Arknights: The Life Inside-Chapter 97

Of course, Yoren had no particular reason for asking those questions. To be honest, it was just idle chatter. They were going to be neighbors from now on, and a bit of mutual understanding couldn't hurt. But he had no interest in meddling in other people's personal business.

"By the way, Ergou, how long has your house been empty?"

"Almost a year. No one's rented it."

"That's surprising. Your house isn't bad. The location might not be perfect, but it's not that bad either. Why did your mom raise the price so high? Isn't it better to rent it out at a lower price than leave it sitting vacant?"

Ergou sniffled and wiped his nose.

"Yoren, you haven't lived in the Kilt neighborhood before, have you?"

"Nope. Just moved in a few days ago. Wait, and stop calling me Old Yoren."

Ergou snatched the football from Yoren's hand and dribbled it lazily on the pavement.

"My mom never said why she set the price like that. But I know one thing. Even if she lowered it, no one would rent. And even if they did, they wouldn't stay long. So she figured, if someone's gonna leave anyway, might as well charge more. People who pay a lot are less likely to walk away."

"Less likely?"

Yoren frowned. There was something off about Ergou's tone.

"What do you mean?"

"Just what I said. You seem pretty happy now, but I bet you won't stay long."

Yoren gulped and asked cautiously, "Ergou, is there something wrong with your house? Someone die in there?"

That was his first thought. Most people who rented houses like this were in business. Yoren didn't believe in ghosts and such, but the world was full of strange things. A history like that could definitely scare off tenants.

But Ergou shook his head. "No, my house is fine."

"Then what's the issue?"

"It's the street. Specifically, the last stretch of it."

Ergou pointed toward the first fork at the far end of the road, outlining a rough area.

Yoren realized his current place was right at that stretch. From his spot to where Ergou was standing was maybe a hundred meters. That meant this hundred-meter stretch was the problem.

Now that it was mentioned, Yoren did notice something odd. This part of the street had fewer shops and even fewer homes. Nearly half the houses seemed empty.

"Ergou, seriously, what's going on with this street?"

Ergou leaned in, looking secretive.

"You know what locals call this stretch? The Street of Hundred Ghosts."

"Wait, what? Why?"

Ergou punted the football into the middle of the empty road. It rolled to a stop untouched. The street, even in daylight, was still and lifeless.

Yoren's eyes followed the ball. Then he heard Ergou whisper in his ear:

"Because this street is haunted at night. AHH!"

Ergou shouted the last part suddenly, making Yoren jump out of his skin.

"You little punk! You scared the crap out of me!"

Ergou laughed and dashed off down the street.

Yoren groaned. He'd just gotten played by a kid. And he'd asked so seriously too. Embarrassing.

Still, he was curious. Ergou's house was right next door, and the front door was open. Yoren walked in.

There was no one in the front room, so he headed to the courtyard in the back and called out.

"Aina!"

"Who is it?"

A harsh female voice echoed down from the second floor. Ergou's mother leaned over the balcony, eyes narrowing when she saw Yoren.

"What are you doing in my house? Who let you in?"

"The door was open. We're neighbors. Just thought I'd stop by."

She eyed him cautiously. "You here to break your lease? Not happening. It's all in the contract. You'd get, what, a tenth of your money back. That's it."

"No, no, nothing like that. I actually wanted to ask you something. Mind coming down for a sec?"

The moment she heard he wasn't leaving, her tone softened.

"Wait there. I'll be right down."

When she came down, Yoren explained what he needed: temporary furniture. Chairs, tables, maybe a sofa. Anything they could use without buying.

"Aina, do you have anything lying around?"

"Yeah. Come with me."

She led him to a small storage room off the courtyard. It was packed with random junk, including old furniture.

"These were left by previous tenants. I threw out anything unusable. What's here is still good. You can take what you need. No charge. Just return it when you move out."

Yoren lit up.

"Thank you so much. I'll come back with my brother to move it."

The furniture wasn't fancy, but perfectly functional. It would save them a lot.

Aina waved him off.

"No need to thank me. Neighbors help each other. By the way, what kind of business are you starting?"

Yoren hesitated. After a moment, he muttered, "It's kind of complicated. Might end up covering a lot of things."

Aina squinted at him like a school teacher catching a kid sneaking into an arcade.

"Better not be anything illegal."

Yoren hesitated again.

Was it?

But before he could answer, she laughed.

"Relax, I'm teasing. You don't look like the type. Just work hard. If you stay here a whole year, I'll lower the rent next year."

"Thank you. Really."

Just as he turned to leave, Yoren remembered something.

"Oh, right. Aina, why is this street so empty? A lot of houses seem abandoned."

Aina looked surprised.

"Your name's Yoren, right? You're not from around here? Not familiar with the Gilt neighborhood?"

Why did that sound so familiar?

Yoren nodded slowly.

"Yeah, just moved here."

Aina sighed and gave him a knowing look.

"Let me tell you something. You know what people around here call this street? They call it the Street of Hundred Ghosts."

Yoren stared.

"Wait, you mean it's haunted?"

"See? You know. So why ask me?"

Yoren's face twisted like he'd bitten into a lemon.

"I didn't believe it. Thought it was just some dumb rumor."

Aina's face turned mysterious. That same smirk Ergou wore.

"Oh no, it's real. Let me warn you—everyone who lives on this street is a little... strange. If they weren't, they wouldn't dare stay here. You get what I'm saying?"

Yoren nodded slowly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I get it."

Her words made sense, but something about the way she said them unsettled him.

Anyone who stayed here was either not afraid of ghosts... or had a few screws loose.

