Nikke, something’s seriously wrong with this evacuation point! Chapter 138 138: The Oppressive Streets

[Confirming current mode. The mode you selected is Disguise Mode. Generating a legitimate identity for you…]

[Generation complete. Confirming identity. Operator Na: Charon. Identity: Ordinary Civilian.]

[Mission Objective: Establish an anchor point at a suitable location and create a Surface Safe Zone.]

[Reward: "???"]

[Extraction Point: Automatically unlocked after Surface Safe Zone Phase Three.]

[Beginning consciousness upload…]

...

The sensation was familiar.

Every ti he entered the Nikke world through Camouflage Mode, Charon would fall into a dizzy haze.

And by the ti he regained his senses, it would feel as though he had always belonged there from the very beginning, appearing naturally in so corner of the world.

Usually, he would appear within a human city rather than a Rapture-occupied zone.

But this ti, his identity no longer carried any official background.

He was just an ordinary civilian.

This run had a mission objective, but it didn't conflict with what he already intended to do, so it was essentially aningless.

The only real advantage was that he no longer needed to search everywhere for an extraction point.

From the start, the activation conditions and timing had already been determined.

As for the reward…

It looked like so sort of key.

The problem was that it was covered by such heavy mosaic censorship that he couldn't make out a single word on it.

A key existed to open a door.

But what kind of door could this possibly unlock?

Forget it.

He'd find out eventually once he obtained it.

...

Returning his attention to reality, Charon checked the items on his person.

Keys. Wallet. Identification papers…

And one particularly precious item–

a ticket to enter the Ark.

The mont he saw it, Charon slowly closed the wallet again, a troubled expression naturally appearing on his face.

He already roughly understood what sort of "setting" this identity had.

Soone who possessed guaranteed entry into the Ark.

aning he no longer had the crushing pressure of survival hanging over him.

The sort of carefree winner in life who wandered around outside all day.

Even the na on the identity was "Noah."

Who knew whether that was another one of the Shelter System's weird jokes.

Unfortunately, he had no idea what purpose this identity was supposed to serve him.

He didn't need it at all.

Still, he decided to keep it.

Maybe soday he would encounter soone who truly needed that ticket, and then he could transfer it to them.

After all, the Ark authorities didn't really care who obtained the ticket.

They only cared that the total population numbers matched expectations.

As for identity verification…

With Charon's connections, that was honestly the easiest problem to solve.

...

Only after he deliberately displayed that troubled expression did the hidden gazes locked onto him slowly withdraw.

The owners of those stares weren't the usual criminals or street thugs.

They were ordinary civilians.

Perfectly normal-looking people.

All of them were standing in line.

An enormous line.

It occupied all six traffic lanes before him.

If not for the overturned luxury cars abandoned at the roadside–and the occasional fully ard patrol soldiers passing through–the crowd would probably have been even larger.

The queue barely moved at all.

Most people weren't even standing.

Wrapped in blankets or heavy coats, they silently curled up on the cold pavent.

They were waiting.

Waiting for the checkpoint ahead–the one marked by an enormous sign reading "Qualification Appeals"–to open.

At least, that was Charon's assumption.

If he guessed correctly, these people were all individuals who had failed to obtain entry quotas for the Ark through the lottery system and were now attempting to squeeze through special channels instead.

Every one of them carried thick docunt folders.

They had practically emptied their savings, all for a single chance to secure continued survival.

It wasn't difficult to imagine what would happen if Charon pulled out that precious ticket right here.

Even if they didn't dare do anything to him directly in front of the patrol soldiers–

once he left, countless people would undoubtedly follow him in secret.

And perhaps not even to steal the ticket.

Simply preventing Charon from entering the Ark would already be enough.

...

The season seed closer to winter.

Last ti he ca here, holess people could only be seen in the Lower Districts.

Now they filled every street and alleyway.

So had likely been abandoned by family mbers who won the lottery.

Others had squandered everything and still failed to obtain qualification.

So had already crossed the survival line long before any of this began.

And now, as they watched the bloodshot-eyed people waiting in line, traces of mockery appeared in their eyes.

Who were they mocking?

Nobody knew.

...

Charon felt deeply uncomfortable inside.

But there was nothing he could do.

That single ticket could save no one.

It would only bring chaos to this place.

He slipped a hand into his wallet and pulled out a business card.

[Elysion Materials Departnt Purchasing Assistant]

Charon's eyes widened instantly.

No wonder this identity possessed an Ark entry ticket.

An employee of one of the Big Three corporations–

and in purchasing, no less. One of the most profitable departnts imaginable.

Should he go visit the company?

…Nah, screw that.

He didn't know a single person there.

...

He took out the key and checked the apartnt address attached to it before beginning to search for his residence.

Compared to the city from his previous visit, this place had far more people crowded into the streets and alleys.

Yet there was no sense of prosperity whatsoever.

After all, a district overrun by refugees could hardly be called lively simply because people managed to survive.

In a place like this, there was nothing Charon could do.

He decided to return to the ho assigned by the system first.

At the very least, he could figure out the current tiline there.

And more importantly–

Rose was already furious.

If he didn't let her out soon, she might genuinely kill soone.

...

Yes.

From the mont he appeared in this world until now, Rose's mouth had not stopped moving for even a second.

Complaining about Raptures.

Complaining about the human governnt.

Even complaining about Liliweiss and the Goddess Squad.

As ntioned before, Rose's true body permanently resided within the Shittim Chest.

Now that Charon could carry it around as personal equipnt, she accompanied him everywhere.

Originally, Charon had planned to let Rose fight alongside him using her physical body.

But her combat ability in that body was actually weaker than Charon himself.

Since her true strength lay in electronic warfare, using the Shittim Chest as her main body was far more suitable anyway.

And it also prevented her from getting kidnapped.

The only downside was that he couldn't hug her anymore.

Though naturally, he would never say that aloud.

...

Still, Charon felt none of that was the real issue.

The real issue was–

they discovered that gas could be installed inside the Shittim Chest.

In other words, Rose and Shiroko had effectively moved the stealth capsule into the Chest itself.

Its processing power was absurdly powerful.

Running gas was effortless.

And so the current situation beca:

Rose played gas while spying on the outside world and simultaneously roasting Charon nonstop.

She was living her absolute best life.

...

Following the address, Charon eventually returned to the ho belonging to this identity.

It seed that only that one district was overcrowded.

Other areas appeared relatively normal.

Though only on the surface.

Every passerby still carried traces of anxiety in their expressions.

His apartnt was extrely clean and tidy.

Like a newly renovated ho where all furniture and belongings had already been perfectly organized–

but nobody had ever actually moved in.

He needed to figure out what exactly this world had beco now.