Kal'tsit felt profoundly perplexed by the sudden transition of ownership within their logistics company. It was even more bizarre to consider what kind of person would deliberately purchase a half-dead, struggling merchant firm. Wouldn't established entities find it vastly more convenient to simply build a new enterprise from scratch rather than acquire one?
After all, orchestrating the foundation of a standard logistics company posed no real structural difficulty. If one desperately lacked experienced personnel, they could easily wait for the firm to spiral into bankruptcy and subsequently poach the veteran workers directly. Kal'tsit found herself entirely incapable of comprehending what their new proprietor hoped to achieve by executing this specific business transaction. Concurrently, they had actively re-equipped these Infected workers with superior assets—this new owner truly operated on a vastly different wavelength compared to the standard logistics executives she had crossed paths with over the years.
"Though the compensation and benefits provided by the new boss are exceptionally generous, the sheer workload he demands is honestly a bit overwhelming. The orders require us to constantly cycle back and forth across various national borders. If the new boss weren't entirely comfortable with aggressively recruiting more Infected workers to distribute the burden, we probably would have succumbed to overwork long before our Oripathy even had a chance to flare up."
Despite the Lupo captain's vocal complaints regarding the grueling nature of the workload, the lingering expression painted across his features informed Kal'tsit that he thoroughly savored this lifestyle; he was even eager to take on more deliveries. Operating under this high-volume schedule meant he could secure vastly superior medical remedies, thereby granting himself a window to survive just a little bit longer. Even if Oripathy stood as an absolute terminal illness, who on earth would object to extending their active lifespan?
Listening to his continuous narrative, Kal'tsit plunged directly into deep contemplation. An enterprise possessing an active network spanning multiple nations, yet choosing to arbitrarily acquire a nearly bankrupt logistics firm on a whim—no matter how one analyzed it, the scenario harbored a distinct trace of underlying complications. Either this organization was newly established and possessed an absolute mountain of surplus capital, making direct acquisition faster than building from the ground up, or the opposing party was orchestrating a massive scheme and intended to utilize these Infected workers as mere scapegoats to shoulder the eventual fallout.
"Boss! The brothers deployed toward the east have detected the patrol convoy of the imperial Strikers! We had best pull back and clear out immediately to prevent those bastards from locking us down!"
The scouting detachments deployed along the outer perimeter consisted entirely of non-Infected individuals disguised as minor merchant caravans. Despite the volatile tension universally lingering between the Infected and non-Infected populaces, these scouts were entirely willing to tolerate cooperation for the sake of securing a proper living.
Furthermore, these individuals didn't maintain an exceptionally rigid fixation regarding the divide between Infected and non-Infected. After all, when venturing out into the harsh wilderness, who could possibly guarantee they wouldn't accidentally contract the infection themselves? If one thoroughly alienated the Infected population now, how would they survive if they ultimately joined their ranks down the line?
"Understood! Everyone, pack up the gear immediately, we are pulling out! Let's make an earnest push to clear this territory within two days. Once we hit the open barrens, we won't have to remain this wound up!"
Kal'tsit and Jeanne refrained from disrupting their synchronized packing process, silently observing the crew as they struck the tents in an impeccably orderly, efficient fashion. Shortly thereafter, the duo climbed back into the interior of the transport vehicle they had arrived in, navigating out of the area as the caravan began its retreat.
"You seem remarkably familiar with these people?" Jeanne noted, watching Kal'tsit handle the entire situation with practiced, casual ease. It was glaringly obvious that the doctor had crossed paths with this transport caravan on a multitude of past occasions; executing a hitchhiking maneuver with this level of familiarity wasn't a skill one perfected through a mere single encounter.
"Did I not already state previously that Babel maintains active commercial transactions with this caravan? Coupled with the reality that they are comprised of Infected who constantly require medical expertise, our frequent interactions naturally fostered a close acquaintance over time."
The look Kal'tsit cast toward Jeanne as she delivered her response was perfectly clear, subtly implying: Did I not already break down these exact circumstances for you previously? Is there truly some profoundly complex element here that you struggle to comprehend?
While Jeanne had indeed been cognizant of Babel's commercial transactions with these individuals, she hadn't anticipated that Kal'tsit would personally venture out to manage relations with them. Couldn't a task of this nature be easily delegated to a standard subordinate?
Kal'tsit naturally deciphered the underlying question swirling within Jeanne's gaze. Without waiting for the girl to voice her thoughts, she shook her head gently and clarified: "There is no alternative. Babel cannot afford to arbitrarily commission a random logistics caravan to handle the transport of our essential goods. Consequently, this specific fleet must be personally vetted and investigated by our own hands to guarantee absolute security."
Jeanne's foundational logic wasn't entirely incorrect; under standard circumstances where the overall geopolitical landscape wasn't wound so tight, a merchant convoy that didn't qualify as a core strategic partner wouldn't require such rigorous, painstaking oversight. However, Babel currently operated in a state where they absolutely could not afford a single point of failure. Even if this fleet wasn't tasked with transporting their most critical or highly sensitive materials, any unforeseen disaster befell them would still translate into a substantial loss for Babel—and neither the Doctor nor Kal'tsit harbored any desire to let such a loss manifest.
