March's grip tightened around his hand as they stepped away from the Space Anchor, her earlier annoyance melting into something far more focused now that she had a clearer understanding of the situation. The usual lightness in her expression dimmed slightly, replaced by a seriousness that, while rare, was not unfamiliar when things truly mattered.
"So… you need my help? Just in case?"
Sunny glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his expression neutral but not dismissive, which in itself was an answer.
"Pretty much. Well, if you have anything better to do, then I'll just figure something out."
March immediately shook her head, her hair swaying with the motion as she frowned.
"Nope, I'm free. And even if I wasn't, I'd be pretty annoyed if something bad happened after all the trouble we went through."
Sunny let out a short, amused snort, his lips curling faintly.
"Of course your unemployed ass is free."
March stopped mid-step, her eyes widening as she turned to stare at him in disbelief.
"What, and you have a job?"
Sunny shrugged, entirely unbothered by the accusation as he continued walking, forcing her to keep up.
"I'm a self-employed entrepreneur. Isn't the whole selling point of being an Awakened the money? It opens up like half of the economy."
March blinked, her brows knitting together as confusion replaced her indignation.
"…Since when?"
Her thoughts immediately drifted toward Dan Heng, and she could already imagine the kind of response he would give if she asked him the same question. Something vague, philosophical, and completely unhelpful.
'Money is just an object.'
Yeah, that sounded exactly like him. Performative as heck. Almost as performative as when Sunny felt the need to act smart, but Dan Heng was consistent at it.
March's lips pressed into a thin line as she huffed quietly to herself. That kind of thinking was fine in theory, but in practice, money meant cute clothes, accessories, and everything else that made life enjoyable. The Astral Express had already sold most of the belongings left behind by previous passengers just to get her and Dan Heng Transcendent garments, and even those were only a step above Ascended armor.
Her gaze flickered downward briefly, landing on the small dragon scale charm that hung from the strap of her dress, swaying gently with her movement.
At least she got something out of her struggles.
The memory of diving straight into Sevirax's mouth, only to get blasted by dragonfire, made her wince internally. The fact that she had survived that at all still felt ridiculous in hindsight.
Still, a Saint was a Saint.
And a charm Memory was a charm Memory.
By the time they reached the Space Anchor, March had mostly recovered from her thoughts, her expression returning to its usual mix of curiosity and mild exasperation. Without much ceremony, the two of them activated the Anchor, the familiar sensation of space folding around them overtaking their senses.
A moment later, they stepped into the Parlor Car of the Astral Express.
The atmosphere was calm, almost deceptively so, as though the chaos they had just left behind belonged to an entirely different world. At the center of the room, Himeko and Mr. Yang sat across from each other, a chessboard placed neatly between them as they engaged in a quiet match.
Himeko glanced up first, her expression warming immediately upon noticing their arrival.
"Welcome back. Care to join us for a game after this?"
March didn't even hesitate.
"Nope. I like winning."
Sunny, on the other hand, didn't answer immediately.
Instead, his gaze settled on the chessboard, his expression shifting into something vaguely critical as he stepped closer, observing the current state of the match. His silence stretched just long enough to draw attention before he finally spoke.
"Chess is fundamentally flawed."
Mr. Yang paused mid-move, one brow lifting slightly as he regarded Sunny with mild curiosity.
"Oh?"
Sunny crossed his arms, his tone adopting an almost lecturing cadence.
"It doesn't accurately simulate war. The conditions are too controlled, the variables too limited, and the absence of true uncertainty makes it a poor representation of actual strategy. Anyone who believes mastering this game translates to commanding an army is a fool."
March blinked.
Himeko smiled.
Mr. Yang looked amused.
Sunny continued regardless.
"That being said, it's an amusing pastime."
He stepped back slightly, already losing interest.
"I'll pass. It'd be too easy."
There was a brief pause.
Then Himeko's smile sharpened just a fraction.
"Is that so?"
Sunny didn't even try to hide his indifference.
"Yes."
Mr. Yang exhaled quietly, returning his attention to the board, only for Himeko to make her move moments later. The match ended shortly after, her victory clean and decisive.
He sighed.
She leaned back slightly, her gaze shifting back to Sunny.
"Well, now I'm curious."
There was something unmistakably challenging in her tone.
Sunny met her gaze, then shrugged.
"Fine."
The game began.
It ended quickly.
Far more quickly than anyone had expected.
Sunny's movements were efficient, precise, and utterly devoid of hesitation. Each decision flowed into the next with a level of certainty that left no room for error, his strategy unfolding with an almost mechanical inevitability.
Himeko didn't stand a chance.
Not a single piece of his was lost.
When it was over, she stared at the board for a moment longer than necessary, her expression shifting into one of genuine astonishment.
Sunny stood.
"Told you."
For once, there was no arrogance in his tone this time.
Just fact.
[The War] had rewired him in ways that extended far beyond simple combat, embedding within him an instinctive understanding of strategy and tactics that bordered on absolute. In any system governed purely by rules, with no element of chance, he would always win.
Unless his opponent had their own hacks... or were just so good that they can override a Divine Lineage.
Which, unfortunately, Qingque did.
Sunny frowned slightly at the thought, recalling the absurd difficulty of playing Celestial Jade against her. Probability bent around her in ways that defied logic, turning what should have been predictable into chaos.
It was… annoying.
He shook the thought away, turning back to Himeko.
"By the way, you're fine, right?"
She blinked.
He gestured vaguely.
"The Stellaron Hunters. That illusion they used to split the Express. You didn't notice anything off?"
Himeko's expression softened, a hint of appreciation flickering in her eyes.
"Thank you for asking, but I'm alright. There's nothing to worry about."
Sunny studied her for a moment, then nodded.
"Cool."
Without another word, he turned, grabbing March's hand again before she could react.
"Come on. I need your help with something else."
"Hey—!"
She barely had time to protest before he was already dragging her down the corridor.
Eventually, they reached her room.
Sunny stepped inside without hesitation, glancing around briefly before turning back to her.
"I need women's clothing."
March froze.
Her mind stalled.
Then immediately went in the worst possible direction.
"…Excuse me?"
Sunny didn't elaborate.
"Don't ask."
That made it worse.
Much worse.
March stared at him, her expression slowly shifting into one of deep concern. Was he a crossdresser?
"…Sunny."
He didn't respond.
"…Sunny, why do you need—"
"Don't ask."
She pressed her lips together, clearly struggling between curiosity and self-preservation.
"…I'm asking."
Sunny's gaze flattened.
"Don't."
March inhaled sharply, then exhaled just as quickly, throwing her hands up in surrender.
"Fine! Fine, I won't ask!"
She turned toward her closet, muttering under her breath as she pulled it open.
"I'm only giving you stuff I don't wear anymore."
Sunny glanced at the contents.
Everything was blue, white, or pink.
"…Do you own any other colors?"
March shot him a look.
"What's wrong with my color scheme?"
"...Well, not enough black, for one."
Noctis would have his head if he heard those words.
He began sifting through the clothes, occasionally pausing to hold something up before discarding it just as quickly. Throughout the process, he communicated silently with Tingyun, offering her various options.
Each time, her response was immediate.
[No.]
[Absolutely not.]
[Benefactor, I have standards.]
Eventually, she elaborated.
[These lack elegance. And refinement. Also, why is everything so… pastel?]
Sunny exhaled quietly.
'That's what I was saying...'
After a few more minutes, he stepped back, shaking his head.
"Never mind. Keep your clothes. I'm going shopping."
March blinked.
"…Shopping?"
He nodded.
"In the Luofu."
She didn't hesitate.
"I'm coming."
Sunny gave her a flat look.
"…Why?"
She grinned.
"I want Xianzhou-style clothes."
He stared at her for a moment.
"…You're not about to become an actual cultivator, are you?"
March made a face.
"That sounds racist. Actually… aren't we kind of already cultivators?"
Sunny opened his mouth to deny it, then paused.
His expression shifted.
"…Wait."
March tilted her head.
"…What?"
Sunny frowned.
"Was this actually a cultivation novel disguised as a system novel disguised as a sci-fi? With a little dark fantasy?"
March shivered.
"The four horsemen of edginess."
Neither of them elaborated further.
Instead, they returned to the Space Anchor.
Moments later, the world shifted again.
They appeared within the Exalting Sanctum of the Luofu.
The moment Sunny's shadow sense spread outward, mapping the area with instinctive precision, his expression changed.
'...What the hell are those two doing?'