When Felix and Enciodes sat at the conference table once again, each had a subordinate at their side.

Seated beside Enciodes was Gnosis Edelweiss. The name itself felt unfamiliar to Felix—he was far more used to referring to him just by his codename: Gnosis. Back when Felix had joined Rhodes Island, he rarely had much contact with Gnosis. Felix had been a production-focused player, while Gnosis was wholly devoted to pure research.

From what NPCs had let slip in his previous life, Felix knew Gnosis was not the most well-liked operator. But that never seemed to bother him. Day after day, he immersed himself in research, the image of a scientist consumed by pure pursuit.

Now, his eyes carried a faintly scrutinizing look as they settled on Felix and the Degenbrecher seated beside him. Meeting someone for the first time with that kind of gaze—especially when the other party was both a collaborator and investor—was undeniably rude. Yet Felix knew the man’s character. He was fresh from university, still young, brimming with untempered pride, and had not yet been “hammered flat” by hard lessons (in every sense). Felix therefore paid the look no mind.

Degenbrecher, however, arched a brow, a faint smile tugging at her lips. The man’s stare irritated her. Though her boss had chosen to let it pass, as his comrade, bodyguard, and at times caretaker, she could read the offense in that gaze instantly. Her clear golden eyes lingered on Gnosis for a heartbeat longer. He gave a short, dismissive huff, then withdrew his stare, almost like retreat.

“Glad to see you again, Mr. Felix.”

Enciodes inclined his head slightly. “Please allow me to apologize for my companion’s rudeness.”

Felix nodded. He had hardly cared. Scientists of Gnosis’s disposition were commonplace in Columbia; he had met too many of them to be bothered.

“And Lady Black Knight as well. I did not expect to see you here.”

Degenbrecher returned the nod. “I go by Degenbrecher now. I am Felix’s subordinate.”

“I see.”

The corners of Enciodes’s lips lifted faintly. His voice was calm, but his thoughts turned inward. Back then, he had still been finishing his studies in Victoria, and had traveled to Kazimierz to both gather information and secure a trade agreement with the Commercial Union. He had heard the rumors: Felix had spent twenty million in a single night to save the Black Knight.

Such decisiveness left him quietly impressed. At the time, he himself could never have produced such a sum, nor done what Felix had done.

Small talk gave way to business. With the preliminaries over, the real discussion began. Both men laid their contracts and agreements on the table, pages thin but laden with content, and began their deliberations.

“As I see it,” Felix spoke steadily, “the railways will do more than expand industrial transport. For Kjerag, they’ll be a seismic shift for tourism as well. This is already a summer retreat, a place where many on Terra come to rest their hearts. With proper planning, no matter the season, Victoria—being the closest neighbor—will surely send a constant flow of visitors.”

His words flowed easily. Having traveled Kjerag for several days, he had already built a rough draft of these thoughts. In both his real life and on Terra in his past life, he had seen countless places. Finding a few usable ideas was no trouble.

Two things had left the deepest impression on him here: the beast mounts, and the small Kjerag furnaces. Even as an NPC in this life, he still regarded both as true icons of Kjerag. Kjeragandr was of course the land’s great symbol—but not every visitor was a believer. To rely on Kjeragandr alone as a selling point was, frankly, difficult.

Still, Felix mused, perhaps a miniature statue of Kjeragandr could be designed. That broad, kind face might well soothe the restless hearts of travelers.

His stake in Karlan Trade was small, no more than a few percent. Yet Gnosis could see clearly: Enciodes’s attitude toward Felix was fundamentally different from how he dealt with Victoria’s greedy merchants. He preferred working with this man—discussing the future with him.

As for the direction of railway construction and its pace, that was beyond Felix’s control. At present, Enciodes had yet to mobilize his family’s power. He was not acting as the scion of a great house, but as the chairman of Karlan Trade. In such a role, making headway in Kjerag would naturally take time.

Change was never achieved through words alone. It always began with hesitation and pain. But Enciodes did not waver—his vision was clear: to make Kjerag better. And for that, he would spare no effort.

