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Chapter 3: Kafka and the Trailblazer's Secret
Herta had left as well.
After I had briefly grown accustomed to the presence of two people, this secluded villa suddenly returned to absolute silence.
In such a short time, two peerless beauties—both of whom could be described as world-toppling—had suddenly crashed into my life.
And now, they had left again, for similar reasons—their almost paranoid pursuit of the essence of life and the mysteries of the Paths—at least for now (I can only hope it's temporary).
They left me alone, guarding this place filled with their traces, along with that bizarre permission she gave me to "take a few more wives."
This feeling... is an indescribable mix of loss and absurdity.
I sat on the sofa in the living room, my gaze unfocused, resting on the empty coffee table in front of me, my fingers unconsciously rubbing the smooth wooden edge of the sofa armrest.
My mind was a chaotic mess. One moment, I was thinking of Ruan Mei's calm, beautiful face before she left; the next, the focused and charming profile of Herta as she analyzed data; and then, the heart-pounding, almost combustible "street fight" in the corridor...
Just then, "Knock, knock, knock—"
Clear, measured knocking, neither too light nor too heavy, came from the direction of the courtyard gate with a steady rhythm.
My train of thought was instantly broken, and my heart gave a violent jolt.
Who?
Who could be visiting at a time like this?
The first thought that flashed through my mind was an almost instinctive expectation—could it be Ruan Mei or Herta returning?
But as soon as the thought emerged, I immediately dismissed it.
It had been too short a time—unreasonably short.
Especially Herta, who had just left last night.
Given their tendency to be completely absorbed in research once they start—devoting themselves entirely to knowledge—it was impossible for them to interrupt their joint research for any personal matter, especially for me.
They should currently be immersed in the frenzy of cracking the code of life.
Then, who else could it be?
The number of people who knew the exact location of this secluded villa could be counted on one hand.
Partners from the Astral Express? Did they find their way here because of Ruan Mei? But Ruan Mei's activities here should have been extremely secretive.
A trace of wariness rose in my heart, but it was overshadowed by uncontrollable curiosity.
I stood up, took a deep breath, and tried to calm my erratic heartbeat.
My footsteps echoed on the smooth floor as I crossed the somewhat empty living room and headed toward the heavy courtyard gate.
Every step was accompanied by questions in my heart: What kind of scene would I see outside the door? Who would it be that broke this brief, unsettling tranquility?
I pulled open the heavy courtyard gate. The hinges gave a slight "creak," shattering the surrounding silence.
The figure standing outside the door made my breathing stop instantly, and my heart felt as if it were about to leap out of my throat.
It wasn't Ruan Mei, and it wasn't Herta.
Instead, it was someone I was by no means a stranger to—in fact, one of the "guides" who had kickstarted this wonderful journey of mine.
A neat, purple, short ponytail swayed gently as she tilted her head slightly.
She had the same deep, purple eyes, but unlike Herta's inquisitive and sharp gaze, hers carried an indescribable charm and composure, as if she could see through the deepest secrets of the human heart.
She was dressed in well-tailored, urban-style clothing that outlined the voluptuous curves characteristic of a mature woman, exuding the aura of a dangerous yet fascinating city dweller.
Stellaron Hunter—Kafka!
How did she find this place? What was she here for? Countless question marks instantly filled my brain.
Kafka watched my stunned expression, a shallow, knowing smile curling at the corners of her lips. Her smile seemed to carry magic, capable of easily lowering one's defenses.
She seemed to see through my shock and confusion completely, just as she always seemed to know how to easily pluck at my heartstrings.
"Hmm? It seems my sudden visit really caught you by surprise." Her voice was soft, carrying a unique, magnetic quality—like a whisper, or perhaps a melody. "Well? Won't you invite me in to sit? It's a bit chilly outside."
Her tone was so natural, as if we were merely old friends who had bumped into each other on a street corner and decided to grab a coffee.
But I knew Kafka never did anything without a purpose.
Every appearance of hers seemed to be related to some sort of "script."
I subconsciously stepped aside, clearing the way.
"...Please, come in." My voice sounded somewhat dry.
Kafka walked in with an elegant gait, the sound of her high heels clicking crisply against the stone path.
She didn't head straight for the main villa but instead looked around the secluded courtyard with interest, her gaze sweeping over the koi swimming lazily in the pond, passing over the meticulously pruned plants, and finally landing on the building itself.
I closed the courtyard gate and followed behind her, feeling my nerves tighten.