Felix’s English wasn’t great.

And Ursus names? Even worse. They were long, Russian-inspired, and often came with a string of middle names that made them even harder to remember. Expecting Felix to keep track—especially for nobles he might never meet again—was pointless.

So, he left that job to Carnelian. Ever since Felix mentioned building a faction, Carnelian had naturally stepped into an administrative role. Senomi was still too young to manage serious duties, so Carnelian took on more of the workload. Before they even left, she’d already researched the local nobility.

“Boss, the most influential family in this mobile city—Samara—is the Ivanova family. They run a liquor business and hold a partial monopoly in the market. They’re part of the new nobility.”

Carnelian smiled. “Unlike many, the Ivanovas aren’t overly aggressive. They keep a neutral stance.”

There were deep, irreconcilable tensions between the old and new noble classes in Ursus. The old nobles gained their status through war or founding deeds. The new nobles, on the other hand, earned their titles through industry and commerce. Many ran northern mines—so powerful, even the Ursus emperor had to acknowledge their influence.

Friction between old and new was constant. Like in many nations, internal factions battled for dominance. For those in charge, the challenge was maintaining a delicate balance.

“Boss, are you thinking about dealing with the nobles once we get into the city? I can prepare the paperwork if needed.”

“…I don’t think I have any business that’d interest Ursus nobles.”

“Aren’t you planning to sell drones?”

“Not in Ursus,” Felix said calmly. He glanced at Carnelian and gave a faint smile. “Ursus is a war-hardened nation. You can see it in their history. From the early Four Emperors’ War to the Blood Peak Campaign and the Great Rebellion—they’ve always believed in conquest.”

“Do you know why I sold drones to the Colombian military?”

“Hmm… because Rhine Lab is based in Colombia?”

Felix’s lips curled. “Right. A strong dragon doesn’t challenge a local snake. But it’s also about Colombia itself. In Colombia, my drones become tools for research. In Ursus, they’d only serve one purpose—war and killing.”

“Of course, Colombia has ambitions too, so my second reason is kind of shaky. But still, you’re right—Colombia’s my home base for now. Reaching a tacit understanding with their leadership makes sense… even if our actual HQ won’t be in Colombia.”

“Is it Lungmen? I haven’t been there yet.”

“You’ll be surprised.”

Felix smiled, pulling the pickup truck in front of a hotel. He lingered inside a bit longer, soaking in the warm air conditioning.

“I’d love to visit Rim Billiton and meet those bunnies. If only there were a landship to ride on.”

“Wow, Boss. Land ships only exist in Victoria, right?” Carnelian laughed, exaggeratedly wide-eyed. “If you’re talking about mining ships, though—Rim Billiton has a bunch. I’ve been on one. Honestly? Pitch black inside, and it shook so much I got seasick.”

“I’ll buy it if I get the chance,” Felix said. “Of course, not anytime soon. After the company’s established, I might reach out to the Rim Billiton mine owners.”

“Got it.” Carnelian took a small notebook from her bag and jotted it down.

That little notebook contained everything—tiny logistics tasks, infrastructure plans, even future policy ideas. Every detail captured.

They’d arrived in Samara—a nomadic industrial hub near the northern border. Its ore-processing facilities converted raw materials from the tundra into gear and tools, which were then shipped to other mobile cities.

On the street, Ursus residents hurried past in thick coats and boots—heads down, brisk steps. Felix and his team were in the city’s wealthier district. He could’ve wandered into the slums, seen the struggle firsthand, but he had the image etched in his mind already. No need to relive it.

His mission here was simple: restock supplies and leave. He had no interest in forming alliances with the local nobility. The old-order vs. new-order squabbles didn’t concern him.

—

“Have you heard… the Ivanova family’s under fire because of their liquor trade?”

“Shh! Stop gossiping. Noble affairs aren’t for us to discuss.”

“We’re Baronesses ourselves—just lower-tier ones. Why is there such a gap?”

Browsing shops, Felix overheard two elegant Ursus ladies whispering excitedly. They mentioned the name he’d just nodded to—Ivanova. Curious, he approached with a gentle smile.

When the ladies spotted him—a handsome young Sankta dressed as a Messenger—their eyes lit up instantly. His courteous manner sealed the effect within moments.

“Ladies,” Felix greeted softly. “I am a Messenger. I carry a letter intended for a member of the Ivanova family. My apologies for overhearing your conversation—I couldn’t resist out of curiosity. May I ask what has transpired with the Ivanovas?”

His tone was deferential, filled with flattery—but gently so. It felt like a breeze on a warm day, not intrusive, not disrespectful. Looking at him, any sour mood seemed to melt away.

The two ladies exchanged a surprised glance.

“Well… since you asked,” one whispered, covering a smile.

“Really? You’re actually going to tell him?” the other teased.

“Besides, he’s so cute and polite…”

They giggled, glancing between each other, then turned toward Felix with eager smiles, ready to share their fascination—and their city’s secrets.

“Well, it’s okay to tell you. The Ivanova family’s beer industry is very large. Some nobles envy the Ivanova family’s industry and want to get a piece of the pie.”

Felix nodded. That was a very aristocratic move—after all, you couldn’t be the only one rich. You had to make sure everyone ate a slice of the cake.

