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

Page 7

“Yes, sir,” Kane replied cooperatively, infected by Muirsey’s energy.

Kane's previous clothing purchases were all from affordable brands, sturdy and durable but unremarkable. Today, with the discerning "fashion consultant" Muirsey in charge, he acquired three completely different outfits—their design and quality are so high that they could be given as event skins for the operator "Kane Mordred".

Muirsey herself enthusiastically selected several unique items—this probably reflects the difference between a novice and a veteran: novices tend to change items in complete sets, while veterans are better at creating versatile combinations with different items.

Shopping finished, and it was already past noon. Time to try the legendary "Syracuse Pizza".

As the two left the glittering shopping district of Central Avenue and walked two blocks, the pizzeria they were after finally came into view. The building, constructed of light-colored stone bricks, had a black signboard hanging above it, and its dark, rugged facade exuded an air of untamed grandeur—it looked like a set straight out of a Blue Cardwood gangster movie!

"Wow, Kane! Do you think this place was actually used as a filming location for Blue Cardwood?" Muirsey excitedly looked at the "Syracusan style" facade.

“BlueCardwood has professional set builders,” Kane calmly analyzed.

"This shop is too small; it's only suitable for shooting indoor close-ups or transitional scenes in the streets and alleys."

Stepping inside, the staff are all Rupo, their fur colors varied, but their movements all possess a Syracusan-style efficiency and skill. Especially noteworthy are the two chefs by the oven in the kitchen; one skillfully stretches the dough and adds toppings, while the other swiftly places the pizzas into the roaring oven. At lunchtime, the restaurant is already more than half full, bustling with activity, clearly a thriving business.

"Oh, look at this—a little Luper brat, wanting something?"

"Oh? Look—" A rough, hoarse voice came from behind the cashier. A Lupo shopkeeper, his face etched with the marks of time and perhaps a few old scars, stood with a toothpick in his mouth, his sharp gaze fixed on Kane, who had just entered, a slightly roguish smile spreading across his lips.

"A Luper brat! Want something, kid?" This greeting carried the rudeness and over-the-top familiarity of a Syracuse gangster remnant. Though slightly offensive, it was a habit ingrained in his very being.

Chapter 19 A Date with Muirsey (4k)

"What would you like to eat?" Kane asked, turning his gaze to Muirsey.

"Hmm... since this is your first time here, let's try the most popular flavor! One Margherita pizza, please."

Muirsey readily ordered. She was used to the idea that pizzas could be made larger depending on the number of people, assuming one large pizza would be enough for two. However, this wasn't the case with Syracuse-style freshly baked pizzas—their dough was prepared and fermented a day in advance, leaving no time for kneading or dividing it for you on the spot.

Kane's gaze swept over the bolded note on the menu: "All pizzas at this restaurant are single-serving size."

"I'd like a Margherita pizza too."

Kane added calmly, tapping lightly on the menu's prompt with his finger. Muirsey followed his gaze, then gasped in surprise, covering her mouth with her hand. She felt a slight blush of embarrassment at her "amateurishness," and even the tips of her pointed elf ears flushed a barely perceptible pink.

Kane didn't take the shopkeeper's earlier, somewhat gruff, Syracusan-style greeting to heart. The other party meant no harm; it was just their speaking style, and completing the order quickly was the priority.

"Oh dear, Dad! Could you please tone it down a bit? Don't scare the guests!" A clear voice interrupted. A young and beautiful Lupo woman quickly walked over from the kitchen, gently persuading her father to go back inside, before personally greeting Kane and Muirsay with an apologetic smile.

In addition to two Margherita pizzas, Muirsey enthusiastically ordered two more specialty snacks and drinks. The two chose a window seat, where they could enjoy the view of the street outside.

"Kane." Muirsay stirred his drink with a straw, lowering his voice and glancing towards the kitchen.

"You know that shopkeeper?" She vividly remembered the shopkeeper's overly familiar greeting and initially thought he was an acquaintance of Kane's—after all, they were both from the Lupo tribe, perhaps even related? But Kane's indifferent reaction clearly indicated he wasn't dealing with family.

"I don't know him." Kane picked up his water glass, his tone completely indifferent.

"It's just the nature of the Lupo people, or rather... part of the stereotype. We are often associated with collective action and a specific underground culture. When encountering members of our own race, some people will subconsciously act... more familiar."

