"Could something have gone wrong 'outside'?"
Vill-V rubbed her chin, a probing light flickering in her eyes. "Could someone have bypassed the Paradise's defense mechanism and specifically taken Elysia?"
Although Kalpas still leaned silently against the wall, the gaze beneath his mask swept over everyone present like tangible flames, his suppressed fury seemingly ready to ignite the air at any moment.
The atmosphere in the main hall instantly dropped to freezing point.
Watching the Flame-Chasers on the screen sink into solemnity and suspicion due to Elysia's disappearance, Black Herta's lips curled slightly, forming an arc that suggested everything was under control.
"The plan is effective."
She muttered softly with a hint of satisfaction, "And sure enough... they didn't let Griseo attend the meeting."
A calculating light flashed in her purple-black eyes, which lacked highlights. "This oversight, done out of 'protection,' is exactly the opportunity I needed."
She didn't linger. As she raised her hand, a gate of light, its edges flowing with purple-red data streams, quietly opened beside her.
Black Herta stepped inside, and her figure instantly vanished from the Paradise facility.
The next moment, she appeared in a completely different space.
Unlike the solemn Paradise Hall, this was a... studio, filled with childish fun and dreamy colors.
Countless canvases covered almost all the walls, depicting starscapes, flowers, strange creatures, and some indescribable yet vibrant blocks of color and lines, all rendered with bold and pure hues.
The air was filled with the faint scent of paint.
In the center of the studio, a petite figure sat with her back to Black Herta, holding a paintbrush seriously and applying color to a blank canvas set up on a small easel.
She had beautiful blue hair, and was so quiet she seemed like a part of the painting itself.
It was Griseo.
Black Herta silently walked up behind her, not disturbing her immediately.
However, Griseo seemed to possess an acute perception that defied logic. Her paintbrush paused slightly, and she slowly turned her head to look at the unwelcome guest behind her.
In her pure, azure eyes, there was no panic or wariness, only the curiosity of someone observing a new color.
She quietly stared at Black Herta, as if trying to identify who this sudden "grown-up friend" with the strange aura was.
Kosma walked alone through the Paradise corridor; his taciturn nature made him unaccustomed to attending crowded and noisy meetings.
Although he could feel that the atmosphere in the Paradise seemed strange, with an invisible tension pervading the data-laden air, he didn't dwell on it.
(Just do what you ought to do.)
He silently affirmed this, deciding to follow his usual routine and go check on Griseo.
That quietly drawing child always brought him a sense of peace.
He arrived at the entrance to Griseo's studio, habitually not knocking, and gently pushed the door open.
"Griseo, I have arrived..."
His words abruptly stopped.
The studio was empty.
Only unfinished paintings covered the walls, and the solitary easel stood in the center.
The paint on the palette hadn't dried yet, as if the owner had only stepped away for a moment.
Kosma immediately frowned.
His gaze swept the floor, and then froze.
A paintbrush had fallen onto the floor beside the easel.
The handle of that paintbrush was wrapped with the blue thread Griseo had personally tied—her favorite paintbrush, which she never let go of.
(Just stepped away? Went somewhere else?)
A sliver of hope rose in Kosma's heart, but he still quickly stepped forward, crouched down, and carefully picked up the paintbrush.
The handle still retained the warmth of Griseo's fingertips.
He looked around again. The studio was terrifyingly quiet; besides his own breathing and heartbeat, there was no other sound.
There was no sign of Griseo, nor the soft tunes she occasionally hummed while painting.
A cold chill instantly shot up his spine to the top of his head.
(This is serious trouble.)
Kosma tightly gripped the lost paintbrush, and for the first time, clear anxiety appeared on his usually calm and unruffled face.
Astral Express · Outside the Party Car
Danheng was still lurking outside the Party Car door, peering through the slight gap, intently watching the movements inside, trying to decipher more information from their vague lip movements and expressions.
Just then, a cold hand suddenly slapped him on the shoulder!
Danheng jumped, nearly counterattacking out of instinct!
He whipped his head around, his heart still pounding.
He saw Xing standing behind him, having appeared unnoticed.
However, Danheng, upon seeing Xing's current appearance, was startled again.
Xing's face was as pale as if she'd just been pulled out of a flour sack, with heavy, ink-like dark circles under her eyes. She exuded an aura of exhaustion, as if her soul was about to ascend, looking close to death from overwork.
"Xing... are you okay?"
Danheng couldn't help but lower his voice, asking with a hint of disbelief and concern.
Xing weakly waved her hand, responding in a hoarse but equally low voice, "I-It's nothing..."
She leaned closer to Danheng, speaking mysteriously while giving a thumbs-up, though the thumb was visibly trembling: "You know what... Herta... is really amazing..."
Danheng: "...?"
(What is this all about now?)
Xing continued in a tone that sounded like she had seen through the vanity of the world: "Recently... Herta installed some kind of... Time Expansion Plug-in... into the simulated universe... It's seriously powerful... Hey, guess what?"
Danheng was led along by her rambling words and subconsciously replied, "...What?"
"One System Hour... immediately becomes... ten System Hours!"
A strange light seemed to flicker in Xing's eyes, making her look particularly bizarre alongside her pale face and dark circles. "Isn't that... amazing? Hehe..."
She spoke while letting out intermittent low chuckles: "You know what... I was working myself to death... fighting tooth and nail in there... I thought... time was up... and I could rest... But guess what! Only one-tenth of the time had passed! Hehe... Hahahaha..."
The more she thought about it, the more "amusing" it seemed, and her laughter gradually threatened to escape her control.
Danheng looked at her increasingly bizarre mental state and quickly made a shushing gesture: "Keep your voice down!"
Xing seemed to snap back to reality, blinking her vacant eyes. She looked at the tightly shut carriage door, then at Danheng, who was clearly "staking out" the place, and asked confusedly, "Danheng... what... are you doing?"
Danheng frowned slightly, assessing Xing's appearance and weighing his options.
Although Xing's condition was strange, she was a trustworthy companion, and sometimes her unconventional thinking allowed her to notice overlooked details.
He hesitated for a moment, then stepped aside, signaling Xing to look through the door crack.
Xing leaned in curiously, squinted for a long time, then pulled back, looking at Danheng with a serious expression.
Danheng asked in a low voice, "What... do you make of it?"
He thought Xing would offer some opinion about the mysterious woman or March 7th's abnormality.
However, Xing did not answer his question.
She first looked silently at Danheng, then, as if confirming something, she turned her head left and right, looked down the corridor, and even stood on her toes to check the ceiling corners.
Danheng was baffled by her inexplicable actions and asked, confused, "...What's wrong? What are you looking for?"
Xing looked at Danheng with a serious expression, her tone carrying the gravity of someone who had discovered a major secret, and she spoke word by word:
"I... am looking for a second Danheng."
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