Chapter 425: Determining the Personnel
Hu Tao practically vibrated with eager anticipation. Her plum-blossom pupils swept over the lively, bustling crowd filling the room, though her mind had long since skipped across the boundaries of worlds, flying straight back to Liyue Harbor. In her mind's eye, she pictured Daiyuan, currently locked in a quiet game of chess with Zhongli beneath the shade of a glazed sand tree.
Daiyuan, the mighty entity formerly known as Azhdaha, the great Dragon King, was now just a guy 'working' alongside her at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. He had adopted a new name and a completely new human guise to blend in with the mortal world. Strictly speaking, her invitation spot for this miraculous Chat Group had been voluntarily handed over by him.
Hu Tao never said it out loud—such mushy sentiments weren't her style—but she kept that favor securely tucked away in her heart. She had been racking her brain for a chance to repay the grumpy old dragon, and wasn't the perfect opportunity sitting right in front of her?
Bringing Daiyuan to this magical, chaotic place to play? Letting him witness the Hollows of another universe, and maybe even letting him spar with the eccentric friends gathered here?
The sheer comedic potential of the ancient Dragon King being squeezed into a round, squishy 'Bangboo'form, clumsily waddling his way through a banquet or a high-stakes battle... Hu Tao couldn't help but let out a sharp, mischievous giggle. It was an exceptionally fitting image.'Hmm... I definitely have to set this up for him first!' she decided, her mind already racing. She began mentally tallying her stash of Gear Coins, tapping her chin as she considered whether she should strong-arm her consultant, Zhongli, or the perpetually broke Venti into pooling their funds together.
In a relatively quiet corner of the plush sofa, Welt pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. The gaze behind those lenses was deep and heavy, piercing straight through the vibrant banquet unfolding before him. His vision cast toward a far more distant shore, a place almost entirely sealed within the deepest recesses of his memory.
His long fingers unconsciously traced the warm ceramic rim of his teacup.
Friends. Friends from his hometown. That single word carried a crushing weight for him, a burden far beyond what any ordinary person could possibly imagine.
It was a world he had once sworn his life to protect, yet had unintentionally drifted away from. Back there, across the vast cosmic divide, were the comrades-in-arms who had fought tooth and nail alongside him against the Honkai. There were the students he had carefully guided, and the family and colleagues to whom he felt he had failed to fulfill his ultimate responsibilities.
His connection with them had been cleanly severed by the unfathomable distances of the Imaginary Tree and the Sea of Quanta. There were countless nights when he genuinely believed he might never return to that land, never see those familiar, cherished faces again.
However, the very existence of this miraculous Chat Group shattered all known conventions.
Now, it dangled a seemingly impossible, agonizingly hopeful possibility right in front of him: the ability to invite 'friends.'
If the system's judgment was broad enough... if those vivid faces etched into his soul, those unbreakable bonds forged through blood and sacrifice could be acknowledged by the group's mechanics... did he truly have a chance to see them again?
Even if it was only in a restricted, temporary form, the mere thought made his heart pound against his ribs. Once the idea took root, he simply could not let it go.
Ten Feral Ghost Hearts. Thirty Skeletal Remains Hearts. The required materials for such an invitation were staggeringly distant, but the goal itself was crystal clear.
As long as he dove deeper into the Hollows and accumulated those precious drops... Welt's breathing involuntarily quickened. A long-lost sharpness, a burning desire belonging to a true warrior and a pioneer, reignited deep within his steady amber eyes.
Just then, a frantic burst of footsteps and the sharp whistling of wind tore through the corridor. The approaching commotion, accompanied by a series of desperate shouts, rudely shattered the room's contemplative atmosphere and instantly yanked everyone's attention toward the doorway.
"Himeko—! Uncle Yang—! We're back—!"
Stelle practically exploded into the room from the corridor entrance. Her face was flushed with exertion and manic excitement. Trailing right behind her—or rather, being forcefully dragged by one arm with her feet barely scraping the floor—was March, wearing an expression of absolute, unadulterated despair.
"Stelle! Slow down!" March wailed futilely, her heels skidding across the floorboards. "My arm is going to pop out of its socket! We aren't charging into a warzone!"
Her pink hair and pastel skirt fluttered wildly in the artificial breeze, making her look exactly like a helpless human kite caught in a hurricane.
This dramatic, chaotic entrance left the local residents of New Eridu blinking in a mixture of deep confusion and sheer amusement. What kind of world-shattering 'good news' could possibly make this tall, gray-haired Trailblazer from another universe so relentlessly energetic?
