A heavy, collective silence descended upon the Neverwinter Workshop.
Serval stood frozen, her eyes locked onto the two pathetic piles of twisted tal, shattered brass, and scattered gears resting on the floor. Her mouth opened and closed silently. A deep ache ford in her chest for her ruined collection of vintage phonographs, yet beneath that grief, a quiet sigh of relief escaped her lips.
Thank the Architects. It appeared this utterly deranged repair technique was entirely exclusive to Leon. Nobody else could replicate it.
Just monts ago, Leon had casually swung his baseball bat twice, and the resulting spectacle had nearly shattered her entire worldview as a seasoned chanic.
"Sorry, we will definitely compensate you for the damaged phonographs," March 7th said, her voice laced with guilt as she bowed her head repeatedly.
"Um, it is fine, I..."
Serval trailed off. She looked down at the tragic tallic fragnts, then shifted her gaze to Leon, who wore a completely innocent expression. Beside him, Stelle and Caelus slumped their shoulders, looking like kicked puppies. Compensation was the least of her worries right now. The sheer ntal damage inflicted by witnessing this so-called repair thod was far more severe.
"You guys just lack the proper skills! Watch !"
Leon shook his head, clicking his tongue with a look of deep disappointnt, acting like a master whose apprentices had failed to grasp the simplest lesson.
He stepped forward, rolling his shoulders. Raising his baseball bat high, he brought it crashing down directly onto the pile of shattered fragnts. A thick cloud of dust kicked up into the air.
Clang! Bang! Smash! Ding! Clatter! Wham!
The violent cacophony echoed through the workshop. When the dust finally settled, two pristine phonographs sat perfectly intact on the floor, their brass horns gleaming as if they had just rolled off the assembly line.
"See? This is the correct way to repair things!" Leon puffed out his chest, resting the bat casually over his shoulder.
"I have learned it! I have completely learned it!" Stelle and Caelus instantly snapped out of their depression. Their eyes sparkled with newfound enlightennt as they nodded vigorously, entirely convinced they had just witnessed the absolute pinnacle of chanical engineering.
"Do not learn that!" March 7th grabbed her own hair, her voice cracking with pure exhaustion. "Can you two not just follow Miss Serval and learn proper, normal repair techniques? This... is this kind of operation sothing a normal human can even master?!"
Serval crouched down slowly, staring blankly at the scene that blatantly defied every known law of physics. Her long, proud career as a chanic felt like a complete joke. She wanted to formulate a logical sentence, but her brain simply refused to supply the words.
"This... this is not scientific at all..." she muttered, running her fingers over the resurrected phonographs.
Her eyes widened further. Not only was the exterior completely flawless, but peering through the grating, the internal gears and springs looked as though they had never suffered a scratch. If anything, the chanisms were running smoother than they had before the destruction.
"Miss Serval, there is no need to be so surprised." Welt pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his expression entirely calm. "In the vastness of the universe, there are always unique existences capable of breaking conventional understanding."
"Exactly! This is a unique, ancestral craft. I do not just share it with outsiders." Leon twirled the bat in his hand with a smug grin.
Off to the side, Firefly covered her mouth, a soft laugh escaping her lips. Her gentle gaze remained fixed on the trio of Leon, Stelle, and Caelus. It seed that no matter what outrageous things they did, she found it entirely endearing.
Despite their chaotic nature, Stelle and Caelus proved they were not entirely hopeless. They obviously could not master Leon's reality-bending Physical Repair thod, but when they actually sat down to follow Serval's proper instructions, their learning speed was terrifying. Within minutes, the duo had grasped the core essentials of chanical repair.
It made sense. These were the sa two individuals who could casually solve complex Solitary Wave Algorithm puzzles without breaking a sweat. Stelle and Caelus loved to goof off and cause chaos, but when it ca to raw talent, they were brilliant.
As the group gathered their things to leave, Serval leaned against her workbench and offered a teasing smile. "Want to stay in Belobog and be my official assistants?"
Stelle and Caelus exchanged a look, genuinely tempted by the offer for a brief second.
After a few more pleasantries and warm goodbyes, the crew finally stepped out of the Neverwinter Workshop and into the cool air of the city.
"Firefly, it is ti for us to go," Silver Wolf said quietly, blowing a pink bubblegum bubble that popped with a soft snap.
