Resisting the urge to decompose this line of text and the fish along with it into elementary particles using her ability, Black Herta raised her hand and gently swiped it through the air. A light screen appeared, and data information about this reborn salted fish quickly surfaced:
[Name]: immortal salted fish (Wondrous Item)
[Description]: A salted fish that has experienced extraordinary years and conceptual pollution. Due to the gaze and power immersion of The Aeon of Elation Aha, and its "outstanding" performance in a crucial battle, it has been promoted to a Wondrous Item of the universe.
Its very existence is the interpretation of "taste."
[Attributes]:
1. Immortality: Cannot be destroyed by conventional means.
2. Odor Immunity: The bound holder is completely immune to the smell it emits (highly effective against other units).
3. Skill Library (Passionately named by Aha, please explore effects yourself):
** - Stench Steed: Summons an energy warhorse made of concentrated stench to charge at enemies. (Note: May cause indiscriminate mental attacks on allies)**
** - Ten Thousand Fish Return to Origin: Briefly summons a large number of salted fish phantoms to perform an area-of-effect "scent" bombardment.**
** - Divine Charm · Fishy Odor Permeates the Sky: Unfurls a domain, greatly enhancing all "unpleasant odor" effects within its range, and includes mental interference.**
** - Void Swordfish: Throws the salted fish, transforming it into a (tastefully) sharp sword qi (?).**
** - (More skills to be unlocked...)**
Black Herta looked at this series of skills, whose names alone made her eyes and nose feel uncomfortable, and fell into deep silence.
What in the world is all this?
Meanwhile, Jack, after reading the information on the light screen, her usually dull golden eyes now sparkled like stars!
She stared intently at the floating, reborn immortal salted fish, her gaze like that of a poor boy who had found a lost family heirloom, or a scientist who had discovered a miracle that defied physics!
She reached out her hands, her movements gentle and reverent, as if receiving a sacred object.
Black Herta looked at Jack, who seemed to have found a treasure, her eyes almost turning into stars, and helplessly waved her hand, her tone carrying the weariness of giving up the struggle: "Fine... if you like it, take it yourself."
"Thank you."
Jack's voice was still flat, but her speaking speed seemed to have quickened ever so slightly.
She carefully held the fish, which exuded an "immortal" aura, as if it were a fragile work of art, then pulled out a seemingly clean cloth from somewhere, meticulously wrapped it layer by layer, and finally, treasured it away into her bracelet.
Her movements, her expression, were as if she wasn't putting away a salted fish that could knock out an Envoy, but some crucial key to the universe's survival.
Black Herta watched Jack complete this series of actions, then simply turned around, leaving with a remark: "Tidy up, and prepare for the next agenda."
However, her retreating figure, no matter how one looked at it, carried a deep sense of exasperation with this world.
As for Jack, she touched her wrist, feeling the newly acquired "treasure" inside, and the corner of her mouth beneath the gas mask seemed to curl upwards almost imperceptibly.
Hmm, that trash can was really worth rummaging through.
System Space · Anaxa's Serene Tree Garden
After dealing with the interlude involving Jack and the "immortal salted fish," Madam Herta's figure quietly appeared in another re-defined space.
Here, it had transformed into a serene night sky, with soft green grass underfoot, adorned with gently glowing plants. A gnarled and vigorous giant tree stood at the center, starlight-like specks of light flowing through its branches and leaves, with a flat clearing beside it.
The entire space was filled with tranquility. The system had clearly custom-built this new "residence" for Anaxa, based on his identity as the "founder of the Sapient Seed School."
Black Herta stepped into this space, her purple-black Lolita dress skirt brushing against the glowing grass.
She looked around: the giant tree, the grass, the starry sky—the scenery was beautiful, but the Golden Descendants himself, who had just experienced a "taste baptism," was nowhere to be seen.
Frowning slightly, she could clearly sense Anaxa's presence lingering in this space, like the breathing of the trees, integrated with this world, yet he seemed to be deliberately hiding.
"Anaxa?"
Black Herta's clear, cold voice echoed under the serene night sky, carrying a hint of inquiry.
No response.
Only the glowing plants swayed slightly.
She paused, then used his more formal name: "Anaxagoras?"
Still, only the sound of the wind and the rustling of plants answered.
Black Herta could feel the presence fluctuate, but the other party still showed no intention of appearing.
She pondered for a moment, then understood: it was likely that the "salted fish to the face" experience just now was too shocking, leaving the Scholar with lingering fears.
She felt a bit helpless, but her tone remained calm: "Don't worry, that salted fish... is no longer here."
No sooner had she spoken than Black Herta's keen senses caught a faint, heavily suppressed sound of "Ugh..." coming from the direction of the giant tree.
Black Herta's lips twitched almost imperceptibly.
It seemed she had truly left a psychological shadow on this teacher; he couldn't even bear to have it mentioned.
She no longer insisted on him appearing immediately. She raised her hand and gently swiped it through the air, and an entrance shimmering with countless stars, as if connected to an endless ocean of knowledge, quietly opened above the clearing.
"This is the entrance to the simulated universe,"
Black Herta introduced, her voice calm, "Although it's just a replica based on the Herta Space Station project, its knowledge system and cosmic model are quite complete. If you're curious about the outside world, or want something to pass the time... you can go in and take a look."
She looked at the still silent space and continued: "Then you should rest well for now. I'll visit again later."
With that, she prepared to turn and leave this tree garden.
Just as her figure was about to fade and depart from the place—
A slightly hoarse but unusually cold male voice finally came softly from the direction of the giant tree, very light, yet clearly reaching Black Herta's ears:
"Thanks."
Black Herta's departing movement paused almost imperceptibly.
Although it was only two short words, the rationality and restraint they contained brought her a sense of relief.
It seemed that after defeating his berserk state, the consciousness of the Scholar, known for his rationality, was returning.
She nodded slightly, no longer lingering, and her figure completely vanished into the tree garden.
Astral Express
Black Herta's figure re-materialized inside the Astral Express carriage.
The scene before her carried a sense of post-catastrophe (specifically, olfactory) normalcy.
Long Night Moon had returned at some point, lounging lazily on the sofa, her crimson eyes filled with playful amusement, twirling Cyrene's pink hair strands with her fingers.
Cyrene's small face was slightly flushed, seemingly a bit embarrassed, but she didn't strongly resist, only softly protesting: "Ms. Long Night Moon... stop teasing."
It seemed that with Anaxa successfully "persuaded," Cyrene's authority had been elevated, allowing her to move freely within the Astral Express, no longer needing to stick close to Black Herta at all times.
Baiheng, looking pale, was sprawled on a nearby table, her snowy fox tail and ears drooping listlessly, a glass of clear water in front of her. She clearly hadn't fully recovered from the "fragrance" that had assaulted her soul.
Jack sat on the other side, intently eating a steaming bucket of instant noodles, as if the person who had pulled out the "big killer" and fought with a gas mask wasn't her.
The system puppet sat quietly on a chair in the corner, its hands neatly placed on its knees, like an exquisite but lifeless ornament.
Seeing Black Herta return, Cyrene immediately escaped Long Night Moon's "clutches," stood up, her azure eyes filled with concern and anticipation: "Madam Herta, how is Anaxa... doing?"
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