Hearing Kal'tsit's breakdown, Jeanne nodded her head in silent comprehension. Previously, she had simply assumed that given the sheer volume of critical matters demanding Kal'tsit's attention, the doctor wouldn't possess the spare time or energy to oversee minor logistics. Does this woman literally never sleep?
"Phew! After scrambling around for so long, we've finally managed to get the caravan moving smoothly. By the way, Dr. Kal'tsit, where exactly did our conversation cut off just now?"
Not long after the vehicles roared to life and initiated their departure, the caravan captain, having concluded his directional duties, executed a swift leap directly into the rear cabin of Jeanne's transport to enthusiastically resume his dialogue with Kal'tsit. Fortunately, the rear seating compartment of this cargo transport was remarkably spacious; even with three individuals resting inside, it didn't feel the slightest bit cramped. Jeanne estimated that even if another three individuals climbed in, there would still be ample space to spare.
Furthermore, this caravan captain appeared to be exceptionally gregarious and talkative. Despite the caravan having already initiated its journey, he opted not to remain in the lead vehicle to direct the column, choosing instead to specifically run back to this cabin to pick up the threads of his previous topic with Kal'tsit.
"Is there no requirement for you to oversee the column's direction?" Kal'tsit questioned. She certainly hadn't anticipated that this fellow would actively abandon his post at the front of the convoy the moment they set out just to sit by her side and chatter away. This man was the absolute commander of the caravan; regardless of what unforeseen complications materialized along the route—even if they ran straight into a localized Catastrophe—he was the one responsible for orchestrating their evasion! For him to be lounging back here with the two of them was highly unusual.
"Ah, I merely harbor a few critical matters I desperately wished to consult your expertise on! Besides, my brothers have navigated this specific route a multitude of times; if any standard complications manifest, they are perfectly cognizant of how to handle it."
The Lupo captain, displaying his prominent wolf head, flashed a thoroughly compliant, pleasing smile toward Kal'tsit. Watching this hardened, rugged individual project such a soft, pleading grin filled Jeanne with a sudden wave of intense curiosity regarding just how monumental this issue must be for him to seek Kal'tsit's counsel.
"Speak," Kal'tsit offered no direct rejection, merely casting a cold, detached glance his way as she delivered the succinct, one-word prompt.
The fellow appeared entirely unfazed by the icy detachment woven into Kal'tsit's tone. Maintaining his highly compliant smile, he locked his gaze onto the doctor and detailed his thoughts: "The primary source of my unease stems from our new proprietor. Although his treatment of our crew is genuinely impeccable, I can't shake this persistent feeling that the entire setup is profoundly unreliable."
A genuine trace of anxiety rippled across the captain's features. Noting the look flashing through Kal'tsit's eyes—which practically screamed at the very least, your intellect hasn't entirely rotted away to nothingness—he continued his explanation: "It isn't that I suspect them of harboring some dark, malicious conspiracy; it's just that the core nature of their operation feels entirely bizarre. They claim to be a charitable rescue and relief corporation. You tell me, in a brutal world like this, launching a dedicated charity company... it feels completely absurd. Furthermore, what kind of sane enterprise chooses 'Infinite Love Mutual Aid Society' as their official corporate title?! It's entirely ridiculous!"
It was, without a doubt, exceptionally bizarre. Did the founders of this organization not experience a single shred of profound embarrassment when they actively voiced that title aloud? To engineer a name of that caliber, the individual responsible was truly a unique specimen.
Jeanne found herself nodding along in silent agreement as she listened to the gentleman's narrative. That name had genuinely crossed the threshold of standard absurdity; if she were to ever pitch a title like that to Talulah for their own faction, Talulah would likely roast her alive and consume her on the spot.
Concurrently, the absolute mask of cold detachment dominating Kal'tsit's expression shifted ever so slightly.
"Indeed. I have personally never caught wind of a charitable rescue organization operating under that specific designation," Kal'tsit spoke. Though her vocal track remained as thoroughly icy and monotone as before, Jeanne was absolutely certain the woman was secretly snickering internally.
"Exactly! Even if you named it the 'Terra Relief Center,' it would sound a thousand times better than this garbage! Honestly, if the vast majority of the executives and liaisons managing the operational branches weren't comprised of Sankta, I would have handed in my resignation and fled long ago!"
The Sankta—in the eyes of the general populace of Terra, that specific race was universally viewed as a demographic incapable of executing underhanded, deceitful, or shady dealings. This foundational perception stood as the sole reason he had chosen to suppress his mountain of suspicions and retain his position within the firm.
Well, that part makes perfect sense! What kind of regular company possesses the sheer leverage required to employ an absolute legion of Sankta workers?! Those fellows usually aren't even willing to step outside the boundaries of Laterano City... Wait a minute, Sankta?!
Right as Jeanne was internally mocking the corporate name, the core reality of his statement finally registered within her mind. He had explicitly declared that this organization was established by a massive collective of Sankta!
In an instant, a profoundly ominous, terrifying presentiment surged violently into her heart.