Yoren didn't know which one he was.

After leaving Sister Li's house, Yoren couldn't shake the feeling that he'd somehow been played.

The midday sun bathed the street outside in golden light, clean and tidy, like a picture-perfect postcard of a civilized city. It spoke of harmony, of infected and uninfected people living side by side in peace. Looking at the bright, wide road, Yoren had to scoff—haunted at night, really? Either this street held some ridiculous secret, or Li Ergou's mother was just as mischievous as her troublemaker son. Honestly, the second option seemed more likely.

And even if it was haunted—so what? Ghosts? He wasn't afraid of ghosts.

He'd faced the threat of oripathy without flinching. He'd stood against flame, creatures from the deep sea, even the fury of nature itself. Was he really going to back down from some whisper in the night?

...Okay, maybe a little.

Just as Yoren stepped outside, Ergou spotted him and grinned mischievously, tapping his ball with one foot.

"What's with the face, Lao Xia? You look like someone stepped on your lunch."

"Scram."

"Come play football with me?"

"Bro, I'm swamped. No time to kick a ball around. But hey—this afternoon, think you could give me a little tour of the street? Help me get familiar with the place?"

Ergou thought it over, hands on his hips.

"Ooh, I don't know. I'm kinda busy, and you know, all that walking might make me thirsty."

Yoren threw up his hands. "Alright, alright. You win. I'll buy you something to drink, whatever you want."

Ergou beamed. "Deal. I'm free all afternoon, come find me anytime."

"Wait a sec—weren't you just busy?"

Noon.

Yoren and the gang trotted back to his second uncle's house for lunch, a band of tired soldiers returning from battle.

At the table, Hurd looked at Yoren seriously. "Yoren, I know you're smart and ambitious, but business isn't as easy as you think. What's your education level?"

Yoren swallowed his mouthful of rice before answering. "Honestly? I've never gone to school—not here anyway. But I don't think that matters. Don't worry, second uncle. One day I'll make enough to buy you a bigger house."

He meant it. Back in his original world, he was a college student. But here, all of that meant nothing. He was starting from zero.

Hurd shook his head, unconvinced. "You've never studied, so you can't manage finances. I could tell from the house you rented—just throwing money around. I don't even know what kind of business you're running, but it's got money pit written all over it."

Yoren put down his chopsticks and smiled.

"I might not be able to do the books, but I can find someone who can. Don't worry, second uncle. I'll take care of it."

Afternoon.

With ACE's help, Yoren hauled out every usable piece of furniture from Sister Li's warehouse. It took some effort, but by sunset, their little headquarters had taken shape.

A battered sofa near the entrance, a few chairs, a large desk at the back of the hall—his makeshift command center. In the side rooms, they arranged a few spare desks and chairs. Yoren didn't know what he'd use them for yet, but it felt right to have them.

Extra odds and ends sat in the back courtyard, waiting to be sorted. The place was rough, but it was theirs.

And now, he realized, he needed someone else—an outsider.

An accountant.

It wasn't about pride. It was necessity. If they wanted to grow, they needed structure. Talents wouldn't just fall from the sky forever; sometimes, you had to build them. Finances, costs, income—all of it required attention. He couldn't expect his companions to fight one moment and balance a ledger the next. And someone had to manage their money.

Even if, right now, he could count all their cash on both hands.

Still. Planning had to come first. He sent ACE to place a recruitment ad at the local paper.

With that handled, Yoren finally slumped into the boss's chair, staring ahead in thought.

The next big question loomed:

What now?

What would they do to make money? How would they grow? Where would they start?

Objectively, the four of them could pull off feats most people couldn't even imagine. But they were also fully capable of botching the simplest task. To reduce risk and avoid disaster, Yoren needed to think this through. No more winging it. No more taking things as they came.

He needed a plan.

And that started with the one thing that had pushed him to start his own organization in the first place: the light manganese ore controlled by the Leaf family.

But seizing it—or profiting from it—was a massive problem. He couldn't just stroll into the Liye estate and grab Donde by the collar until he coughed up half the supply.

That wasn't how this worked.

Even if he did manage to scare Donde into handing it over, it wouldn't stick. Light manganese ore wasn't some unclaimed loot—it was a national resource. Officially, it belonged to the royal family of Victoria. The Leaf family were just contractors. They mined the ore, paid their taxes, and passed the rest along. As far as appearances went, everything was legal.

If he tried to steal it outright, it would set off a chain reaction. The local authorities would get involved. Maybe even the military.

It was like chess. You didn't go for the king without covering your flanks first. Every exit needed to be blocked, every counterattack anticipated.

He wanted that ore. That was non-negotiable. But to get it, he'd need a strategy. The cake couldn't be cut until the candle stuck in it was snuffed out.

That candle was the Frido Chamber of Commerce.

One of the biggest underworld players in Southern Victoria, the Frido Chamber served as the logistical muscle. The Leaf family mined the ore. Frido handled smuggling, transport, protection, and cleanup. And if the goods crossed borders, the Haimen Gang stepped in.

Leaf Family. Frido Chamber. Haimen Gang.

Three pillars of an illegal empire.

The night Yoren bombed Donde's factory, he hadn't just slapped one group—he'd insulted all three.

If he kept confronting them head-on, he'd bring down a firestorm. From gangsters to white-collar crooks, everyone would be out for his blood.

That was suicide.

No. He needed to dismantle Frido first.

Take out the candle. Then take the cake.

"You guys really make me worry," he muttered, shaking his head with a faint smile. "Alright... I'll stay. I'll clean up the messes you all leave behind. Who else is gonna do it? Who else but your big brother?"