(T/N): Added an extra three chapters since I finally managed to pull evernight lol
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"Little one?"
Phainon's gaze fell on Stelle, "You agreed?"
The unconcealed concern made Stelle a little flustered, and she subconsciously shook her head.
"I haven't agreed yet."
"Tsk."
Little Ms. Herta clicked her tongue impatiently, squeezed between the two, crossed her arms, and looked up at them.
"Alright, don't put on such a hard-to-understand show in front of me."
"You name your conditions. This genius is very interested right now and will accommodate anything."
She pointed a finger directly at Stelle.
"You, you have a Stellaron in your body. Don't look at how stable it is now; it's a cosmic-level bomb that could explode at any time, with unknown power and unknown side effects. Aren't you afraid it'll screw you over one day?"
Then, her fingertip turned to Phainon.
"And you... a burning body, a deranged mind, plus a blessing from a god of revelry."
"You're like a program full of bugs right now, yet it still runs efficiently."
"Don't you think this is very interesting?"
"Let me tell you, it's only now that I'm still a little interested in you. Once I lose my enthusiasm, even if you kneel and beg me, I won't bother to look at you again."
Stelle was utterly confused, completely unable to understand the deeper meaning of Ms. Herta's words.
But Phainon's thoughts were incredibly clear.
He was a brand new Phainon, carrying a memory that should not have existed in this universe.
The essence of Amphoreus was a virtual world calculated by the Emperor Scepter.
To save Amphoreus, one must cross the "Iron Tomb"!
So... "My condition..."
A hint of all-knowing amusement appeared in Phainon's eyes.
"I'm afraid you... can't afford it."
"Oh?"
Little Ms. Herta raised an eyebrow, her face filled with the absolute confidence characteristic of the "Genius Club."
"Tell me, it'll be good to make my clever brain crash for a bit."
March 7th nervously glanced at Himeko, that was Ms. Herta!
However, Himeko just shook her head slightly, signaling her to remain calm.
She understood Ms. Herta's personality, but also believed that Phainon was not shooting blanks.
After a moment of silence, Phainon spoke,
"A... key... that can control the 'Emperor Scepter'."
The air seemed to freeze at this moment.
"Emperor Scepter?"
Stelle and March 7th blinked blankly, completely unaware of what those four words represented.
However, the usual calm smile on Himeko's face froze at this moment.
As the navigator of the Express, she had once glimpsed that terrifying name in Dan Heng's databank—Rupert II, the one who created the "Second Imperial War."
And the Emperor Scepter was the creation of that mad emperor.
But, only Ms. Herta.
The genius's laziness, amusement, and curiosity on her face... gradually faded.
It was replaced by an extreme calmness.
Phainon ignored everyone's expressions and continued speaking to himself.
"My life... my soul... everything I am... this is my bargaining chip."
"their value is equivalent to a key to the 'Emperor Scepter'."
Phainon leaned slightly forward, his cold gaze locking onto the puppet in front of him.
"The chips are on the table."
"The question is... Ms. Herta, the 83rd member of the Genius Club, can you accept it?"
"..."
Little Ms. Herta fell silent.
A moment later, she snorted coldly.
"Hmph... trying to stump this genius? A mere Emperor Scepter is nothing!"
As soon as she finished speaking.
Sizzle—
A sound of electric current flashed.
The lively eyes of the Ms. Herta puppet gradually dimmed, and she mechanically stepped back, clearing the way for everyone.
A emotionless electronic voice sounded.
"Puppet #9527, entering standby mode..."
[Joy collected: 20 (Hehehe... He's watching, He's laughing!)]
Phainon glanced at the prompt on the panel, and the corner of his mouth under the mask curved slightly.
Aha, you lunatic.
March 7th scratched her head, muttering, "Is this... Ms. Herta retreating?"
"No."
Himeko slowly spoke, looking at Phainon with a complex gaze.
"The genius who created the Simulated Universe doesn't run away. Perhaps she just needs time to prepare an equivalent bargaining chip."
With that, Himeko looked meaningfully at Phainonand Stelle.
"By the way, I need to add something. Ms. Herta's interest in things comes and goes quickly. Once she feels you've lost your research value, she'll likely ignore you."
"I can offer another option: come with me, and board the Astral Express."
Himeko's words were directed at both of them, but she knew in her heart that Phainon's destination was Amphoreus, a place the Trailblazer had not yet ventured.
The Astral Express was his only choice.
The one who truly needed to make a choice was—Stelle.
Everyone's gaze fell on Stelle.
Stelle's gaze swept over everyone, finally landing on Phainon, but the black-robed man just stood there silently, not saying a word.
"Do you all want me to board the Express?"
"Of course! Does that even need to be said?" March 7th was the first to answer, "We got along so well on this journey, and we're the same age! Just those two points are rare enough!"