Stelle, naturally, did not care in the slightest about the bewildered stares. Her goal was locked in.
She slammed on the brakes right in front of Welt and Himeko, abruptly releasing her grip. March stumbled, immediately cradling her abused arm and glaring daggers at her companion.
Stelle leaned forward, words spilling out of her mouth at lightning speed. "Himeko! Uncle Yang! Amazing news! March and I just crunched the numbers! If we pool her Gear Coins and Dan Heng's together, we have exactly enough to buy one invitation!"
Her golden eyes sparkled like supernovas as she looked between the two senior Express members. "What about you guys? Do you have enough coins to pool together for a second one? Let's do it as the whole Astral Express Crew and buy two! One for Pom-Pom and one for Sunday! How about it? Huh? How about it?"
She threw her hands up in a wide, theatrical gesture. "That way, the Astral Express Crew will be complete! We can have an official internal team-building event right here in this universe!"
It had to be said, Stelle's chaotic proposal struck with pinpoint accuracy at the absolute softest part of Himeko's heart.
Pom-Pom. The dedicated Conductor who forever guarded the Astral Express, bound to the train and unable to easily leave its confines.
How many times had they returned from grueling, wondrous Trailblaze journeys, only able to share the stunning scenery and thrilling adventures through scattered words and digital photographs? Pom-Pom always listened with immense enthusiasm, but Himeko was far too observant to miss the quiet longing that occasionally flickered in those large, expressive eyes. The Conductor wanted to be part of the journey, not just the destination.
If they could truly allow Pom-Pom to slip the shackles of the Express, even temporarily... Even if it meant arriving in this world stuffed into a squishy, restricted Bangboo chassis, just to experience a real adventure and join a lively gathering with the crew...
It would be the most incredible, unexpected gift. A fitting reward for the Conductor's years of silent, unwavering dedication.
Without a single second of hesitation, Himeko offered Stelle a warm, radiant smile and nodded. "That is a wonderful idea, Stelle. Pom-Pom will be absolutely thrilled."
She immediately turned her elegant gaze toward the man beside her. "Welt, what do you think? We should still have a decent surplus of Gear Coins on our end."
Welt was abruptly pulled back from the heavy, melancholic thoughts of his distant hometown.
Stelle's sudden proposal had completely derailed his careful, long-term resource planning. Yet, as he looked at the bright, expectant faces of Stelle and March, and saw the deep, familial care shining in Himeko's eyes, the scales in his heart tipped in an instant.
Reaching the friends from his hometown required extensive, long-term planning and a grueling accumulation of rare Hollow resources. But the companions standing right in front of him—the found family of the Astral Express Crew—their happiness and reunion represented a warmth that was entirely within reach. It was something that could, and should, be realized today.
He carefully took that deeply buried homesickness, folded it neatly, and tucked it away in the back of his mind. Reason and warmth regained control.
"That works perfectly." Welt pushed his glasses up once more, his usual calm and measured composure settling back over his features. "Combining my Gear Coins with Himeko's, we will have no problem covering the cost of a second invitation. Pom-Pom and Sunday are indeed the perfect candidates to bring over."
His analytical mind quickly re-evaluated the resource allocation. The grand, long-term plans could wait. Satisfying the immediate, heartfelt wishes of his team took absolute priority.
"Yes!" Stelle pumped her fist into the air, practically vibrating with victory.
For the next few minutes, Stelle and March transformed into a pair of frantic, makeshift accountants. They huddled together, rapidly calculating the exact total of Gear Coins currently held by the four present members of the Astral Express.
The locals of New Eridu watched this bizarre spectacle with mild curiosity. While they didn't fully grasp the specific mechanics of the 'event invitations' these outworlders were discussing, it was glaringly obvious that these eccentric guests were crowd-funding something incredibly exciting.
Finally, Stelle snapped her head up, her face split into an irrepressible, ecstatic grin. "It's enough! It's exactly enough! The funds for two invitations are secured! Let's go, let's go! March, back to the store!"
Without waiting for a response, she lunged forward and grabbed March, who had only just managed to catch her breath.
"Huh?! We're going back right now?!" March wailed, her eyes widening in horror. "Can't you just go by yourself?!"
"Absolutely not! You are a major financial contributor, which means you need to experience the sense of ritual!" Stelle declared with absolute, righteous authority, already dragging the struggling archer toward the door. "Plus, you have to push the confirmation button yourself!"
"Slow down! My shoe! It's slipping off!"
March's desperate protests echoed down the corridor, quickly fading away as the two figures vanished into the distance, leaving a trail of chaotic energy in their wake.
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