"Christmas is coming, and 100 dignitaries in the political world have signed a joint prayer that the war will be over in 2178?"

-- International Outlook

***

December 25, 2177.

Man-made snow blanketed the maritime city overnight, a treatment that is only twice a year for Rimlia and the other during the Chinese New Year.

This maritime city, numbered No. 47, runs along the Pacific Loop all year round, and it does not snow on the sea, so this snow is precious. In fact, even though they knew that it would consume a lot of energy, increase the burden on the drainage system, and increase the probability of traffic accidents, the people of Remria's autonomy voted overwhelmingly to make the proposal for artificial snow for Christmas and the Spring Festival.

"The more people who are struggling with poverty are about festivals, the more enthusiastic they are, because apart from festivals, they have no other days to numb themselves and justifiably stop running for their livelihoods."

The 26-year-old Ling Yu stood in front of the window, looking at the silver-covered city outside the window, remembering the mockery of his friend Logan Craig as always, and showed a helpless smile.

"Garlic, I'm up."

Ling Yu, who watched a movie at home until the early hours of the morning last night, yawned, and the young man who had not yet washed his head was holding a chicken nest and shouted outside the door.

More than ten seconds later, a garbage can-like housekeeping machine pushed open the door of the room, and against the red light that represented "in failure", he walked to Ling Yu's bed along the familiar path, and roughly squeezed his master away.

"Anyway, for the sake of me picking you up and repairing it, don't be so rough next time, okay?"

Looking at the machine qì man who was spreading his mechanical arm and making the bed and folding the quilt, Ling Yu muttered meaninglessly.

The man looked up, flashing his signal lights, trying to find the predetermined command words from the sentence, but apparently to no avail.

Ling Yu naturally didn't explain to a machine, patted the head of the steel can, walked out of the room, and went downstairs to wash.

Turning off the faucet, the young man glanced at the familiar and unfamiliar face of himself in the mirror, then closed his eyes and buried his whole head in the sink.

The water in the washbasin slowly flooded his face, and the water was cold, like the water in the landscape river in the playground sixteen years ago, but not as salty as the sea that burned fourteen years ago, and it smelled salty or bloody.

Even he didn't know if it was a nostalgia, but whenever he tried to keep himself awake in this way, he thought of his parents, who died in a terrorist attack on a playground when he was 10 years old, and the massacre that belonged to Heisenberg, a military test facility at sea.

These were two turning points in his life, and both of them were closely related to the notorious militarist terrorist, the Anti-Cartel Monopoly Association, or ACA. If the playground bombing 16 years ago made him decide to use hatred as the motivation to survive, then the attack on the scientific research facility Heisenberg 14 years ago, and the subsequent political betrayal behind the government's policy of non-accountability, dashed his naïve hopes for the global strategic defense alliance, or rather, the alliance.

The icy water blocked his ability to breathe, and even as a physically strengthened TF, he couldn't escape the law that an organic organism needed oxygen to survive. Yet, even as the pain of suffocation made him crush at the edge of the cracked sink, the youth was stubbornly reluctant to lift his head.

The alliance has long been infiltrated by the ACA, or rather, the two are fundamentally symbiotic in a sense, when the chief of the guard of "Heisenberg" pulled the trigger on his colleagues, and then opened the lock to allow the ACA commandos to dock and land, the possibility of Ling Yu's revenge was cut off, not to mention the order prohibiting military retaliation against the ACA.

He can no longer trust the Alliance, and if none of the world's only super-military coalition can help you get revenge, who else will.

The crisp sound of water came, Ling Yu lay on the sink, his hands trembled violently because of lack of oxygen, slowly raised his hand, the young man wiped the water from his face, took a deep breath, and took out the toothpaste and toothbrush.

Whether you can get revenge or not, you have to live, even if you are in such a safe corner, you have to live without your name and past, just like the sun will rise as usual no matter what kind of wind and snow.

Because this is the wish of those who have died.

***

"Ding--"

When Ling Yu was just about to flush the toothpaste foam from his mouth, the doorbell rang crisply.

Someone would have visited at this time.

Without much hesitation, Ling Yu, who didn't have many friends in this city with a population of four million, walked to the door with a toothbrush in his mouth, anyway, the salesman must be on vacation, and the familiar faces who would come to the door at such a time must be those tasks that would bring him danger and a lot of money.

Unfortunately, he guessed wrong this time, and when he opened the door, what appeared in front of him was a blue that did not match the snow.

"Hello, is this Mr. Ling Yu?"

This opening line was a bit like a salesman, but with just a glance, Ling Yu understood that the person who came could definitely not be a salesman.

The girl in front of her has bright blonde hair, under her blue eyes, her small nose is not flushed by the cold weather, and the girl with a polite smile is slightly raised at the corner of her mouth, more like a perfect sculpture than a human being, giving people a static beauty like an inorganic creation object.

However, Ling Yu frowned, not because of this beautiful face, but because of the girl's blue classical riding costume - although under the "New Renaissance" ideology, there are not a few people who wear European or Chinese ancient costumes on the streets, but this set of clothes will only belong to one group.

"Privy Cavalry", popularly known, "Knights".

"Hello, is this Mr. Ling Yu?"

