Breaking the Melon? Or Pioneering!

"How... how is that possible? Lady Herta, are you certain it's meme infection?" Wilder's voice shot up an octave, and he sprang from his seat as if propelled by springs. Astonishment and disbelief flooded his face.

The Herta puppet's eyes narrowed slightly, light flickering within them as if assessing Wilder's reaction. "Does my judgment require your validation?"

Herta's icy voice felt like a bucket of ice water poured over Wilder's head, jolting him instantly awake. Only then did he realize how foolish and dangerous his previous question had been. He quickly took a deep breath, forcing himself, like a rusty gear grinding into motion, to muster a somewhat stiff smile. He spoke in the most respectful tone possible: "No, of course not, Lady Herta. I absolutely did not mean to question you. It's just... this news is incredibly sudden, hard to believe for a moment."

"I... I need to report this to the Corporation immediately and launch a full investigation right away." He struggled to steady his ragged breathing, taking another deep breath to suppress the churning emotions. Images of Director Topaz's descriptions of memes flashed through his mind like a movie reel – mental contamination, cognitive dissonance, collapse of self-awareness... These cold, ominous terms cut at his nerves like sharp blades. For an ordinary businessman like him, meme infection was a fantastical event, utterly beyond his scope of understanding and handling.

"Good. It seems you marginally grasp the severity of the situation," the Herta puppet's emotionless voice sounded again, steady as a precision machine. "Then you'd best immediately investigate your sponsor—that masked fellow."

"Remember, the investigators must be at least P44 rank within your company to be qualified, and capable, of handling this matter."

Wilder froze again, stunned as if by a sudden clap of thunder, confusion and incomprehension warring on his face. "Mr. Giovanni? You mean... this meme infection incident is connected to him?"

"Who knows?" Herta's voice remained cold and mechanical, betraying no emotion. But to Wilder's ears, it sounded like a meaningful warning, a Sword of Damocles hanging over his head, making his heart clench. "I am not demanding any compensation from your company." Herta paused slightly, seemingly choosing her words. "I simply need to see your company's attitude regarding this matter, and your sincerity in resolving the problem."

Fine beads of sweat instantly broke out on Wilder's forehead, as if he were baking under a scorching summer sun. He nodded rapidly like a chick pecking rice. "We understand, Lady Herta, we completely understand! We will immediately, immediately investigate Mr. Giovanni's background thoroughly. If he is indeed involved in this incident, our company will definitely give you, Lady Herta, the most reasonable and satisfactory response." He paused briefly, like someone walking a cliff edge, each step cautious, carefully adding, "We assure you, this process will not take too long!"

The Herta puppet fell silent once more. The atmosphere in the room instantly solidified, so oppressive it was almost hard to breathe. The heavy pressure settled on Wilder's shoulders like a physical weight, making even breathing difficult.

"You had better deliver on everything you've promised," Herta's voice finally cut through the silence like a cold blade, carrying undeniable authority and warning. "Otherwise, I trust your company is quite familiar with Herta's methods."

Wilder felt his shirt clinging to his back, completely soaked in cold sweat. The chilling sensation against his skin sent waves of fear through him. Silence descended again, broken only by the faint glimmer in the Herta puppet's eyes and Wilder's slightly rapid breathing, both starkly clear in the quiet space.

Daziel and March 7th stood silently to the side, taking everything in but offering no comment. The air was thick with suffocating tension, like a string pulled taut to its absolute limit, ready to snap under immense pressure at any moment.

Wilder struggled to compose himself, trying to dispel the fear creeping through him. He asked cautiously again, "Then... Lady Herta, regarding the matter of the champion candidate..." He stammered, like a child caught misbehaving, afraid of saying the wrong thing. "This champion candidate position, are you still willing to hold it? If you're unwilling, we can try to find another suitable candidate... to replace you. Of course, deep down, we desperately hope you will continue..."

The Herta puppet's eyes shifted slightly, as if genuinely considering the question. "I will arrange for another puppet to take over this position," Herta finally spoke again, her voice devoid of emotion. "Before Daziel actually becomes the champion, I don't want any unnecessary attention drawn by startling the snake with a sudden change in the champion candidate lineup."

Hearing this, Wilder felt as if a thousand-pound weight had been lifted. His tightly wound nerves finally relaxed, and he let out a long sigh of relief. The heavy stone in his heart had finally landed safely. "Thank you very much for your understanding, Lady Herta," he said sincerely, his voice filled with gratitude. "Changing the champion candidate is indeed no small matter. If you were to suddenly quit at this critical juncture, I honestly wouldn't be able to explain it to my superiors back at HQ." He wiped the sweat from his forehead, secretly thankful that Lady Herta hadn't made things difficult at this key moment. Otherwise, the consequences would have been truly unimaginable.