"Wow!" Muirsey's eyes lit up immediately, sparkling with gossip. She leaned forward slightly and lowered her voice even further.

“So… do you think he’s really… one of those retired people?” She asked gently, but Kane could tell she was referring to the mob.

Actually, her caution was somewhat unnecessary. At this moment, the restaurant was bustling with noise, a mix of conversations and the clinking of cutlery, making it difficult even for the Rupo, with their keen hearing, to pinpoint the whispers of any particular table.

"The probability is very high." Kane's voice remained calm, as if stating an objective fact.

“Syracuse once had a large number of families immigrating to Colombia. The immigration policy at the time did not reject them. Relying on the cohesion brought by family ties, they were able to quickly establish themselves in the border cities of Colombia where the order was not yet stable.”

Then, naturally, they amassed wealth in the ways they knew best, and used that wealth to corrupt judges and police chiefs, attempting to transplant the intricate web of law and order from Syracuse. However, the Colombian authorities paid no heed. Strict policy barriers ensured that these forces could not seize core positions of power, such as judges.

And those corrupt pawns? They can be removed at any time, like sweeping away garbage, if the "big shots" above so choose. Therefore, the so-called "families" attached to them can't amount to anything in the heart of Colombia. The strongest evidence is that even today, this culture can only eke out a living in the chaotic border regions.

As for Trimont? This heart of Colombia has long been occupied by a behemoth far larger, more sophisticated, and more legitimate than any gang, leaving no room for the ghosts of the old era.

Seeing this reality, the Syracuse family's dream of making a name for themselves in Colombia was shattered. At this moment, the Syracuse family is probably planning how to transform themselves and engage in some legal and elegant business in Colombia.

This pizzeria is probably where a gangster went after retiring from the life of crime—compared to most gangsters, he was fortunate to have a means to support his family, and more importantly, his family was by his side.

Soon, two freshly baked Margherita pizzas were served. The sight before him made Muirsey's eyes widen slightly: a thin crust smeared with thick tomato sauce, topped with cheese melted and intertwined with basil leaves from the high-temperature baking. The ingredients themselves were of good quality, but the overall presentation was rather…rough. Scattered, irregularly charred spots dotted the edges of the crust, and the basil leaves, softened and darkened by the heat, were deeply embedded in the sauce and cheese, giving the whole thing a…wild and unrefined look.

“This…is completely different from the fast food pizzas I’ve ever had,” Muirsey muttered to herself. In her memory, a pizza should have a thick, crispy crust, covered with rich cheese that could stretch into long, tempting strands, with carefully prepared, appealingly colored burr or feathered beast meat hidden beneath the cheese, and the whole thing should be clean and tidy—it should never have these unsightly burnt marks.

“Müllseth,” Kane said, picking up his knife and fork, his tone calm yet carrying a subtle hint of guidance.

“One of the meanings of life is to try the unknown possibilities.” Without hesitation, he cut off a piece and put it in his mouth. The feedback on his tongue was quick and clear: the crust was thick and chewy at the edges, thin and crisp in the center; the sweet and sour taste of the tomato sauce, the rich milky aroma of the cheese, and the unique herbal fragrance of basil blended perfectly; there were also hidden hints of fine spice powder and the aroma of olive oil. With just one bite, Kane concluded that the standardized products of fast food chains were no match for this flavor.

"How does it taste?" Muirsey hadn't mustered the courage to try it yet. She cautiously observed Kane's expression—as a rational scholar, why take a blind risk when there were reliable "samples" to refer to?

"Excellent. Highly recommended." Kane's assessment was concise and powerful.

Muirth tried to find a clue in Kane's expressionless face, but his eyes were calm, and he was clearly telling the truth. This pizza might have a wild exterior, but it contained a surprisingly delicious filling.

Finally, Muirsey took a deep breath, resigned to the thought that "the ingredients themselves are fine, at worst they'll cause diarrhea," and carefully cut off a small piece, placing it into her delicate cherry lips. She closed her eyes, savoring the complex flavors that burst forth in her mouth. The next instant, she abruptly opened her eyes, her azure pupils gleaming with undisguised surprise as she looked directly at Kane.

"Wow! (That's great!)" she mumbled in admiration, her mouth still full of food.

