Chapter 10: If the Price of Being Smart Is Losing Friends, Then I'd Rather Be an Idiot
"That's not a nebula. It's scale powder."
March 7th's hand froze in mid-air. Her fingertips hovered less than two centimeters away from the cold glass of the Parlor Car window. Outside, a captivating swirl of crimson and violet dust drifted through the cosmic void, glowing with an ethereal, almost beautiful light.
"Scale powder?" She blinked, slowly turning her head to look at him. "You mean... that gorgeous space cloud outside... came from a bug?"
"Not just any bug. A True Sting," Rekka corrected, his voice flat, analytical, and completely devoid of his usual chaotic energy. He adjusted his posture, his eyes tracking the shifting red dust. "Judging by the density and dispersion rate of the particles, this particular specimen is massive. It wouldn't have any problem swallowing the Astral Express in a single gulp."
March's cheerful expression shattered. She slowly pulled her hand back from the window and swallowed hard. "You... you're joking, right? Please tell me you're joking."
"Today, I walk the Path of Erudition," Rekka replied, his gaze calm and unnervingly sharp. "I don't do jokes."
He turned his attention away from the impending cosmic doom and looked down at the small, glowing creature resting on the table. The Little Blue Light—a remnant of his chaotic Path-shifting from the day before. Rekka scooped the tiny, luminescent insect into his palm.
"Alright, little guy. Time to earn your keep," Rekka murmured, tapping its carapace with a single finger. "Tell that overgrown dummy outside that this isn't a rest stop. Tell it to find somewhere else to cool off before I get annoyed."
The Little Blue Light let out a soft trill. It gently flapped its translucent wings, its azure glow pulsing in a rhythmic sequence. Lifting off from Rekka's palm, it zipped across the Parlor Car and hovered right in front of the reinforced glass. Pressing its tiny body against the transparent barrier, it began to vibrate its wings at a hyper-accelerated frequency.
Bzzzzzz—
An invisible, high-frequency ripple shot out through the vacuum of space.
Outside the window, the massive cloud of ominous red scale powder suddenly froze. The swirling vortex of cosmic dust shuddered, then rapidly began to retreat, dispersing into the dark void as if fleeing in absolute terror.
Just like that, an apocalyptic Swarm disaster was casually averted. And the only two people on the train who even knew it happened were Rekka and March 7th.
"Good job, Bruce," Rekka praised, offering the returning bug a nod of approval.
March stared at him, her brain struggling to process the whiplash. "...Bruce?"
"That's right." Rekka pushed his imaginary glasses up his nose. "In ancient Earth culture, naming a loyal canine companion Bruce is considered one of the highest honors."
'Go for it, Bruce. You can do it.' Rekka mentally pictured a vintage meme of two men and a dog in a sidecar motorcycle, highly amused by his own internal joke.
March rubbed her temples, trying to reboot her thoughts. "But seriously... that thing just now. The giant planet-eating bug outside. Was it really scared away by this tiny little glowing speck?"
"In the biological hierarchy of the Path of Propagation, status dictates absolute obedience," Rekka explained, his tone slipping back into a dry, academic lecture. "Although I've temporarily locked its Path, Bruce is essentially an Emanator of Propagation that I accidentally created yesterday. Its pheromones carry the highest-level command override. To an ordinary True Sting, Bruce is basically a god."
March fell silent. She stared at the tiny blue bug, then looked back at Rekka, her expression a mix of awe and sheer exasperation.
"So..." she started slowly. "When you turned into a giant bug yesterday... you could do this kind of stuff too?"
"In theory, yes. Though my methods would have been far less elegant."
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.
The heavy, tense atmosphere was instantly shattered by the sound of tiny footsteps. Pom-Pom came waddling into the Parlor Car, their long ears bouncing with every step. The conductor was struggling to carry a massive, incredibly fluffy white cushion that was almost as big as they were.
"Passenger Rekka! Passenger March 7th!" Pom-Pom called out cheerfully. "What do you think of this cushion, pom? It's Pom-Pom's absolute favorite style!"
