Chapter 16: I Just Want to Challenge My Own Weakness
Dan Heng's gaze landed on the pristine box resting in Rekka's hands. A rare, microscopic twitch tugged at the corner of the Express guard's mouth.
"Just having a little fun," Rekka declared, his tone practically dripping with righteous justification. "Making Uncle Yang happy, making March happy, making me happy—making everyone happy. It is a public service, really."
"...That sounds highly suspicious." Dan Heng crossed his arms, his spear nowhere in sight but his guard definitely up.
"Not suspicious at all. Zero suspicion." Rekka waved a dismissive hand, rattling the carefully wiped-down model box. "Do you want in on this or not?"
After a brief, whispered explanation of the impending chaos, Dan Heng did not even hesitate. He gave a firm, decisive nod.
"Count me in."
"Dan Heng!" March 7th gasped, her bright pink-and-blue eyes lighting up like supernovas. "Don't tell me you want to see Uncle Yang's face crack too?"
"Correct."
It was a universal truth: people never felt fatigue when they were actively up to no good.
March 7th already had her custom camera gripped tightly in her hands, the lens cap popped off and ready for action.
"Uncle Yang, I found something good!" Rekka called out, strolling into the room with practiced nonchalance. "The Conductor said this was just some old junk taking up space and was going to toss it out the airlock, but I figured you might be interested in taking a look."
He walked right up to Welt, who was sitting up with the slightly rumpled aura of a man who had just finished a nap.
"Are you feeling better?" Rekka asked, the picture of innocent concern.
"Oh, yes. I am perfectly fine. Just woke up," Welt replied, adjusting his glasses. He blinked, his gaze dropping to the item in the young man's hands. "Wait. You said what you are holding is... junk?"
"Yep. Total junk." Rekka nodded, not a single blink betraying his lie. "Pom-Pom said these were just random trinkets left behind by previous passengers. They were taking up premium storage space in the back, so they were scheduled for incineration. I thought I would sift through it first to see if there was anything salvageable, and I happened to find this—"
He casually shoved the pristine, ultra-rare model box toward the older man.
"Take a look. Is this worth keeping? If not, I will just go toss it in the recycler."
Over by the doorway, March 7th was practically vibrating. Her shoulders shook violently as she stifled her giggles, the camera already pressed flush against her face, her finger hovering over the shutter button.
Beside her, Dan Heng leaned casually against the doorframe. His arms remained crossed. To the untrained eye, he looked completely expressionless. To anyone who actually knew him, the intense effort required to suppress the upward curve of his lips was obvious.
"What—!"
Welt Yang's carefully cultivated composure shattered into a million pieces.
The mature, steady, reliable Uncle Yang of the Astral Express was, in reality, a complete facade. Deep down, Mr. Welt was just an overgrown child who liked to dramatically draw the curtains during strategy meetings for atmosphere and wore zero-prescription glasses purely because they looked cool.
"Wait—"
Welt suddenly froze.
He slowly lifted his head. His sharp gaze darted from the pristine box in Rekka's hands, up to the boy's completely unbothered face, then drifted toward the doorway. He took in March 7th, who looked ready to explode, and finally landed on Dan Heng.
Dan Heng held his stoic mask, but a tiny, traitorous twitch at the corner of his mouth gave him away.
March 7th was faring much worse. Her cheeks were puffed out like a hoarding hamster, her eyes dancing with absolute mirth.
Rekka simply stood there, offering a bright, entirely harmless smile.
"...The three of you."
A vein pulsed lightly near the corner of Welt's eye.
"You did this on purpose?"
"What is on purpose?" March 7th blinked her large, innocent eyes, lowering the camera just an inch. "What are you talking about, Uncle Yang? We have absolutely no idea what you mean."
"You—"
The moment Welt realized he had walked right into a trap, he could only shake his head with a helpless sigh. His eyes drifted back to the precious model. If this was the kind of trick they were playing, Old Yang honestly would not mind falling for it every single day.
'You think you can test Old Yang with just this?'he thought.'Fine. You win.'
Mr. Welt simply wanted to challenge his own weakness. And as a veteran kitbasher and mecha enthusiast, this specific temptation was his absolute kryptonite.
Internally, Welt was screaming. 'I cannot take it anymore! Give me the model! Give me my precious, precious model!' He was radiating total Elder Jinchi vibes—like a greedy monk who had just spotted a legendary treasure and was willing to burn down a monastery to get it.
"Ahem."
Welt executed a flawless, tactical throat-clear.
"Well, Rekka."
His voice leveled out, dropping into a calm, measured register that carried the perfect hint of elder-like kindness and boundless tolerance.
