend gets into trouble, I will blame everyone here.

"Wow—!" The Emperor whistled, his schadenfreude practically written all over his face.

"That idiot Zarro made the worst move ever!" It seemed to see the future: Zarro, full of pride, summoned Cellina, only to find that it was Kane, the god of death, or his subordinates who stepped into Syracuse.

"Hahaha! That stupid dog's expression will be priceless!" As for the spirit of the contract? The Emperor knows Zaro's character all too well—betrayal is commonplace for him. For such a bastard, an eye for an eye is the right thing to do!

That's how you deal with bastards like that.

"As for your new boss, if you ever become unhappy and want to resign, I can help you negotiate amicably." Kane turned to the Emperor, his smile carrying a deeper meaning.

"Don't worry!" the Emperor patted His goose breast.

"I'm a model boss! As long as this girl speaks up, the door is wide open, and I'll never make things difficult for her! You don't need to cause trouble!" It is indeed a good boss—the future Penguin Logistics may have slightly dangerous work, but the benefits are generous, the boss is protective of his own, and he can take you out for food, drinks, and entertainment.

The Emperor pulled out a card with the logo and contact information printed on it and handed it to Cellina: "Here! Company hotline! Get ready to move, the company headquarters will be in Lungmen!" Having finished recruiting, the Emperor flapped his wings, humming an impromptu mocking tune about Zaro, and leisurely disappeared into the night—"There was some greenhorn waiting to be battled until he cried, if I'm late he'll think I chickened out!"

The empty streets were left with only Kane and Cherlinina, surrounded by the devastation left by the battle.

“Are these… all okay?” Cherlinina looked at the damage around her, somewhat worried about the Tremont authorities’ reaction.

"Don't worry, that penguin will be taken care of," Kane said confidently, then offered his suggestion.

"How about we go for another drink?"

Perhaps it was the overwhelming amount of information tonight, or perhaps life had suddenly burdened her with multiple contracts; Cellina needed a moment of peace. She silently lit a cigarette, the smoke drifting in the night breeze. Kane didn't urge her; instead, he bent down with interest and picked up the severed wolf tail from the ground—a "souvenir" that Zaro hadn't had time to collect, or perhaps disdained to. Not bad; perhaps he could use it to properly "greet" the other party in the future.

After her cigarette burned out, Cellina decided to start with what she could do herself.

"Do you... always carry identification with you?" Cellina stubbed out her cigarette and suddenly asked.

"Identity document?" Kane was taken aback.

"Do they check this when you drink here?"

“The Syracuse gangs have established rules regarding inheritance rights to facilitate the legal appropriation of estates,” Cellina said calmly as she began to recount her past education.

"The Texas family is now defunct, and only I can generate a new right of succession. There are three ways: through godson, through biological children... or through husband."

Kane is clearly too old to be a godfather. His biological son? It would take at least a year, by which time it would be too late—Madame Sicily would have already squandered the fortune and left.

then……

Kane went home and, along with Cellina, became the first couple of the day to enter the Tremont “Civil Rights Office” at 8 a.m.

after an hour.

Kane and Cellina walked out the door side by side. Each of them held a freshly printed marriage certificate attachment in their hands, still smelling of ink.

According to the latest records from the Colombian Citizens Database, Kane Mordred and Cellina Texas officially became husband and wife today.

Chapter 56 Muirsay's Script

"With the Texas family identity, those businesses will naturally be at your disposal."

"Conversely, trouble will come my way in Syracuse."

But Syracuse's methods? A slight smile flickered across Kane's lips. The Lord of the Wolves? They might have once been fearsome legends of this land, but he had already used an absolute power difference to force Zaro, the mighty Lord of the Wolves, to bow his head. As for those Black Gloves kept by the families? His fist cracked slightly—he would gently persuade them to give up when the time came.

"Well then, have a safe journey, my wife."

"Ah, I wish you a speedy climb to the top of Colombia, my husband."

Kane and Cellina's eyes met briefly, a faint smile playing on their lips. This marriage was nothing more than a cold, hard contract. Like a political marriage, it was filled with calculation, yet it also contained mutual trust and appreciation. A unique kind of "cooperation," existing only between them… Perhaps it wasn't as unforgettable as passionate love, but presumably, years later, when they saw themselves as married, they would smile with satisfaction.

As the clock struck nine—it was time for Cellina to put away her last remaining attachments in Colombia. Soon, she would follow in the Emperor's footsteps to Lungmen, bidding farewell to the endless arrows and swords of Syracuse, and embracing the longed-for, peaceful daily life filled with the warmth of everyday life.