The conductor paused, tilting their furry head toward the glass. "Huh? Just now, Pom-Pom thought the light outside the window looked a little red. Was there something out there, pom?"
Rekka and March locked eyes. A silent, instantaneous agreement passed between them.
'Do not tell the fluffy conductor that a cosmic horror bug larger than the Astral Express just tried to eat us for a mid-afternoon snack.'
"Conductor, you must be seeing things," Rekka said smoothly, not missing a beat. "Hasn't the cosmos always looked like this?"
"Is that so, pom?" Pom-Pom scratched their cheek, easily convinced. "Maybe Pom-Pom really just needs some rest."
Instantly forgetting the impending doom, the conductor excitedly hoisted the white cushion higher. "Look! This fabric is super soft! The Little Blue Light will definitely love sleeping on it, pom!"
With practiced care, Pom-Pom arranged the plush bed in a cozy corner of the Parlor Car, patting it down until it was perfectly flat. Bruce immediately fluttered over and sank into the fabric, emitting a happy little buzz.
"Alright! Now that our new friend is settled, Pom-Pom is going to go check the pressure valves in the Engine Room, pom!" With a sharp salute, the conductor spun around and waddled off down the corridor.
As soon as the door hissed shut behind Pom-Pom, March let out a long breath and slumped against the nearest chair.
"Okay, real talk," she muttered, crossing her arms. "If that thing had actually charged at us... would the train even be salvageable?"
"If that had happened, the structural integrity of the Astral Express would be the least of our concerns," Rekka replied coolly, taking a seat opposite her. "We would be far too busy figuring out how to survive the digestive acids inside a True Sting's stomach."
March shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself.
"But you don't need to worry," Rekka added, his tone softening just a fraction. "Despite their massive size, those giant True Stings are actually at the very bottom of the Swarm's hierarchy. It was likely just a stray scout, drawn here by the residual pheromones from my transformation yesterday."
March chewed on her lower lip, her bright eyes studying him carefully. The usual chaotic, unpredictable Rekka was gone, replaced by this calm, hyper-analytical scholar who spoke in paragraphs and calculated odds.
"Honestly..." she began, her voice tinged with a strange, conflicted hesitation. "You really have become exceptionally smart today."
Rekka simply tilted his head, waiting for her to finish.
March looked down at her boots. "But... with your brain working like a supercomputer right now... do you look at me and think I'm just... particularly stupid?"
Rekka's analytical gaze softened. The cold, calculating aura of Erudition pulled back, revealing the genuine warmth underneath.
"Intelligence is merely one metric of a person's value, March. It isn't the only one, and it certainly isn't the most important," he said quietly. "Look at yesterday. My brain was barely functioning, yet no one on this train looked down on me. You even went out of your way to bring me food when I was stuck."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "If the price of being a genius is losing the people who care about me, then I'd rather be a complete idiot. Being smart is never a curse. Arrogance is."
March blinked. Her vibrant pink-and-blue eyes widened as she stared at him, trying to process the sudden, deep sincerity coming from the guy who usually caused explosions for fun.
"What's with that..." she mumbled.
After a few seconds, she abruptly turned her head away, staring very intently at a blank wall. A furious blush crept up her neck, turning the tips of her ears a bright, glowing red.
"Talking all mushy like that..." she whispered, though she completely failed to hide the massive, relieved smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You're making it sound like I'm some petty, insecure kid."
She took a deep breath, slapped her cheeks with both hands, and spun back around, pointing a dramatic finger at him.
"Fine! Since you put it that way, this young lady will reluctantly continue to look out for you!" she declared, her signature bubbly confidence returning in full force. "Regardless of whether you're a super-genius or a total blockhead, I'll protect you!"
"I'm counting on it," Rekka said, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. "I'm incredibly fragile right now. If you don't believe me, we can arm-wrestle. You'll see exactly how pathetic my physical stats are today."
"Oh, you're on!" March slammed her elbow onto the table, grinning fiercely.
Despite her cute appearance, March 7th was a seasoned Trailblazer who drew a heavy bow in active combat. Her physical strength was nothing to scoff at.