"Alright, don't waste time here. Go handle what you need to do," Herta's voice sounded again, this time perhaps tinged with a hint of impatience, like shooing away a buzzing mosquito.

"Yes, yes, Lady Herta," Wilder replied as if granted amnesty. He bowed deeply. "I will immediately begin the investigation and will definitely give you a satisfactory response as soon as possible."

With that, he turned, practically slipping away as if his soles were greased, and hurried towards the door. Only after firmly closing the door, completely blocking Herta's icy gaze, did he dare to stop, gasping for air, trying to calm his still wildly beating heart.

Wilder walked out of the room on unsteady legs. The somewhat dim corridor lights cast long shadows, emphasizing his disheveled and weary state. He couldn't help glancing back at the closed door, almost feeling Herta's cold, sharp gaze still on him, like thorns on his back, making him deeply uncomfortable.

Wilder hastily pulled out his personal communicator, fingers trembling as he quickly dialed Topaz's number. However, a cold, mechanical female voice responded from the terminal, mercilessly announcing: "The number you have dialed is temporarily unavailable. Please try again later..." He hadn't expected that his superior, whom he had always relied on, was currently less than a dozen meters away yet completely unreachable, as if she had vanished.

"Damn it!" Wilder cursed under his breath. An unprecedented sense of unease grew rapidly within him like creeping vines. He realized the complexity of the situation likely far exceeded his initial imagination.

He quickened his pace, hurrying towards the elevator. He had already decided: he must return to company headquarters immediately, gather personnel, and launch a full investigation into Giovanni. If Director Topaz had truly met with some accident and couldn't be contacted, he would have to find another high-level executive capable of taking responsibility and managing the situation! Whatever it took, the truth had to be uncovered in the shortest time possible!

The elevator doors slid open slowly. The car was empty, its cold metal surfaces reflecting the corridor lights. Wilder took a deep breath, stepped inside, and pressed the button for the lower levels of the space station. The elevator walls, smooth as mirrors, clearly reflected Wilder's tired and anxious face – eyes sunken, complexion pale, forehead beaded with sweat. The elevator descended slowly, cold numbers ticking down on the display. Wilder felt his own heart sink along with the elevator, falling into a bottomless abyss. A profound sense of helplessness washed over him like a tide. He didn't know what awaited him next.

The elevator finally reached the ground floor, the metal doors sliding open. Wilder strode out, not sparing a glance for the station lobby's scenery, heading straight for the exit with large steps. All he wanted now was to get back to the company as quickly as possible, gather everyone he could mobilize, and immediately begin an all-out investigation into Giovanni. No matter the cost, the hidden truth had to be completely unearthed! Everything had to be clarified quickly; otherwise, what awaited him and the Corporation was Lady Herta's wrath!

"Hmph hmph! Hmph hmph!" Back in the room, soft whimpering sounds, like those of a small animal, broke the silence.

Daziel looked down. The Trotter, transformed from Topaz, was restlessly wriggling its plump body on his shoulder. Its silver form arched insistently, as if trying hard to express something, or perhaps nuzzling his collar affectionately.

"Hm?" Daziel, slightly puzzled, gently lifted the Trotter from his shoulder and placed it on the floor. He then bent down, his fingertips softly stroking its smooth back.

Feeling Daziel's touch, the Trotter's whimpers grew more urgent. It nudged its small head against Daziel's fingers, carrying a pleading tone. Daziel paused, seeming to understand something. He asked tentatively, "Are you serious? Are you sure you want to change back?"

The Trotter nodded vigorously without hesitation, letting out a few rapid, coquettish squeaks, as if afraid Daziel wouldn't agree.

"Alright..." Daziel sighed helplessly, but a fond smile touched his lips. "Fine, I can't say no to you." He reached out, his thumb gently stroking the Trotter's fine, smooth body, feeling the warmth against his palm.

Instantly, a soft light bloomed from the Trotter. As the light faded, the Trotter vanished, replaced by Topaz's graceful figure reappearing in the room.

She looked slightly apologetic, her delicate brows furrowed slightly. Looking at Daziel, she said softly, "Sorry, Master. A message suddenly came from the company. It seems only I can manage the situation in Belobog right now. I'm afraid I'll have to handle this personally."

Daziel looked up at her, a questioning glint in his eyes, a playful smile on his lips. "Then what about tonight? Who's going to fill your spot for me?"

Hearing this, Topaz shot Daziel an exasperated glare, a blush rising on her exquisite face. She retorted with a hint of pouting, "Aren't there others you can pick from in this room? Just be short one me for now."

"Besides," she added suggestively, "don't you have another usable Aether Spirit now? Miss Asta hasn't been 'Trailblazed' by you yet, has she? As a Nameless, shouldn't you go 'Trailblaze' her properly? How could you not?"