Himeko saw Stelle's confusion and said gently:
"I know the Stellaron inside you makes you uneasy and feel special. But I hope you can discover the meaning of this specialness through your own journey."
"You need to experience enough to know what you gained and lost because of the 'Stellaron', and... who you truly are."
"Only by learning to control it can you truly control your own destiny."
Stelle looked at Phainon, the only one who hadn't spoken, the black-robed man just stood there silently, not saying a word.
"But, I want to stay at the Space Station."
Stelle's voice was very soft, but the moment she said that.
Phainon suddenly spoke, his voice terrifyingly quiet, "If it's me that makes you uncomfortable."
He wasn't asking, but stating a fact he had already determined, "I can get off the Express."
"Ah?" Stelle hadn't expected him to think that way and quickly waved her hand, "It's not because of you!"
Phainon pressed, "Then what is it?"
"I always feel like I was born here, and I should belong here."
Before she finished speaking.
The surrounding air immediately became scorching hot!
In Phainon's mind, memories of over thirty million cycles flashed—
Killing Cyrene, killing the Golden Descendants, personally destroying his homeland... again and again!
In that endless darkness and despair, the only solace was the prophecy about the "Pale Dawn."
She was the fantasy that shattered the galaxy and fell into my dreams.
She was the power I searched for across galaxies for you.
She was the only starlight the gods left me in my most difficult times.
I waited for over thirty million cycles, the only hope in my heart.
A phrase, "I should belong here," and I'm supposed to miss out?
[Current emotion: Nearly berserk]
No!
I absolutely forbid it!
"Hahaha... madman of destruction..."
Laughter appeared in his mind, Phainon gradually sobered, the madness quietly fading.
Can't be made fun of!
It's not like there's no way, Joy!
I can use the authority of Joy, Make-believe reality!
He glanced at the system panel.
[Joy collected: 20]
He smiled, took a step, and slowly walked towards Stelle.
Stelle looked at him in this posture and felt her scalp tingle, instinctively taking a step back.
One moment this man looked like he was going to destroy the world, the next... why was he smiling so happily?
"You don't want to leave, do you?" Phainon asked softly.
Stelle nodded warily, not speaking.
Suddenly, Phainon raised his hand and pointed behind Stelle, his tone incredibly solemn, "Look, what's that?"
Stelle subconsciously looked back.
She saw that on the empty ground behind her, at some unknown point, a silver-gray, muscular trash can stood there!
It stood with their arms crossed, striking a powerful bodybuilding pose, and holy light seemed to flow around their barrel.
"!!!!"
Stelle thought she was seeing things and rubbed her eyes hard.
Hmm! It's real!
But the next moment, that mighty trash can vanished like a bubble.
"Huh? Where's the can? Where's my can?"
Phainon: "That is the spirit residing in the Astral Express—King Under One Can. You have a high probability of meeting him on the Express! And..."
He paused, and with a strange and serious tone, offered an irresistible condition,
"How about I help you move all the trash cans from the Space Station onto the Express? Then you can play Jenga."
Stelle frowned tightly. She glanced at Phainon, her mind seemingly undergoing a very profound thought process.
"Deal! I'm getting on the Express!"
[Joy collected: 30]
—
At the same time.
Space Station, Ms. Herta's office.
In the darkness, countless Ms. Herta puppets stood silently.
Suddenly, all the puppets seemed to receive some supreme command, uniformly kneeling on one knee, devoutly extending their hands.
As if welcoming their only god.
In the space, a figure appeared out of thin air.
It was a young girl, identical in appearance to the puppets, yet exuding a completely different aura.
She floated in mid-air like a witch, riding a magnificent staff, slowly descending amidst the crowd.
She was the true Ms. Herta.
The real Ms. Herta looked at a full-length mirror.
"Fourth mirror, bring up the footage of his appearance."
"As you wish, great Ms. Herta."
Ripples appeared on the mirror, and a cold electronic voice sounded, "Everything is already prepared for you."
The moment before the image played, the electronic voice sounded again, with a hint of uncontrollable curiosity, "Ms. Herta, forgive my impertinence. Why are you so interested in 'Phainon'?"
"You seem to be talking a bit too much."
Ms. Herta's gaze remained on the mirror, her tone flat, "Do I need to rewrite your core program for you?"
"No! No! I apologize profusely, madam! Please watch!"
The mirror no longer dared to make any sound, and a scene began to emerge within the mirror's surface.
At the center of the scene was a brilliant galaxy.
A dazzling white light flashed without warning.
Immediately after, Phainon, dressed in a black robe and wearing a golden mask, appeared abruptly in the galaxy, as if shaped out of thin air by an invisible printer.
The next second, the whistle of the Astral Expressroared in.
The real Ms. Herta rested her chin on one hand, her brows uncharacteristically furrowed tightly.
"mechanical head (Erudition)... what exactly do you want to do?"