They locked hands.
"Three, two, one, go!" March cheered.
The match ended in exactly zero point five seconds.
Rekka was absolutely crushed. His knuckles hit the table with a dull thud. He gritted his teeth, straining his arm, trying to push back, but March's hand felt like it was bolted to a titanium pillar. He couldn't budge her a single millimeter.
"Eh?" March blinked down at their hands, looking genuinely confused. "Why does it feel like you aren't even trying?"
"I assure you, I am putting my entire soul into this," Rekka wheezed, finally giving up and letting his arm go limp. He pulled his hand back and massaged his sore wrist. "I told you, my physical attributes under the Path of Erudition are below average. That single round just exhausted my entire exercise quota for the day."
"Is it really that exaggerated?" March asked, leaning over the table.
"It is exactly that exaggerated. If I want a drink right now, I literally have to go find Dan Heng and ask him to unscrew the bottle cap for me."
He kept his face perfectly stoic, playing the role of the frail academic to perfection.
In reality, this was all a calculated ruse. Back in his old school days, he had used this exact arm-wrestling trick to casually hold hands with half the girls in his class. The classics never failed.
"Wow... that is way too weak," March muttered, looking at him with genuine pity.
"Indeed. I am but a frail, helpless academic," Rekka said, his tone entirely too righteous. "Which is why I will be relying entirely on Senior March 7th to protect me from the big, scary universe. Didn't you just promise to look out for me?"
"Eh? I... well, yeah, I did say that..." March stammered, caught off guard by the sudden title. Then, the word Senior fully registered in her brain. She instantly straightened up and puffed out her chest proudly. "Of course! This young lady is as good as her word! Leave the heavy lifting to me!"
"Senior March is just so reliable," Rekka praised, laying the flattery on thick.
March completely melted. The repeated use of the word Senior acted like a direct hit to her ego. A delightfully silly, vacant smile spread across her face as she drifted off into her own little world, entirely forgetting her previous anxieties about being judged.
'Ehehe.''I'm a senior.''I have a junior to protect.'
"Um, Senior March?" Rekka called out, waving a hand in front of her glazed-over eyes.
"Mm-hmm?" she hummed happily.
"You're drooling."
"Ah?!" March shrieked, violently slapping a hand over her mouth to wipe away the non-existent spit.
Rekka watched her panic with dry amusement. 'Yep. She's definitely not acting. She really is just that easy to read.'
"Alright, alright," Rekka chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "As a reward for your generous willingness to protect my frail academic body, I will grant you three wishes."
"Grant me three wishes?" March lowered her hand, her eyes narrowing into suspicious little slits. "For real?"
She looked him up and down, taking in his relaxed posture and completely unthreatening aura. "But you just said you're super frail today. You can't even open a bottle cap! How are you supposed to grant my wishes?"
"I said I walk the Path of Erudition today," Rekka corrected, tapping his temple. "My strength lies in mechanics, engineering, and raw intellect. Not physical stats."
March's eyes lit up with sudden excitement, but the spark was quickly replaced by deep, defensive paranoia. She took a step back, pointing an accusing finger at him.
"Wait a minute! You aren't one of those creepy genie types who grants wishes but demands a terrible, ironic price, are you?! I've read way too many light novels! This exact plotline always ends up being a huge trap!"
"Why on earth would I trap you?" Rekka sighed, exasperated by her imagination. "What I mean is, with my current intellect, I can calculate the optimal variables to bring you the exact result you want in the most effortless, mathematically sound manner possible."
March continued to size him up, clearly unconvinced. Sure, his tone sounded incredibly confident, but looking at his currently thin arms and thoroughly average physique, he didn't exactly radiate wish-granting deity energy.
"Fine. Since you're offering..." She crossed her arms, her eyes darting around the room as she pondered her options. Suddenly, a bright grin broke across her face. "Then this young lady's first wish is... I want an ice cream machine that can make thirty different flavors! The super expensive, high-tech kind they show in the IPC commercials!"
Rekka didn't even blink. He just offered a calm, knowing smile.
"Alright. Just you wait."
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