"Hey hey! Miss Topaz!" March 7th, standing nearby, could finally take no more. She jumped in, hands on her hips, interjecting indignantly, "The 'Trailblaze' of our Astral Express doesn't mean that!" She puffed her cheeks, looking ready to defend the Express's honor, her tone full of displeasure.

Daziel chuckled at March 7th's huffy expression but ignored her protest. He turned back to Topaz, his tone carrying an undeniable command, "You can go, but I have one condition."

Topaz blinked, signaling him to continue.

"You are not to remove your Aether Coding Plugin. Handle your official business with that 'Purple Mood' still in place. Also, remember to change into a longer skirt so no one notices anything suspicious." Daziel's tone left no room for refusal.

Topaz's cheeks instantly flushed crimson. She gently bit her lower lip, her eyes shifting, before finally giving a tiny nod, answering like a mosquito's buzz, "Understood. Thank you, Master." Her voice was barely audible, yet tinged with an unspeakable coyness.

The door opened softly and closed again; Topaz was gone.

Daziel turned, his gaze falling on the Aether Coin resting quietly in his palm. "If you come with me, do you not need to manage things at the space station?" he asked the coin softly, as if speaking to a living person.

The air was silent for a few seconds. Then, Daziel nodded slightly again, a meaningful smile playing on his lips, as if he had received a reply. "Understood. As long as the space station can continue operating, that's fine. Then you can obediently come with me."

If an unsuspecting station researcher were to walk in at that moment, they would undoubtedly be baffled by the scene, perhaps even questioning Daziel's sanity for talking to a coin. However, only March 7th and the Herta puppet, his intimate companions long accustomed to his strange behavior, were present. They simply watched quietly, showing no surprise.

"Let's go. We'll sleep on the Express tonight," Daziel said, putting away the coin and getting up, addressing Herta and March 7th. Both women nodded in unison. The three walked out of the room side-by-side, beginning their journey back to the Astral Express.

Night fell. On the Astral Express, inside March 7th's room.

On the soft, wide bed, four bodies lay entangled, nestled side-by-side. After an intense and satisfying "battle," a lazy, post-coital atmosphere filled the room, with the faint hint of blood lingering in the air. Clearly, the blood belonged to Asta. As a pampered young lady, Asta had never experienced such pain. In the end, March 7th and Herta had to hold her down to complete the process.

Afterward, the four chatted casually, the three women sharing their feelings about losing their virginity, the atmosphere shy yet comfortable.

Suddenly, Herta's expression changed abruptly. Her previously relaxed demeanor instantly turned serious, like clouds obscuring a clear sky.

"Daziel," Herta's voice lowered, carrying a rare gravity that shattered the room's easy mood. "A very... special challenger has arrived at the Victory Paradise I oversee."

"Hm?" Daziel looked at Herta with mild confusion, raising an eyebrow. "What challenger? How special? Enough to make you care this much?"

"A clown wearing a mask. After this incident, I really don't have a good impression of mask-wearers," Herta said slowly, her voice tinged with clear disgust, her delicate brows knitting slightly. "Especially that girl. She reeks of the Masked Fools so strongly it's almost overflowing. I particularly dislike these kinds of women who love playing petty tricks... Wearing revealing red clothes, looking so provocative, who knows who she's trying to seduce..."

Daziel listened quietly without interrupting.

"She calls herself—Sparkle." Herta uttered the challenger's name, each syllable carrying a chill.

The name struck Daziel like an electric shock. Sparkle? How could it be Sparkle? What kind of strange timeline deviation is this? Why has she appeared so early?

...Right. Good timing, anyway. I've wanted to screw her for a long time...

Though inner turmoil raged within him, Daziel remained outwardly calm, merely narrowing his eyes slightly. "Well... she shouldn't be able to beat you, right?" he asked. He mused internally that although Herta usually seemed nonchalant about this game, treating it as mere pastime, her strength was definitely not to be underestimated. There should be no reason for her to lose easily.

However, Herta shook her head gravely, refuting his assumption. "Quite the opposite. She won."

"..." She paused, seeming hesitant, a look of disbelief flashing across her face. "It took you a full two minutes and forty-two seconds to beat me. But she... she beat me in just... thirty-one seconds."

"What?!" Daziel was truly shocked now. He shot up from the bed, eyes wide with disbelief. What kind of Aether Spirit did that little devil use? So terrifying? Even stronger than my Cocolia and Topaz combined?

His expression turned instantly grave. He stared intently at Herta, wanting to hear more details.

___

💥 Goal smashed! 🎉 You guys are incredible! We hit over 30 Patrons! Here are your 10 bonus chapters! 🥰 Seriously, THANK YOU! 🙏

Your super happy director is celebrating another translation release! 🥳 You can find Honkai Star Rail, I can touch Castorice 😉

Want to support more translations and get early access? Check it out here: patreon.com/Walnutchan 😘 - Director Hu! ✨