"Since these are unclaimed items left behind by previous passengers... as a senior member of the Express, I have a strict obligation to help you, and the Express as a whole, identify their true historical value. After all, carelessly throwing away someone's cherished sentiments, or treating precious relics as mere trash, is simply not the Trailblaze way."
It was a brilliantly high-sounding excuse.
If his hand had not already shot out to snatch the box from Rekka's grip, the speech might have actually been convincing.
"Oh—so that is how it is."
Rekka dragged out his words, acting as though a deep truth had just been revealed to him.
"Then I will have to trouble you, Uncle Yang. Could you be so kind as to help me appraise this?"
He pushed the box forward exactly one inch.
"Yes, it is only right. Only right," Welt muttered, his hands closing around the cardboard.
In that split second, Rekka swore he could feel the sheer, desperate physical strength in the older man's grip.
Click!
A bright flash illuminated the room.
March 7th perfectly captured the exact, unhinged expression of pure joy on Welt's face the moment he secured the prize.
"It seems Uncle Yang recognizes this one?" Rekka asked, stepping back.
"More than recognize!"
Welt, who had been a massive model enthusiast back on his home world of Earth, had only fallen deeper into the hobby after boarding the Astral Express and discovering the wider universe's catalog.
"This is a limited-edition hyper-articulated series!" Welt gushed, completely abandoning his elder persona. "At first, the market price for these was not actually that high. But after the original manufacturing project was abruptly disbanded two Amber Eras ago, the scarcity skyrocketed, and it became incredibly sought after!"
He rambled on and on, detailing the joint mechanics and the paint finish, entirely forgetting the cool, collected image he was supposed to be maintaining.
After a solid five minutes of geeking out, the temperature in Welt's brain finally cooled down. He paused, realizing his audience, and cleared his throat again.
"Alright, Rekka. Out with it. What do you want in exchange for giving me such a gift?"
Welt was an old hand at this game. There was no way he could not see through their blatant bribery.
Rekka's grin widened. "Uncle Yang, I am actually quite interested in your cane."
...
Welt stared in absolute silence at his newly modified Star of Eden.
He let out a long, heavy sigh.
He knew Rekka's current Path had made him unusually curious and highly capable, but he had never expected the boy to be this terrifyingly efficient.
In the span of just half an hour, this chaotic gremlin had modified the Star of Eden completely beyond recognition.
"...You call this a simple modification?" Welt asked, his voice dangerously flat.
"Yep," Rekka nodded, acting as if the metallic monstrosity on the table was perfectly normal. "I released about... hmm, let us say thirty percent of the originally sealed Imaginary energy levels? Then I slapped on a custom energy-focusing module and improved the output path to reduce blowback. Now, if you channel it with full force—"
He paused, tapping his chin as he ran some rapid mental calculations.
"It can probably wipe out a planet's entire surface within three seconds."
"...Within three seconds?" Welt's hand actually trembled.
"Well, that is just the theoretical value," Rekka added helpfully. "Actual field use depends entirely on your personal control. But with your vast combat experience, Uncle Yang, I do not think it will be an issue. The margin of error should not exceed two seconds either way."
Welt stared at the cane, then back at the boy. "You turned my walking stick... into a planet-destroying weapon?"
"To be precise, I just made it vastly more efficient at releasing the power you already possessed," Rekka corrected, wagging a finger. "I restructured the internal matrix for you. You are actually much more accustomed to using Honkai Energy, are you not? So I adjusted the conversion rate..."
Rekka launched into a highly technical, professional breakdown of the weapon's new physics.
"I already drew up the new schematics. They are right here." Rekka slid a stack of papers across the table. "You can look them over first. I am absolutely certain you will understand the math with your level of expertise, Uncle Yang. But you are always welcome to ask me questions—specifically while I am still in my Erudition state, of course."
Welt picked up the blueprints. He unfolded the crisp paper, his eyes scanning the densely packed lines, geometric matrices, and complex formulas clearly marked across the page.
He read them.
And to his own mild horror, he understood them perfectly.
The sheer genius of the engineering overrode his initial shock. The former Herrscher of Reason leaned over the table, his eyes narrowing in intense concentration.
"This output loop is brilliant... but I suggest modifying this specific containment valve here," Welt murmured, pointing at a junction on the paper.
And just like that, the two of them descended into a rapid-fire discussion of theoretical physics and localized destruction.
"Oh, right, good catch," Rekka muttered, scratching the back of his head. "I did not actually factor in the scenario where we do not want to completely vaporize the enemy into subatomic dust. Uncle Yang, give me five minutes..."
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