The ones eyeing the Ivanova family’s business were the new nobles in Samara. They had their sights set on the family’s massive liquor empire and were eager to initiate a so-called “friendly” exchange. If they could snag a portion of the profits, that would be ideal.

But how could the Ivanova family agree?

The old and new nobles were already locked in conflict, and now even within the new nobles, disputes over interest were bubbling up. Felix wasn’t surprised. He’d seen too much of this before in Victoria’s aristocratic circles. When it came to fighting over shares in military factories, those supposedly refined nobles would tear off their masks in a heartbeat. If negotiations failed, they might as well draw swords like savages to settle the matter.

But the nobles of Ursus?

Felix was about to learn just how brutal they could be.

—

Three days after arriving in Samara, just as Felix’s supply order was finally set to arrive and he was preparing to move out on his next journey to find the infected players, the ground suddenly trembled beneath his feet as he strolled through the city with Muelsyse, chatting and laughing.

Felix’s expression shifted. “What was that? An attack? Don’t tell me Yan Country is making a move now.”

Flames and thick black smoke rose from the wealthy district in the distance, painting the sky red.

“That place looks like the nobles’ residential area…” Muelsyse’s body shrank slightly, her shoulders tense. Her trauma was visible. After the tragedy in Tara, the sight of fire clearly haunted her. She seemed terrified more innocent people would perish again.

Such a gentle water elf.

“A fire in the noble district wouldn’t cause a blast like that, would it?” Felix muttered.

Before he could even finish the thought, another explosion thundered from the same direction.

“…Is this a gas explosion?”

Felix stood frozen in disbelief. But whatever it was, it clearly had nothing to do with him. He turned around and returned to the hotel. Inside, the radio had already begun broadcasting the news.

“…Multiple explosions have just occurred on Lorain Avenue. Residents in the Lorain area, please remain calm. The explosion took place in the front yard of the Ivanova family estate. Emergency services are currently on site. Sir Sheperd, who was aiding the Ivanova family, stated that this was an accident involving Originium Arts. It appears the explosion occurred during a sparring session between two knights, and some kind of malfunction triggered the fire…”

“Our station will continue to provide updates. The head of the Ivanova family has been confirmed dead in the explosion. Investigators suspect the family was using a high-risk Originium Arts, and the outdated casting unit is believed to be the cause…”

“The death toll has now reached twenty-four, including most members of the Ivanova family and all of their staff. A tragic and horrifying accident…”

Felix couldn’t help but laugh. He shook his head, lips curled into a dry, cynical smile.

Of course, a sparring accident. An outdated casting unit. What a convenient cover-up.

As expected of an Ursus noble.

Victorian aristocrats might smile while slipping a knife into your back—always seeking to maintain the illusion of civility. But Ursus nobles? They didn’t bother with theatrics. If they had a problem, they’d draw their blades and settle it face to face.

It was clear now: the new nobles hadn’t just wanted a share of the Ivanova family’s wealth—they planned to carve up the entire family.

Felix had to hand it to them. Brutal, direct, and effective.

“Muelsyse…”

She clenched her hands tightly.

Felix reached out and placed his hand gently over hers. “This world is built on predation. Everyone’s fighting for a piece of something. The Ivanova family? Just another casualty. This isn’t about personal grievances—it’s about the system.”

“Dividing profits peacefully is a fantasy. Even if the Ivanovas had compromised, those nobles wouldn’t stop. They’d just keep pressing, keep bleeding them dry… That’s why, when it comes to power or wealth, it’s always a zero-sum game—either them or you.”

“I get it,” Muelsyse said quietly. “But even so, I’m still shocked.”

She wasn’t naïve. Years in the scientific world had stripped away any childish illusions. But the raw, undisguised violence of Ursus politics still managed to catch her off guard.

Two days after the “accident,” Felix was going over the latest Rhine Lab orders with Muelsyse when a knock came at the door.

“Come in,” he said.

He hadn’t given Carnelian any new assignments. After scouting the city, she’d mostly roamed on her own. When Felix was out, she acted as his guard. When he was busy, she handled reconnaissance.

Carnelian stepped in—holding a girl by the hand.

Felix turned his golden gaze toward her, expression flat. “And who is this young lady?”

Carnelian stepped forward, gently tugging the pink-haired Lupo girl into view. “I found her in the slums. Boss, want to take a guess who she is?”

Felix narrowed his eyes, scanning the girl from head to toe. She looked pale, dazed—her strength nearly gone. If Carnelian hadn’t been holding her, she might’ve collapsed on the spot.

“You two fought?”

“Hm? Sort of. She put up a bit of a struggle, but she’s no match for me.” Carnelian’s crimson eyes gleamed with amusement.

The pink-haired girl trembled at her words.

“Let her go,” Felix said calmly.

Carnelian obeyed without hesitation. As soon as she released her grip, the girl dropped to her knees, shaking uncontrollably.

Muelsyse rose from her seat and quietly stood behind Felix.

“Looking at you, I can’t help but think of someone I used to know,” Felix said, his voice softer. “She’d be about your age now… if she were still around.”

He tapped his knee thoughtfully, as if debating something, then waved his hand dismissively. “Alright, let’s stop playing games. You’re from the Ivanova family, aren’t you? What the hell are you still doing in Samara? Do you have a death wish?”

Carnelian sipped water in the corner, watching with interest.

So—this time, a different opening. But how would the boss deal with the girl in front of him, how will he conquer her?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep