Inside the carriage that had been "borrowed" from the Astral Express.
Madam Herta sat elegantly on the sofa, her purplish-black eyes gazing at the sea of stars outside the Observation Car window, her fingertips lightly tapping the armrest, seemingly waiting for something. The system puppet stood silently beside her like the most loyal shadow.
(Internal Monologue: Since I'm already here, and staying right next door... wouldn't it be a waste to enter a treasure mountain and return empty-handed if I don't go see the "genuine" Astral Express Crew?)
Once this thought arose, it scratched at her heart like a cat's claw.
Of course, on the surface, she found a more "justifiable" reason for herself—this was a practical test of her "Data Acquisition" ability.
She seriously (in her own opinion) nodded and decided to put her plan into action.
The wait was short. Monitoring the main Astral Express's life signs via the system confirmed that most of the Astral Express Crew members had entered a resting state, and the carriage lights had been dimmed.
The time had come.
"Is it this door?" Black Herta stood up and walked to the door at the end of the carriage—the one that connected to the Astral Express and looked unremarkable.
The system puppet nodded slightly: "Yes, Madam. Permissions have been overridden; it can be opened normally."
Black Herta reached out and gently pulled the doorknob—the door slid open silently.
Behind the door was a short, quiet corridor, flanked by huge Observation Car windows reflecting the deep starry sky and the faint glow of distant nebulae.
Soft carpeting covered the floor, absorbing all footsteps.
Black Herta gently closed the door behind her, sealing off the warmth of her own carriage.
She moved forward slowly, like a phantom trespassing into another's domain, filled with curiosity and scrutiny.
At the end of the corridor was another door, which she pushed open again.
The scene opened up before her; it was the familiar Party Car.
Although it was "late night," the carriage was still lit by a soft, reassuring warm yellow light, illuminating the empty sofa area and bar.
A lingering trace of cheerfulness seemed to remain in the air.
Black Herta looked around with interest, letting out a soft "tsk tsk."
(Internal Monologue: So this is where the protagonists usually hang out... It's... warmer than I imagined.)
She walked down a small flight of stairs, her gaze inadvertently sweeping to the right—that was Conductor Pom-Pom's exclusive little space.
Several extremely miniature outfits tailored for Pom-Pom were neatly hung on a rack, and beside them, there was even a tiny Conductor's hat.
The system puppet followed her gaze and suggested in its flat, electronic voice: "Madam, would you like to collect the data models of these garments? Or... perhaps take them directly as samples?" (In human terms: Steal them all.)
Black Herta instinctively waved her hand, her movement betraying a subtle stiffness.
(Internal Monologue: Yes! Of course, I want them! These are Pom-Pom's original... no, original outfits! What wonderful collectibles!)
But reason quickly prevailed.
"There's no need."
She refused in a calm tone, forcing her eyes away from the ridiculously cute little outfits.
(Internal Monologue: Never mind... If Pom-Pom found its clothes missing, it would probably throw a fit... The risk is too high; it's not worth the trouble.)
They passed through the Party Car and arrived at the bar area.
The mixology robot known as "shut up" was quietly in standby mode.
As Black Herta and the system passed by, purplish-black energy patterns, homologous to the system's own, quietly appeared on the surface of its cylindrical body. Its internal indicator lights flickered a few times, and it spoke in a voice that blended electronic tones with respectful politeness:
"I offer you my nightly greetings, esteemed Madam Herta. May the stars illuminate your... uh, data pathways?"
It seemed to be trying to imitate a human blessing, but its programming library was clearly better suited for other things. "On a side note, do you know why the Interstellar Peace Corporation never gives out year-end bonuses?"
It paused, then answered its own question: "Because the company's financial report shows:'Star Jade (poor), and credits are even poorer!' Haha... *zzzt*..."
Black Herta: "..."
What does that mean?
Black Herta's mouth twitched uncontrollably. She decided to completely ignore this robot, whose cold joke skill had been maxed out after being "contaminated" by the system, and walked straight past it.