As if feeling that the other party did not hear her words clearly, the girl repeated again, and raised the curvature of the corners of her mouth a little to show her friendliness, a gust of cold wind gently lifted her translucent skirt, and the classical metal ornaments on the boots under the trousers reflected a dazzling light in the snow.

"Do you have something to deliver?"

Ling Yu took the toothbrush out of his mouth, not only because he was nervous about the other party's identity but also because of the other party's beauty, the older unmarried young man subconsciously swallowed a mouthful of saliva full of toothpaste.

"No, to be exact, I hope to get a job with you."

"Bang--"

The tightly closed door gave the girl who was trying to find a job a crisp answer, and the young man who had hidden in the house dressed at superhuman speed, and took out the Type 2125 pistol from the cabinet while rinsing the toothpaste from his mouth.

Of course, the reason for this qiē is not because he plans to tidy up his appearance and confess to the girl outside the door, but because he still has a mouth full of toothpaste foam when he doesn't want to run for his life.

As a "courier", Ling Yu's job is obviously not as simple as an ordinary courier, in fact, his work is not legal, very illegal.

20 years ago, the GSDC, or rather, the allied government passed the "Icarus No. 1 Act" that restricted the circulation of prehistoric civilization technology, but since ancient times, it is only supply and demand that determines the transaction itself, not the law, and Ling Yu is very fortunate to be a link in this illegal chain - when the buyer and seller reach an agreement, these products and even technologies of prehistoric civilization technology will be smuggled to their destination by a special person to evade the customs and security departments of the alliance. In addition, these smugglers, commonly known as "couriers", are sometimes responsible for escorting, collecting payments on behalf of others, and preventing black and even black and black work.

As if it was revenge for the alliance that couldn't help him avenge himself, Ling Yu even enjoyed a job that could release the resentment that had been suppressed in his heart for a long time—whether it was the thrill of escaping the pursuit or the pleasure of taking out those scumbags, especially when the target on the other side of the crosshair's was the brutes of the ACA.

However, illegal work means high risk, and there is only one reason why Ling Yu is so jealous of the girls outside the door - the Privy Cavalry, also known as the organization of the "Knights", is the source of all prehistoric civilization technology - the administrators of the "Ark", and most of the "Knights" are qualified to arrest illegal smuggling without notifying the law enforcement agencies of the allied government.

According to Ling Yu's knowledge, these knights preferred to "kill" directly rather than "capture".

However, it was probably the ice water poured into his mouth that suppressed his frenzied adrenaline, and the young man, who was forced to run away through the window, thought for a moment, stuffed the pistol into the holster under his armpit, then straightened the hem of his jacket, cleared his throat, and held the doorknob again like a college graduate preparing for an interview.

The reason was simple, he had the impression that the Knights never negotiated with people they thought should be "eliminated", and to take a step back, even if the Knights really came from thousands of miles away from the other side of the world to find trouble for him, they should have just pulled out their swords and killed them, instead of being polite and calling themselves "sir".

The knights' favorite thing is to use strength to break through skill, and they disdain to show the enemy weakness and other tactics.

With their brains filled, the knights shouted with their swords, "Heresy! Come on! In the scene of dismantling himself, Ling Yu slowly turned the doorknob and opened the door a crack with a little entanglement. He regretted not having a cat's eye or camera on the door, but the regret was fleeting, as he was surprised to find that the blue outside the door was gone, replaced by a snowdrift more than a man tall.

"The ......"

The snowdrift shuddered slightly, and then a blue arm stretched out from the inside of the snowdrift, revealing the head of the blonde girl, and a smile of embarrassment compared to the previous one.

"Is this an onboarding interview?"

***

"I apologize for accidentally shaking the snow off the roof and almost burying you alive, but first of all, let's be clear, one yard is one yard, and this apology doesn't mean I don't think you have hostile intentions."

Ling Yu sat on the sofa in the living room, trying to hide his crampedness with his crossed legs, watching the trash can-like "garlic" use his mechanical arm to put a cup of hot water on the coffee table in front of the girl, the blonde girl touched the head of the machine with a warm smile, and as if in response, the "garlic" was probably a few indicators on the chest that had long lost their indication function and flashed for a while.

"So, what the hell are you here for?"

Ling Yu tapped lightly on the coffee table in front of him with his fingers, and there was a little impatience in his tone, as if he felt that he had lost his sense of existence because the girl opposite was focusing all her attention on the broken machine.

"Jeunse, Jeunese Miele."

The blonde girl held up the coffee cup in front of her, which was brand new because there were so few visitors.

"Just call me Jeunse, Mr. Ling Yu."

The girl with an elegant smile again generously gave her name, but Ling Yu's brows did not stretch.

"As far as I know, the people of the Order attach great importance to the distinction between names, and for outsiders, they can only call you by your surname, not by your name."

"Hehe, it seems that Mr. Ling Yu has a very deep understanding of the Knights."

The girl named Jesse raised her hand, pursed her lips and smiled, then blinked and gave an explanation.

"Yes, that's true, but since I'm here to apply, then you're my boss, so you naturally have the right to know my name and call me by my name."

"Wait, what's going on, even if I'm sure you're telling the truth, but you know what I'm doing, right? You are a knight of the Knights, isn't your mission to control the circulation of the products of prehistoric civilization? What's the deal with applying for a job with me? ”