"Okay, swallow it first." A faint smile played on Kane's lips, tinged with a hint of helplessness. He had already devoured two slices of pizza, his taste buds beginning to adjust to the intense flavors. He picked up his lemon sparkling water and took a sip—this popular Colombian drink quickly washed away the lingering heavy taste in his mouth, allowing the next bite of pizza to deliver the most primal flavor experience.

The two quickly finished their pizzas. Muirsey licked her lips, a look of lingering regret on her face: "I should have ordered different flavors! It's such a pity to only get to try one!"

Kane looked at the still bustling little shop: "The shop is right here. With their quality, it's pointless to worry about it going out of business. What we should be worried about is the long lines that will form next time we come."

The two paid and left. They hadn't gone more than a few steps outside when Kane noticed Muirsey pull out a uniquely shaped hardcover notebook from somewhere. The notebook's cover seemed to have natural plant vein patterns on it. Holding a delicate pen, she was intently and rapidly writing something. Kane didn't try to spy on her; he simply asked calmly, "What are you doing?"

"Ah...this?" Muirsey looked up, her face showing embarrassment at being discovered, but even more so excitement at sharing.

"I'm taking notes on my dining experience, including details about the pizza's flavor and such."

"Didn't you already take photos from two different angles?" Kane raised an eyebrow, referring to the several photos she had taken of the pizza and the storefront earlier.

"Oh, this is different!" Muirsey closed the notebook, carefully putting it away like a treasure, then put on a playful expression and took a step closer.

“Speaking of which—Colonel Kane! Please give your post-war summary. What is your overall impression of that shop?” She mimicked the tone of her superior’s question.

"If the clerk hadn't secretly slipped me a note with her contact information while giving me my change," Kane said calmly, as if stating the weather.

"That's a perfect score."

"Ah—!?" Muirsey's scream suddenly rose in pitch, sounding exceptionally clear on the bustling street, attracting several curious glances. She stared wide-eyed in disbelief at Kane's still expressionless face.

Kane's appearance was already striking, perfectly matching the Lupo tribe's aesthetic of the "gray wolf"—a symbol of elegance, strength, and a touch of wild charm. Today, in preparation for his appointment with Muirsey, he had taken extra care of his appearance. Stepping into this shop, almost entirely run by Lupo, he was like a magnet, naturally attracting the attention of his fellow tribesmen.

The male shop assistants might verbally criticize Kane's style, but they were probably secretly studying it, thinking about imitating it later. The bold female shop assistant—the manager's daughter—was even more direct. Keep in mind, it was Muirsey who paid the bill! In that situation, she dared to secretly slip Kane a note; that courage, or rather… Rupert Hooper's frankness, was truly remarkable.

This was probably due to the clear boundaries between Kane and Muirsey. They maintained the social distance expected of opposite-sex friends, and there was no inappropriate physical contact whatsoever. The well-informed shop assistant clearly judged that they were not a couple, which is why she had the idea to "hijack" their relationship.

Unfortunately, Kane had no interest in this. Regardless of whether he had the time to indulge in worldly love at the moment, her identity as "the pizzeria owner's daughter" alone destined her and Kane's future trajectories to be fundamentally "misaligned."

Kane knew that he would inevitably be drawn into and involved in major events in Terra in the future. Ambitious people, powerful people, madmen—all sorts of dangers might come his way, and a common girl would become his greatest weakness.

"Lunch is a complete success! So, where should we go to kill some time?" Muirsey enthusiastically planned the afternoon's itinerary, as if she had completely forgotten that the initial promise to "make up for it with a meal" had already been fulfilled.

Kane had no urgent business at hand, and was happy to spend a leisurely afternoon with them. He then suggested, "How about the new movie showing in Blue Cardwood? You treat me to dinner, and I'll treat you to a movie."

"Huh?" Muirsey blinked, feigning surprise.

"Then my compensation wouldn't have achieved its intended purpose?"

"After all, we both crashed into each other," Kane calmly pointed out, adding that since responsibility was shared, compensation would naturally have a shared element as well.

The two arrived at a state-of-the-art cinema near Central Avenue, where ticket prices were naturally much higher. Standing before the extensive film schedule, Kane felt a bit overwhelmed. Although he had crammed on many classic films to understand the Columbia Pictures industry, this knowledge was still a drop in the ocean when faced with the vast number of new sequels—he simply couldn't keep up with the stories of those sequels!

“A serial murder case…a thriller?” Kane noticed that Muirsay’s fingertip was pointing at a movie with a gloomy poster.