Just as she was about to enter the Observation Car, Black Herta stopped.
Through the glass on the door, she could see the lights were on inside, and a small figure with long ears was meticulously sweeping the floor with a small broom not much shorter than itself—it was Pom-Pom!
It wasn't asleep yet!
Black Herta silently turned her head and looked at the system puppet behind her.
The system puppet's purplish-red inverted cross eyes calmly looked back at her.
The mistress and servant exchanged a silent glance.
(Black Herta's look: Is there a way?)
(System's look: Please leave it to me, Madam.)
[Brief perspective shift: Inside the Observation Car]
Pom-Pom diligently swept, its long ears swaying gently with its movements, while softly humming an out-of-tune Astral Express marching song.
"Must keep the Astral Express tidy, Pom~ Everyone will be happy when they wake up tomorrow and see a sparkling clean carriage, Pom~"
Suddenly, its sharp, long ears caught a faint movement coming from the direction of the Party Car.
"Hm?" Pom-Pom stopped sweeping, tilted its head curiously, gripping the small broom, and walked on its short legs toward the door leading to the Party Car.
"Did someone not close something properly, Pom?"
Perspective shift.
Black Herta and the system had already reached the passenger car corridor.
It was even quieter here, with only the steady hum of the Astral Express.
Black Herta slowed her pace, like a cat surveying its territory, her gaze sweeping over the tightly shut cabin doors.
Her perception extended cautiously like microscopic antennae, gathering the data signatures of the Astral Express Crew members in the air—this was one of the "experimental" goals of her trip.
Just as she passed a slightly secluded corner of the corridor, her attention was drawn by something strange.
A figure was curled up in the corner, thoroughly covered by a massive cardboard box that looked like it was used for large equipment, with only a few strands of familiar gray hair peeking out from the edge of the box.
Black Herta: "..."
Her mouth twitched uncontrollably once again.
(Internal Monologue: Seriously... why is she sleeping in the corridor? And in... a cardboard box? Isn't this Stelle's treatment a bit too 'hardcore'?)
She couldn't help but step closer, examining the figure carefully under the faint light filtering from the Observation Car.
Yes, it was Xing. Her breathing was steady; she seemed to be sleeping soundly.
(Internal Monologue: So the rumors are true? She really sleeps in a cardboard box right after getting on the Astral Express? Isn't that a bit too... thrifty?)
Black Herta found it somewhat unbelievable.
She didn't know that this was Xing, influenced by Kevin's quotes, who had resolutely refused March 7th and Himeko's invitations to share a room in order to "temper" herself. She insisted on choosing the "sky as a blanket, the ground as a mat" (Astral Express corridor edition), even declining bedding, and finally found this spot she considered the perfect "Feng Shui treasure ground."
Of course, this was actually a good thing for Black Herta.
The target was stationary, and the environment was relatively concealed—it was the perfect time for the "Data Collection" experiment.
She no longer hesitated, extending her hand, palm aimed at Xing beneath the cardboard box.
A faint yet precise force seeped out cautiously, like an invisible probe.
Gradually, tiny specks of golden-yellow light emerged from Xing's body, like attracted fireflies, slowly converging toward Black Herta's palm.
These light specks contained parts of Xing and... the heavy fragments of Remembrance she had recently experienced.
The collection process was proceeding smoothly and was nearing completion—
Suddenly!
Xing, under the cardboard box, suddenly opened her eyes!
In the dim light, she couldn't make out the intruder's face, only a blurry silhouette of a woman wearing a large hat standing before her.
But her instinct as a warrior (in her own mind) instantly jolted her awake, her muscles tensing as she instinctively tried to spring up—
However, just as her head lifted halfway, before fully escaping the cardboard box's cover, she heard an extremely faint, muffled "thunk."
It sounded like a small wooden mallet hitting a ripe watermelon.
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