Conversations with Enciodes were easy. Gnosis, who had been quietly following the discussion, suddenly spoke up:

“Forgive my bluntness, Lord Felix. Is it true you intend to establish a so-called research institute in Kjerag?”

Enciodes’s brow furrowed slightly. Gnosis had voiced the doubt that lingered in his own mind. Kjerag belonged to its three great families, and to the Kjerag people. On this point, Enciodes held firm principles.

“You may regard it as one form of collaboration,” Felix replied evenly. “This institute will be led by you, Enciodes—and by me. But I prefer to call it a research station. What’s more, we will continue our cooperation in the future. Establishing a Tomorrow’s Development branch in Kjerag, and advancing hand-in-hand with Karlan Trade, benefits both of us.”

“To that, I give my full welcome.”

Enciodes nodded. Continued partnership with Tomorrow’s Development was exactly what he hoped for. It had nothing to do with the company’s current scale—everything came down to Felix himself.

He knew Felix’s titles. Beyond the daunting label of “scientist,” he was also a gifted designer, from whom Enciodes had already learned much about industry and production. More importantly, Felix’s wild, creative ideas—methods of drawing visitors, concepts for development—stirred excitement even in him.

The truth was simple: he and Felix could talk. That was what mattered most. Beneath Felix’s warm smile, he saw a mind of calm restraint. Enciodes, on the other hand, wore an icy mask—but within, a fire burned.

Degenbrecher crossed one leg over the other, watching as Enciodes and Gnosis departed together. A flicker of doubt stirred in her gaze.

“Boss, that Mr. Gnosis… it seems he has his own thoughts.”

“That’s normal,” Felix replied quietly. “Everyone has different ideas. As long as they still walk forward together—side by side—even if their purposes differ, the starting point remains the same. For now, leave Gnosis be. Once the institute is established, he’ll likely be the most enthusiastic of all. Enciodes will continue seeking ties with Victoria. As for me… it’s time I faded from Kjerag’s and Victoria’s line of sight.”

“Boss, you mean you don’t want Tomorrow’s Development exposed too early?”

“Exactly. Recruiting adventurers as subordinates—truth be told, every faction does it.”

Felix spoke softly. In secret, each power courted players of promise, extending offers to those with strength. But these dealings remained in the shadows. Publicly, none admitted to it.

The numbers they recruited were always small enough to conceal. After all, the undying nature of Originium Arts was far too terrifying. Players knew death meant lost experience, and Infected players—stricken by Oripathy—would worsen their condition and lower their HP cap with each death. But the people of Terra did not know that. If trained properly, with loyalty secured, wasn’t it possible to raise undying squads—Immortal armies?

If Tomorrow’s Development fell under the gaze of ambitious powers now, none would care about rules or propriety. To them, mass recruitment of adventurers already marked Felix’s enterprise for destruction.

So this was the time to grow quietly—to make his fortune in silence.

“Boss, then are we heading back to Lungmen?” Degenbrecher asked.

“Since we’re already in Kjerag, and Columbia is so close, we may as well go there first.”

Before version 1.0 ended, Felix intended to make one more trip to Columbia. After that, it would be back to Lungmen, in time for the upcoming Kazimierz Major.

As for Kjerag, the seed had already been planted. Watering it would depend on SilverAsh’s will. And between the two of them, beyond the trade of industry and technology, there was a deeper layer still—arms deals.

Felix still followed the same path as in his previous life. Enciodes’s private forces were in dire need of arms—equipment that could never be sourced from Victoria’s factories. Felix planned to build his own factory in Kjerag, one that could export processed goods and achieve self-sufficiency.

At the inn, Mostima and Fiammetta were waiting for his return. Seeing the relaxed look on Felix’s face, the two women immediately understood—the negotiations must have gone well.

They had spent the day roaming the city, and had even picked up a few messenger jobs. One was particularly bizarre: a male Ursus who wanted them to deliver a letter to his wife—though he didn’t even know where she was. A commission like that left both Mostima and Fiammetta speechless. You don’t even know your wife’s location, and expect us messenger to track her down?