"You're interested in this kind of subject matter?" This description seems a bit too provocative for a girl.

"Uh, the poster's just for show," Muirsey waved her hand, explaining.

"Actually, there are very few bloody scenes! The main appeal lies in the protagonist's superb reasoning ability and the intricately linked, mind-bending plot, like a puzzle game!"

Kane's gaze shifted to another: "A Columbia documentary about the natural environment... Muirsey, as a researcher in ecology and environmental science, should resonate with this, right?"

This suggestion immediately drew strong protests from Muirsey: "Would you choose to go to the movies to watch a textbook during your holiday trip?! How about I find you a documentary about the 100-year history of high-energy physics in return?!"

"..." Kane was silent for a moment, seemingly having indeed gone a bit crazy.

"It was my oversight." The feeling of "working overtime" is indeed suffocating just thinking about it.

Muirsey's love for ecology and the environment is undeniable. But for her, a documentary's narration falls far short of the unique perception she possesses as an elf—she can directly hear the "whispers" of the environment and communicate with plants on a certain level. How can cold images and narration compare to the earth and its creatures themselves whispering in her ear?

"Alright, alright." Muirsey perked up again.

"Then let's choose the most relaxing and popcorn-worthy movie! How about this one? The latest masterpiece by Yan Kingdom martial arts superstar Wan Shengsheng!" Muirsey pointed to a movie that exuded the chivalrous spirit of Yan Kingdom from the cover alone. The Ursus girl assumed a fighting stance, displaying the demeanor of a master.

"A kung fu movie?" Kane raised an eyebrow.

"can."

"Ha! Let me show you my comprehension!" Muirse immediately perked up, striking the pose from the poster with swift movements and a touch of the lightness unique to elves.

Kane's database lacked detailed information on traditional Yan martial arts, making it impossible to determine whether Muirsay's stance was merely flashy and ineffective or genuinely skillful. However, he leaned towards the former. Nevertheless, this scene triggered another thought in him:

Close-quarters combat ability… is indeed my weakness. He calmly assessed himself. While warlocks possess powerful ranged firepower, even capable of turning the tide of battle, true masters inevitably strive for all-around impeccability. It seems it will be necessary to fill this gap in the future.

Chapter 20 Trial Period Ends

Holidays always fly by. A new week begins, and Kane's life returns to its routine: attending classes and studying. His interactions with Kristen, Seria, and Muirsey maintain their own unique rhythm.

Kristen maintained their online communication rapport. The two had essentially confirmed their regular classes in the current classroom, a commitment shared by several other students who had also settled in early on. Seria, however, was quite different from Kristen. Her conversations with Kane rarely touched on personal matters, focusing purely on the clash and discussion of academic viewpoints. While her motives were unclear, Seria clearly considered Kane an ideal potential team member, explicitly stating her desire to collaborate with him on future research projects. The reason was simple—Kane and Seria shared similar fundamental traits: rationality, pragmatism, and a pursuit of efficiency. Amidst the restless group of freshmen, the two remained as composed as professors on a lecture platform.

Muirsey was undoubtedly the most talkative one. She seemed to have a natural talent for the art of socializing, always finding fresh topics to chat about with Kane. Perhaps it was the lingering effect of their last date, but conversations about fashion, food, and movies had increased significantly recently. Kane reasonably guessed that there would likely be even more invitations from her in the future.

"Alright, students—that concludes today's lesson." The professor's voice rang out from the podium. "As you all know, the official course selection system will open this weekend. It would be my honor if you chose my course; if you prefer other professors, please remember to apply as soon as possible to avoid missing out."

The trial period has officially ended. The following weekend, Trimont Polytechnic University will open its online course selection portal—a silent "resource war" is about to begin. Of course, the "battlefield" on Kane's side is relatively calm. Professor Gemma Benitez's hellish classes are unlikely to attract many students; her spots should be plentiful. Professor Hall White's situation, however, is more uncertain. The two-week trial period allowed many students to experience the professor's profound knowledge and approachable nature. Whether genuinely seeking knowledge or looking for a relaxed environment to "slack off," Professor White's classes have become a popular choice.

It seems necessary to strictly control the schedule.

Kane had already made up his mind. He planned to complete the course registration the moment the passage opened.

*Beep*—The personal terminal screen lit up with a message from Christensen. Kane calmly opened it to view:

Are you ready to choose your courses?

I plan to grab it as soon as possible; as long as I'm fast enough, there shouldn't be any problem.

What about elective courses?

Trimont Polytechnic University's curriculum doesn't consist of just two majors. Required courses occupy a core position, but the overall credits from elective courses are equally important—all students must complete the required credits in the first two years before they can enter higher levels of study. Without exceptional contributions or exemptions, elective courses are an unavoidable hurdle.

My elective courses are aimed at film appreciation and production, and human biology.

Lu Yinqi Yi Erba s. iba?

Christensen on the other end of the screen was clearly confused by this combination. Her elective was thruster design and astronomical research—the former continuing her parents' unfinished dream, the latter directly addressing her desire to explore the skies. Kane's choice was so far-fetched that she couldn't fathom his thinking.

In reality, Kane's selection criteria were simple and direct: practicality and efficiency. Knowledge itself had no boundaries for him; he possessed the ability to master theories in any field. His current goal at the engineering university was to complete his studies and to make initial attempts to find ways to address his shortcomings using Terra technology.

Film appreciation and production courses are easy to pass, an ideal shortcut to earning credits; but human biology… he never forgot the inherent flaws in his own body. The question of lifespan hangs like a Damocles' sword. Although introductory courses cannot solve the fundamental problems, they will serve as a springboard to access top-tier biological laboratories and seek solutions in the future, using polytechnic universities as a springboard.

Where do you plan to enroll in the classes? At school or at home?

Is there a difference?

Terminals on campus connect directly to the campus server, resulting in faster response times and lower latency. Connecting personal terminals to the city network and then to the school network carries the risk of buffering and congestion.

As a friend, Christensen is simply too perfect—she's so incredibly helpful to Kane, and today is another day I've received her assistance.

This was the first time Kane had found out; he had originally thought that everyone was at home on the weekend, and that they would each rely on their own abilities and leave the rest to fate.

He wanted to use the school's terminal to register for classes, but the channel was only open from 6:00 AM on Saturday to midnight on Sunday. 6:00 AM on Sunday... it was probably impossible to make it from Henry Avenue. So, Kane decided to stay at the hotel tonight!

Thanks for reminding me, I have a solution.

Are you planning to stay overnight at school?

Kane turned his head and saw Christensen's eyes sparkling. Did this young lady also live far away?

you also?

That's right.

The bell rang, and Christensen headed off first, Kane following behind. They were walking in the same direction—as mentioned before, the mobile site where the Polytechnic University was located was fully functional, including hotels providing accommodation. Whether providing a space for restless youthful hormones or offering convenience for students rushing to finish their theses before graduation, this place holds countless stories. Of course, it's rumored that some of the most academically gifted students simply set up cots and makeshift living facilities in their labs.

Christensen and Kane acted swiftly. Upon arriving at the hotel, only a few others noticed its convenience. After checking in, they suddenly found themselves with nothing to do—there was still a whole night before course selection opened. Being away from home meant many of their belongings and plans were impossible to keep.

Kane lay back on the overly soft bed in the hotel room, mechanically refreshing the pages on his personal terminal. He browsed Colombian social media platforms, not seeking information, but simply using this "information intake" to prevent his mind from completely blanking out. Suddenly, a familiar name caught his eye—Naples Pizza!

Kane clicked on the post to take a look—the other party was obviously an expert, commenting on the store's decoration, service attitude, delivery speed, and food quality; in particular, they emphasized the contrast between the pizza's average appearance and its superb taste.

Isn't this the same store that Muirsey and I visited last week? I didn't expect it to be discovered so quickly; I'm afraid we'll have to wait in line to go again in the future.

Kane clicked on the post. The poster was clearly an expert, providing detailed reviews of everything from the Syracuse-style decor of the store, the service attitude of the Rupert staff, the efficiency of food preparation, to the quality of the food, especially emphasizing the stark contrast between the pizza's "rough appearance and amazing taste." The post included several photos.

Kane's gaze lingered on one of the photos of a window seat. The angle… it was almost too coincidental. He sat up, zooming in on the details. The blogger was remarkably careful about protecting personal privacy; all reflective surfaces avoided showing their own image. However, even the best-laid plans can have a flaw—in the corner of a photo, Kane keenly spotted a familiar shopping bag. It was the iconic packaging of the niche boutique Muirsey had taken him to!