The newly promoted Emperor's Blades had arrived at the Duke's territory and discovered something unexpected...
Smirnov, a freshly appointed Emperor's Blade, stood at the edge of the Imperial Duke Kashchey's domain, taking in the scene before him.
"Hey, infected one over there—show me your ID."
A man in a police uniform, bear ears perched on his head, brandished his baton threateningly at a young man whose face bore the crystalline marks of infection.
"Yeah, yeah. Thanks for your concern."
The young man sighed, pulled an ID card from his pocket, tossed it to the ground, and backed away four meters with practiced indifference.
Smirnov, watching from the shadows, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in surprise.
In Ursus, most infected would flee the moment they spotted law enforcement. But this one? He stayed put. Wasn't he afraid of being arrested and thrown into some Originium mining pit?
The policeman approached cautiously, using sterilized tools to pick up the ID. Donning gloves, he examined it closely, then tossed it back to the young man after confirming its authenticity.
"I'm doing you a favor just by checking this," the officer snapped. "You think you've got the right to grumble? If it weren't for Lord Kashchey establishing this so-called Experimental Coexistence Zone for the infected and uninfected, you'd be nowhere near these streets."
"Yeah, yeah," the young man muttered and walked away, clearly used to the treatment.
Suddenly, a swirl of black mist appeared beside the policeman. The Emperor's Blade stepped forward, his voice cold.
"Officer, I require information."
The moment he spotted the Emperor's Blade's insignia, the policeman stiffened in recognition. In Ursus, no one dared impersonate the Emperor's Blades—they were elite, relentless, and feared.
"Y-Yes, sir!" the officer responded with a quick salute.
To most, the Emperor's Blades were national heroes—defenders of the empire, warriors against foreign threats, martyrs for the state. The sharp blade of Ursus.
"Tell me about the so-called Special Zone for Experimental Coexistence of Infected and Uninfected People."
"Sir, the zone was established this year by Lord Kashchey. Supposedly, it's for some kind of... Terranities experiment or observational study. I don't know the full details. But because of Lord Kashchey's decree, the infected are allowed to live alongside the uninfected in certain designated areas of the city..."
The Emperor's Blade—Smirnov—listened carefully, but the explanation only deepened his confusion.
In Ursus, the infected were seen less as people and more as a resource—exploited, feared, and marginalized. Infected by Originium, with a theoretically 100% mortality rate and the risk of contagion, they were typically cast out, avoided, or forced into labor. Such a "coexistence zone" defied the nation's long-standing treatment of the infected.
"Officer," Smirnov asked, voice low, "are you not afraid? These infected could pass on the disease to you. Did Kashchey force you to live among them?"
"N-No, sir!"
The policeman quickly shook his head, visibly nervous. He hesitated, looking at the guard as though unsure whether to speak further.
"Officer. Answer my question."
The red light under Smirnov's mask began to blink ominously.
"L-Lord Kashchey didn't force us!" the officer stammered. "He issued strict regulations. Even our behavior around the infected is governed by detailed protocols—Rhine Lab oversees them. Theoretically, it keeps infection risk to a minimum..."
Despite his words, fear lingered in the officer's voice.
"That's not the real reason, Officer."
Smirnov narrowed his gaze behind the mask. As an Emperor's Blade, he could see through hesitation and half-truths. And this man was clearly hiding something important.
Feeling the dangerous pressure radiating from the Emperor's Blade, the policeman's face flushed red. He stammered:
"S-Sir… actually, it's because… one of my friends was injured by a criminal's Originium weapon during an operation—while protecting me. She became infected. When I heard that Duke Kashchey had created a place where the infected could live, I brought her here to settle down."
The memory surged unbidden to the front of his mind.
Back then, a criminal had him at crossbow-point. In that crucial moment, it was his friend who shoved him aside, taking the shot in his place. The bolt only grazed her, but the criminal had embedded Originium fragments into the arrow...
From that day on, she was dismissed from the force and became a pariah—homeless, always on the run. The police could only provide her aid in secret, wary of discovery by colleagues who were once her comrades.
The officer once lauded by the public as a hero became nothing more than an "infected." Former friends and relatives abandoned her. Only the policeman remained—burdened by guilt that he could never wash away.
The Emperor's Blade stood in silence, staring down at the man before him.
If the Duke were anyone other than Kashchey—an immortal said to have existed since the founding of Ursus—Smirnov would've gathered all the necessary intelligence before setting foot here, instead of wasting time questioning a middle-aged beat cop.
Without a word, he turned and vanished into the shadows, making his way toward the very heart of the mobile city.
There, in a bleak, isolated manor, resided one of Terra's strangest immortals—
The Deathless black snake.
The Duke of Ursus.
The unseen being with a thousand faces: Kashchey.
---
"I'm back."
The policeman took off his uniform and stepped inside the dimly lit house. Sitting at the dining table was a full-figured woman with waist-length hair and feathers adorning her head.
On the table, cold food sat untouched.
"You're home. Want me to warm it up again?"
"No need. Sorry to keep you waiting so late."
He sat across from her and immediately began to eat with large, hungry bites. The woman, in contrast, ate slowly, gracefully.
"By the way, have you taken your medicine?" he asked between mouthfuls.
"Of course." She smiled faintly. "Lord Kashchey truly deserves to be called the patron saint of Ursus. Before I came here, I never imagined I could live like this again."
Her words made the man fall silent.
Suddenly, he grabbed her by the leg and yanked up her pant leg—completely disregarding the "Code of Conduct Between the Infected and the Uninfected."
A dark Originium crystal was embedded in her leg, an unnatural growth that contrasted painfully with her skin.
Startled and flustered, the woman shoved the man hard against the wall with both hands.
He coughed dryly from the impact.
"She was the most capable officer in the whole precinct..." he murmured.
"You could've had a brilliant future—if not for Oripathy."
He hesitated, then added, "You didn't deserve to endure any of this."
Old guilt twisted in his chest, suffocating and familiar.
Bang!
She slammed her fist into his head.
"Idiot!" she snapped. "It's been ages since it happened. I've moved on—why haven't you?"
She tugged roughly at his bear ears in frustration, making him clutch his head in pain.
"Besides," she said softly, "weren't you always with me during those days?"
"…Sorry."
He paused. "Have you seen the new research report released by Rhine Lab Sciences?"
"What?"
"…Nothing. It's nothing."
Later, the man returned to his bedroom and opened his briefcase. Inside was a neatly folded newspaper.
"According to recent research by renowned scholar Dr. Mobius, if a non-infected person wishes to form a physical relationship with an infected individual, the infected party must regularly take a specific drug to suppress the concentration of Originium in their body.
Currently, the available drugs on the market are prohibitively expensive. Rhine Lab has announced that, in support of the freedom to love, they will allocate significant resources toward making these drugs more accessible to the public.
Dr. Mobius stated during the press conference that both infected and non-infected individuals have emotional and romantic needs, and this research aims to assist couples facing such challenges."
At the end of the article, a handwritten line had been crossed out with pen:
As expected of a Colombian company, always finding ways to profit…
The man gently touched the newspaper, as though handling the most precious treasure in the world.
He knew she loved him—that was why she saved him.
Even after her infection, though she appeared composed, he could always see the faint flicker of sadness in her eyes whenever she saw a family of three walk by.
"I'll do everything I can…"
He whispered to himself, then carefully clipped out the article and tucked it into a hidden compartment in his wallet.
---
T/N: Hello everyone, this is my second Arknights Fanfic Translation, I quite liked the story and wanted to share it with you all. Sorry if there is a mistake in spelling or mentioning names, let me know and I will correct it immediately.