Over the next two days, Felix and Enciodes met several more times. Enciodes even brought him into Karlan Trade’s current headquarters—nothing more than an ordinary small building. There, Felix also exchanged ideas with Gnosis. At first arrogant, Gnosis quickly set aside some of his pride. In matters of scholarship, Felix was qualified to be his and Enciodes’s teacher. The most striking part was his age—so young, yet so knowledgeable.

Gnosis didn’t want to admit it, but many of the terms and concepts Felix spoke of were completely unfamiliar to him. That silence weighed heavily, yet at the same time steeled his resolve. He would keep walking the scientific road in his own way, step by step through the snow.

A week later, Felix and Enciodes shook hands in farewell. Their relationship had grown closer through days of discussion, though Enciodes still wore his usual mask of cool detachment.

“Before you leave, tell me this, Felix—do you play chess?”

What kind of question is that? Back in elementary school, Felix had already reached amateur fourth-dan in Go, earning the title of eleventh-rank kishi thanks to his teacher’s encouragement. As for Gomoku, he played casually, and party games like flying chess were never his thing.

“I do,” Felix answered.

“Good. Then next time we meet, let’s have a match.”

Felix smiled and agreed. Before leaving, he made one last visit to the Temple.

Standing before the towering statue of Kjeragandr, he once again encountered Kjera, the cleric. During his not-too-short, not-too-long stay in Kjerag, he had gotten to know her. Not close enough to be called a friend, but at least someone with whom he could converse.

“Felix, you’re leaving.”

“Yes. Before I go, I wanted to come here again.”

He smiled faintly. “Though the Sankta people have their own laws, we also respect and understand the beliefs of others. Thanks to you, Kjera, I’ve come to understand Kjeragandr more deeply. The people of Kjerag are truly blessed, with such a gentle god to guide them. Their faith is so pure—it moves me. Before I depart, I wanted to return here, to say goodbye to it all.”

“All farewells exist for the sake of reunion.”

A gentle smile touched Kjera’s face. She pressed one hand lightly against her chest in prayer. In that moment, she radiated sincerity and sanctity.

“I hope that when the time comes, we will meet again here in Kjerag.”

Her prayer finished, Kjera bowed with a serene smile. Her soft gaze lingered on Felix’s face for a moment, then she turned and walked away at an unhurried pace.

What a remarkable cleric, Felix thought. He had only ever seen such a holy light on the faces of the chief priests of Laterano. For someone like Kjera to remain a low-ranking cleric almost felt like a waste of her talent.

As he stepped down the Temple stairs, a sudden notification flashed across his panel.

[Congratulations! You have acquired the talent [Blessing of Kjeragandr]]

[Blessing of Kjeragandr] — Grants a slight bonus to luck checks: +1%.

Felix’s eyes widened. What the hell is this? Yet another talent he’d never heard of before—not one that had ever dropped for players, nor one he had seen mentioned on any forum. The Blessing of Kjeragandr? Could it be that Kjeragandr was… still alive?

Or was this something that came simply from believing in Kjeragandr? No, that didn’t make sense—this wasn’t a buff, and it wasn’t a trait either. This was a genuine talent, one with an acquisition method so obscure it was practically impossible to obtain.

His last talent, Advanced Mechanical Mastery, had only come about thanks to sheer luck when he apprenticed under Dürrenmatt. He had thought that was already remarkable. Yet out of nowhere, this had appeared.

A luck bonus… Felix’s expression turned conflicted. His base luck was one. How exactly was a “slight” bonus supposed to work with that?

In the end, it seemed… kind of useless. A talent that might look impressive on paper, but was awkward in practice.

Which brought the question back again—was Kjeragandr still alive? Felix rubbed his temple, baffled. Perhaps he ought to ask Degenbrecher, Mostima, and Fiammetta, who had prayed alongside him. Maybe they had also felt their luck shift over these past two days.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep