As the saying goes, "When I ask a question, it's not because I'm confused, but because I think you're the one with the problem." That perfectly captured Newman's state of mind at that moment.
How could anyone install such a bizarre thing on a robot?
Newman recalled his interactions with Little Herta. So, that unreasonable little tyrant wasn't actually Herta Herself, but an AI robot equipped with this module?
He slapped on a face of anguish. "Why would such a strange module even exist?"
Herta replied, "Because it's fun, isn't it?"
"F-fun?" Newman was stunned. He'd imagined countless possible explanations, but never in his wildest dreams would he have guessed the real reason would be so... simple and direct?
It wasn't that "fun" couldn't be a valid motive, but in most cases, citing "fun" as the reason felt too flimsy, too hard to believe.
It was like someone bringing a bomb onto a plane. If you asked them why, and they replied, "Because it's fun!" who would believe that?
But then, Newman looked at the young girl before him and suddenly thought, Maybe this isn't so absurd after all? I'm no genius; how could I possibly understand her way of thinking?
Another question immediately followed: "Why do all these puppets look exactly like you?"
Herta answered readily, as if it were no secret at all. "They don't just look like me; I specifically modeled them after my childhood appearance. They're not as beautiful as I am now, of course, but they're undeniably adorable, right?"
Newman was speechless.
He glanced at the Little Hertas bustling around and then at Herta Herself lounging on the sofa. What she said was undeniably true. Without exaggeration, the Little Hertas were the cutest children Newman had ever seen, while Herta Herself was the most beautiful person he knew.
Even though Herta wasn't dressed up and was wearing casual clothes, it only enhanced her unique charm. But who boasts about their own appearance like this? Isn't she embarrassed?
As for comparing Herta's beauty to Elysia's, there was simply no basis for comparison—Newman had never even met Elysia.
Newman remained silent, prompting Herta to take the initiative. "Oh, since you're here, you might as well help me out."
"What kind of help?" Newman asked immediately, remembering that his primary mission was to fulfill every whim of this "Little Tyrant"—or, now that he thought about it, perhaps he should call her a "Middle Tyrant"? After all, Herta Herself looked quite young, probably in her early twenties.
"Help me test some equipment," Herta replied. This task would normally fall to Baldy Burke, but sending the equipment back and forth through the Chat Group was too inconvenient. With a free errand boy standing right in front of her, why not take advantage?
(Baldy Burke: You're welcome.)
Herta continued, "Now that you're a Senior Member of Parliament, securing a deserted area shouldn't be too difficult, right?"
"That's certainly no problem," Newman replied. Even when he was a Junior Councilor, such matters had been trivial. Within twenty minutes, he had leveraged his connections to locate an abandoned factory. He turned to Herta. "What kind of equipment is it? When do we leave?"
"Now." But it wasn't Herta Herself who spoke, but Herta No. 002, recently upgraded and assembled. The little Herta continued, "I'm too lazy to move myself, so I definitely won't be going with you. This puppet will accompany you instead. As for the 'equipment,' it's right here..."
Twenty minutes later, Newman and Little Herta arrived at the factory. Upon entering, they saw numerous dust-covered crates, evidence that the place had been abandoned for a long time—exactly what Herta had specified.
Then, Little Herta produced the so-called "equipment": a completely silver-white object resembling a toy gun.
Indeed, it looked nothing like a firearm, but rather like a prop from a science fiction movie.
Little Herta handed the device to Newman and explained, "There are red and green buttons next to the trigger. Press the red button to fire, then press the green button to aim at another target."
With that, Little Herta stepped back slightly, silently observing Newman and recording all the experimental data. No cumbersome testing equipment was needed; the Herta Puppet itself served as the perfect "detection device."
Newman stared at the toy-like device in his hand, momentarily speechless. He had assumed Herta's "testing equipment" would be used to assess the effects and performance of magical artifacts. After all, in his eyes, Herta was an undeniable magical genius.
"What exactly is this?" he finally asked, bewildered.
"A portal gun," Little Herta replied succinctly. "It creates interconnected portals."
Herta's ultimate goal was to study Dimensional Rifts, but due to the Prophet's prophecy, she had slowed down her research. Instead, she decided to focus on developing weapons first. After some deliberation, she resolved to begin with weapons related to space, reasoning that Dimensional Rifts were inherently spatial phenomena. Researching such weapons now could lay the groundwork for her future Rift studies.
When considering space-related weaponry, Herta couldn't help but recall a portal gun game from her previous life. Inspired, she acted on the idea immediately, and this contraption was born.
"A... a portal gun?!" Newman stammered, utterly dumbfounded. He scrutinized the object in his hand, but found no trace of magic—no Magic Power, no Magic Runes. "Is this... is this really just some cheap toy you picked up at a flea market?"
Despite his utter confusion, Newman ultimately obeyed Little Herta's command. He aimed at a nearby crate and pulled the trigger.
With a brief, humming pre-charge, an orange-red beam shot out. Newman clearly saw the crate distort and rapidly inflate like a balloon.
No, the crate wasn't inflating. Instead, the space around it was warping, revealing a faint elliptical outline.
In the blink of an eye, the distorted space vanished, and half the crate disappeared into thin air, leaving behind a perfectly curved cut.
Little Herta propped her chin on her hand, musing, "Hmm~ A failure? Did the portal collapse before it could fully form?"
A cold bead of sweat trickled down Newman's forehead. Though he didn't fully understand what had just happened, he knew one thing for sure: if that thing hit a person, it would undoubtedly kill them instantly!