And Kane… he had to get to Central Street immediately. His appointment with Muirsey from yesterday was still recorded on social media: eight o'clock in the morning to discuss the film project for his class. Because of this "marriage" matter, he was a full hour late. Although he had messaged her beforehand, this time… Kane smiled wryly to himself; even the good-natured elf lady would probably be upset.

He quickly called a driver, and they sped to the agreed location. As soon as he stepped out of the car, a tangible gaze fixed on him. Following his instincts, he looked—in a corner café, by the window, sat Muirsay, whom he hadn't seen in a long time, her fair cheeks slightly puffed out, like an angry little pufferfish.

The doorbell rang crisply, and a waiter came forward, but Kane waved him away and walked straight to that corner deep inside that exuded a low-pressure atmosphere.

The waiter understood and withdrew—the beautiful young lady had sat alone for a full hour, and the "keep away" expression on her face said it all.

This is going to be interesting. Why not take a little break from a busy work schedule?

“I’m sorry, I’m late… an hour.” Kane sat down opposite Muirsey, his tone unusually apologetic.

"I'll pay for today's expenses as my apology, how about it?"

Interpersonal relationships can be truly wondrous. Kane, who could effortlessly reap lives in Kazdel, was now whispering an apology to an elf lady in a small café in Colombia.

"I've waited for over a month, what's an hour more?" Muirsey's voice was muffled, which could be considered an acceptance of the apology, but her puffed-up cheeks showed no sign of subsiding—it seemed she would have to coax him today.

"So, what are your thoughts on our assignment?"

Kane shrugged: "Absolutely not." His recent experiences had left him no time to plan any film shoots. If Muirsey was also unprepared, then they would have to start brainstorming immediately.

"I'm ready!" Muirsey's eyes lit up instantly, all her previous frustration vanished, replaced by eagerness.

"Camera, script, costumes! I've even gathered the crew to help with filming. Everything's ready, just waiting for you, the leading man, to arrive!"

Looking at the sixth si (six) seven eight people VIII, she devoted herself to an enthusiasm far exceeding the course requirements.

"When will filming begin?" Kane asked. He had lessened his focus on his studies at Tremont Polytechnic. His immediate crisis was resolved; now only one final step remained—he could live freely and eternally. And that final step wasn't far off.

Once Kane controls the Texas family's wealth, his access to Columbia University will greatly increase; the technology and knowledge offered by the university will no longer be the only option. In the future, when his wealth translates into sufficient social status, Tremont Polytechnic will naturally open doors for him, such as… a more flexible study schedule.

“Now!” Muirsey suddenly stood up, and Kane then noticed the two bags at her feet.

"The photoshoot will take place in the nearby city park, and the costumes are here. I'll contact the photographer right away!"

After Kane paid the bill, the two left the café and walked to the park. At the "set" Muirsey had chosen, the "photographer" was already waiting. Muirsey waved cheerfully to her; the other was also a vibrant young woman.

Her brown hair was adorned with a few strands of silver highlights, and her golden eyes seemed to hold the sunlight, clear and bright. A light gray skirt, a white inner layer, and a sleek black coat were layered to create a sophisticated and stylish look—it was hard to tell whether this was her own taste or the work of fashionista Muirsey.

The two vibrant young girls huddled together, immediately chatting and laughing. Kane quickly followed, and the "photographer," upon seeing him, immediately flashed a bright smile and greeted him:

"This must be our male lead, right? Wow, he's even more handsome and photogenic in person than Miu Miu described!"

A straightforward and enthusiastic compliment! An ordinary little boy would probably have blushed. But Kane simply accepted it calmly. His body, meticulously designed by the Creator—the wild silhouette of a gray wolf combined with masculine sharpness—was indeed a wonderful design, worthy of praise.

"Let me introduce you, this is Ms. Vianta Magellan. She was my junior in high school! Her race is Liberi, though her features aren't very distinctive. She's an expert at operating drones and has a lot of experience in film and television production, making her perfect as our cameraman!" Muirsay said enthusiastically, the two clearly old acquaintances with a deep friendship.

The name "Magellan" instantly brought a vague sense of familiarity to Kane's mind—it was someone he "knew".

"Nice to meet you, Miss Magellan."

"Just call me Vianta! Miu Miu's friends are my friends!" The girl's smile was incredibly infectious, radiating a warm, pure aura...

"Are you sure she's not Sarkaz?" Kane couldn't help but ask Muirsey in a low voice.

"Hehe, isn't that amazing?" Muirsey said with a smug look on her face, clearly already used to her friend's dazzling qualities that seemed to come with their own halo—energetic and enthusiastic, even in a campus full of talented people, she was undoubtedly the core of the "positive angle".

Chapter 57 marks Texas's first appearance.

“Giovanni! Is hatred more important than our future?!” Alice’s voice trembled with despair.

“I’m sorry, Alice… Blood debts must be repaid with blood.” Giovanni’s voice was low and resolute as he tried to pry open Alice’s fingers that were tightly gripping his sleeve.

"If... if I come back alive, I swear I'll come back to see you. But now... let go."

The twilight cast long shadows of the two figures across the empty street, creating a poignant silhouette of reluctance to part. Finally, the man broke free, leaving behind only a resolute silhouette and a weighty promise.

"Click——!!!"

Vienta's excited shouts broke the silence.

"Perfect! Absolutely perfect! Are you two really acting for the first time? This level of performance is way better than half of the bloated stars in Blue Cardwood!" She recalled the drone and began comparing the footage with the camera footage, her eyes sparkling.

"Miao Miao, the layers of pleading, despair, and finally, heartbreak in your eyes are absolutely amazing! Kane, your micro-expressions—struggle, pain, and final resolve—textbook-level emotional transitions! This is what a leading man should be like! A million times better than those wooden characters who have a blank expression the whole time!"

Vianta didn't hold back her praise. If it weren't for the time and budget constraints of a student assignment, this meticulously crafted segment would absolutely qualify as the grand finale of an excellent short film.

“Müllseth.” Kane took off his costume jacket, his tone slightly playful.

"Are you sure you didn't write this script to subtly criticize me?"

"Ah? I, I absolutely didn't!" Muirsey quickly waved her hands, her cheeks slightly flushed.

“The new Syracuse series is all the rage lately, and Colombia is seeing another wave of gangster culture fever... I just want to jump on the bandwagon…” She suddenly widened her eyes and her voice became tense.

"Wait! Kane, your family... could it really be..."

“I’m sorry,” Kane interrupted her, making a joke.

"If I were really the son of some gangster, I'd probably be busy handling the family business right now, instead of here helping my classmates with their movie assignments."

Muirsay's script does indeed read like a subtle satire: a young man named Rupert, raised in a Columbia orphanage, falls in love with a detective's daughter. While sorting through her father's belongings with his girlfriend, they unexpectedly uncover a long-buried murder case—the victims are none other than the young man's parents. Hatred instantly consumes their peaceful life, culminating in a final farewell on a street at dusk. The script cleverly utilizes the passage of time throughout the day: their first encounter in the morning, their passionate love in the afternoon, the rift in the evening, and finally, their parting at twilight.

Four story segments, four sets of costumes meticulously prepared by Muirsey—they were far more exquisite than any ordinary student assignment. Kane even suspected that after filming this project, the girl might be planning to use it as an advertisement for some clothing brand.

“Only the final encounter at dawn remains, Kane—” Muirsays held up a finger, his tone carrying a slight warning.

"You're not allowed to be late again tomorrow!"

The day's filming finally came to a close. Kane said goodbye to the two vibrant ladies at the station, but his night was just beginning.

The reason why Kane considers Muirsayth's script a satire is precisely because its core resonates subtly with reality—by day, he is a college student enjoying life and youth, experiencing the "ordinary" daily life under the Colombian sun; while at night, he must step into the bottomless murky waters of Syracuse to stir up the long-dormant undercurrents.

Although the Texas family's core businesses are not in Trimont, how could they not have their eyes on this heart of Colombia? "Texas Winery" is one of them. Leveraging the trade route it established with Syracuse, it specializes in fine wines from its homeland, among which Saluzzo red wine is the most famous and is a trend in Colombian high society.

Kane's target was precisely this place. He certainly wasn't naive enough to think that simply publishing a newspaper announcement declaring himself "the last Texas husband" would automatically bring a vast fortune into his possession.

His chosen method was simple, direct, and imbued with Syracusan etiquette—to let his fists do the talking. He would punch the wolves clinging to the fat piece of meat, again and again, until the piece of meat bearing the "Texas" mark was completely knocked off.

As night fell, Kane arrived at the Texas Winery. It was situated in a prime, high-end location, surrounded by glittering luxury boutiques.