Astral Express.
Black Herta comfortably sank into the sofa, her long, grey-white hair cascading around her.
Several light screens floated silently before her, one of which clearly displayed surveillance footage from within the Paradise: Mobius, disguised as a green-haired "little girl," was using an innocent smile and soft words to lead a bewildered Cyrene down the corridor to her personal laboratory.
On the screen, Cyrene's pink hair tips swayed gently with each step, her azure eyes filled only with the hope of finding a way out, completely unaware that she was walking into a snake's nest.
Black Herta's purple-black eyes calmly watched this scene, her doll-like face devoid of expression, only her fingertip tapping lightly on the armrest of the sofa.
(Mobius… so fast.)
This outcome was no surprise.
When Cyrene entered the Paradise, especially when her highly similar aura to Elysia was perceived, Black Herta had anticipated that this one would never let go of such a "research sample" delivered right to her.
"To dive directly into research… that is indeed her style," Black Herta murmured to herself, her voice particularly clear in the empty car.
"But Cyrene won't do."
Intervene directly? For example, have the system forcibly teleport Cyrene out? Or send Mobius a warning?
Black Herta shook her head slightly.
The former was too crude, potentially disrupting the delicate balance within the Paradise, and would make her, the "landlord," seem lacking in style; the latter… for someone like Mobius, a warning would probably only provoke a stronger rebellious spirit.
Just as Black Herta was contemplating, she suddenly sensed an abnormal fluctuation from the Astral Express's data layer.
It wasn't the system operating, but more like data infiltration.
Her gaze shifted from the Paradise surveillance screen to the interface representing the Astral Express's real-time status.
Several lines of encrypted access logs flashed by, pointing to the access coordinates… the Observation Car?
(Oh? A guest?)
A hint of amusement flickered in Black Herta's eyes.
Inside the Stellaron Hunters' stronghold.
Kafka had just received Elio's new instructions. She elegantly raised her wine glass, took a shallow sip, and a hint of doubt flashed in her deep eyes.
"Proceed to Xianzhou Luofu and inform the Astral Express… this node seems to be a bit earlier than expected."
She murmured to herself, her fingertips unconsciously tapping the rim of the glass.
Elio's "script" was always precise, rarely changing temporarily, unless a "variable" capable of disturbing fate appeared.
She immediately thought of that name—the unpredictable Lady Black Herta.
Her very existence was the greatest uncertainty.
Kafka drained the remaining wine in her glass, her composed smile returning to her face.
Regardless, executing Elio's script was her mission.
She turned to the other side of the room, where Silver Wolf was intently staring at several light screens, her fingers dancing across a virtual keyboard, immersed in a game.
"Silver Wolf, I need your help," Kafka's voice was soft yet brooked no refusal.
"Hmm?" Silver Wolf didn't even lift her head, her fingers not stopping, "Speak."
"Project me in data form, real-time, to the Astral Express, Observation Car. Now."
"Now?"
Silver Wolf finally stopped her operations, raised an eyebrow, and showed a hint of surprise, "So urgent? According to previous calculations, the 'official greeting' scene with the Astral Express Crew wasn't supposed to happen for a while, was it?"
Kafka sighed softly, a trace of helplessness in her tone: "The script seems to have had some… minor adjustments. After all, the existence of Lady Black Herta is an unignorable variable."
She paused, "Elio believes some steps need to be advanced."
"Alright, you're the director, I'll listen to you."
Silver Wolf shrugged, asking no further questions.
For her, executing technical tasks was more interesting than dwelling on plot changes.
She quickly brought up several interfaces, her hands operating like butterflies flitting through flowers, as complex data streams and coordinate parameters began to flow across the light screens.
"Coordinates locked… Astral Express, Observation Car. Establishing a stable data link channel… requires the receiving environment there to be relatively stable and free of strong interference. Alright, the pathway is set up, ready to 'appear' at any time. Do you need any entrance effects? Lightning? Petals? Or shimmering light?"
"Simple is fine."
Kafka tidied the hem of her trench coat and stood in the designated teleportation area, "After all, we're not here to perform magic."
"Understood. Teleport countdown, 3, 2, 1…"
Inside the Observation Car.
Himeko (March 7th) sat alone on the long sofa, gazing up at the ceiling, her red hair spread over her shoulders.
Her brows were slightly furrowed, her face showing genuine confusion.
(Long Night Moon… why did she switch our souls? Was it for fun? Or was there some special purpose?)
(And…)
She suddenly noticed that when she thought about these complex problems, her thoughts seemed much clearer and smoother than usual.
(Could it be that using Auntie Himeko's body even makes my brain work better?! Wow, that's amazing!)
Just as she was immersed in this novel "intellectual enhancement" experience—
The space in the center of the car rippled without warning into a faint blue data light particle, rapidly converging like water waves.
The light receded, and a woman in a stylish trench coat, with long purple hair and an elegant demeanor mixed with a hint of mystery and danger, stood gracefully there.
It was Kafka.
The moment Kafka appeared, her gaze quickly swept across the entire car.
Good, only Himeko was there.
That effortless, faint smile naturally appeared on her face, her red lips slightly parted as she spoke in her magnetic voice:
"It seems I've come at an inconvenient time."
According to her understanding of the Astral Express's navigator, the next development should be: Himeko would immediately stand up vigilantly, question why she trespassed on the Astral Express, they would engage in a verbal battle, and then she would smoothly present Elio's "prophecy" to complete this contact.
However—
The "Himeko" on the sofa turned her head at the sound, her face devoid of any vigilance or surprise, only… blank bewilderment.
"?"
Kafka's perfect smile froze for a moment.
March 7th looked at the suddenly appearing Kafka and blinked.
This person… so beautiful and so elegant!
But… who is she?
A bit familiar, seems like I've seen her somewhere… a wanted poster? News? Or in the interstellar newspapers Pom-Pom put away?
…Stellaron Hunters?
She instinctively stood up, a slightly embarrassed expression on her face, and tentatively asked: "Um… you are?"
"Pfft—!"
An unconcealed burst of laughter exploded directly through the encrypted communication channel, ringing in Kafka's ears.
It was Silver Wolf.
Kafka felt her eye twitch.
Didn't recognize her?
Himeko, the navigator of the Astral Express, widely traveled, how could she not recognize her?
The Stellaron Hunters' reputation in the universe was quite resounding.
Is it a disguise? Or… she quickly adjusted her mindset, trying to pull the conversation back to her familiar rhythm, her smile deepening, her tone taking on a perfectly measured hint of teasing: "It seems Miss Himeko has many important acquaintances…"
"Ah!"
The "Himeko" opposite suddenly clapped her hands, her face radiating the confident glow of "I finally remembered!", interrupting Kafka's words.
Kafka stopped in time, ready to receive her correct identification.
Then, "Himeko," with her mature and intellectual face, showed a brilliant smile with a hint of smugness, and declared decisively:
"You are! Sam!"
"Hahahahahahaha—!!!"
In the communication channel, Silver Wolf's laughter instantly exploded, almost pounding the console in hysterics, mixed with indistinct shouts of "Sa-Sam! She thought you were that hunk of iron! Hahaha, Kafka, you got what's coming to you today!"
Kafka: "…"
Her meticulously perfected smile, at this moment, completely froze.
She could even feel a vein throbbing on her forehead.
(Sam?)
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