The primary reason the Stellaron Hunters had co to Belobog in the first place was to seek Leon out. They needed him to treat Firefly's Entropy Loss Syndro. If not for this desperate hope, Firefly would never have left the cold, tallic confines of the Sam armor. Her physical condition was simply too fragile; every second spent outside the suit usually caused her body to deteriorate further.
When Silver Wolf first read Elio's script, a rare knot of anxiety had ford in her stomach. What if Leon failed? What if he could not cure her? Exposing Firefly outside the armor was a massive gamble.
Thankfully, the gamble paid off perfectly. Firefly's unwavering trust in Elio's foresight was rewarded, and Leon had miraculously cured the chronic, terminal illness that had plagued her existence.
Yet, sothing else occupied Silver Wolf's thoughts. From the mont they arrived until now, Leon had not once brought up the specific condition he had demanded when joining the Stellaron Hunters—the promise that they would help him find a partner. He had simply done the work, saved Firefly, and goofed around.
'I guess I underestimated him,' Silver Wolf thought, her fingers tapping rhythmically against her holographic console. She glanced sideways. It was painfully obvious that Firefly harbored a very deep, very warm impression of her savior.
"Do we really have to leave right now..." Firefly murmured, her voice tinged with genuine reluctance.
The script Elio had provided ended the mont she stepped out of the armor and received her treatnt. Everything after that was a complete blank. For the first ti in her life, she was free to choose, and right now, she just wanted to spend a little more ti with these loud, chaotic, and warm people.
"Leaving so soon? I was really hoping we could have a massive pillow fight tonight," March 7th pouted, crossing her arms.
"Exactly! Exactly! You have to leave after the pillow fight!" Stelle grabbed Firefly's hands, her eyes wide and pleading.
Silver Wolf looked at the expectant, bright expression on Firefly's face. The hacker let out a long, defeated sigh. "Alright. We can stay a bit longer."
Personally, Silver Wolf had zero interest in swinging pillows around. She would much rather lock herself in a room and grind out a few ranked matches. But seeing Firefly this animated and happy, she refused to be the one to ruin the mood.
"Ha, I am so tired."
"Right now, I just want to collapse onto a massive, soft bed and sleep until I forget what year it is."
"It really feels like the first day of every Trailblaze journey drains all the life out of ."
"Right, Dan Heng?"
As they walked down the stone-paved streets toward the hotel, March 7th stretched her arms high above her head, letting out a dramatic yawn.
"That is entirely because you burn through too much energy doing pointless things," Dan Heng replied, his tone flat and rciless.
She was complaining about being exhausted, yet she was the one actively organizing a nocturnal war with bedding. Dan Heng exchanged a brief glance with Welt. Both n had already silently agreed that they would absolutely not be participating in this impending battlefield.
"Wow, look at this grand lobby! Tonight I can finally sleep on a real mattress and hug a fluffy pillow."
"I bet a high-end place like this definitely uses premium down-filled pillows!"
The mont the grand doors of the hotel swung open, March 7th's exhaustion vanished into thin air. Her boundless energy returned in full force, bringing a collective smile to the faces of the group.
The hotel lobby truly lived up to March 7th's high praise. Massive crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, casting a warm, golden glow over the space. The immaculate, polished marble floors perfectly reflected the slightly tired but highly spirited figures of the Trailblazers and Hunters.
The check-in process at the front desk went incredibly smoothly. Perhaps it was because the Upper District of Belobog rarely hosted such a large, lively group of outsiders, or perhaps Supre Guardian Cocolia had already issued strict VIP instructions behind the scenes. Either way, the staff treated them with exceptional, almost reverent warmth.
Of course, the room assignnt process did not go without a hitch.
Stelle and Caelus imdiately launched a coordinated campaign to share a single room with Leon. Their stated excuse was a burning desire to continue discussing the deep essence of the repair arts late into the night.
This blatant attempt at chaos was swiftly and brutally suppressed by the combined authority of March 7th and Welt. Citing the absolute necessity of not disturbing the normal rest of the other guests, the chaotic duo was forcibly separated into their own respective rooms.
After a brief period of unpacking and settling into their luxurious accommodations, the main event finally comnced.
Inside March 7th's incredibly spacious suite, the atmosphere crackled with competitive tension. Cheers and taunts echoed off the walls as March 7th and Stelle took their positions.
The hotel's premium soft mattresses and fluffy down pillows were indeed of the highest quality, and right now, they served as the ultimate, highly convenient arsenal.
"Take this!"
March 7th initiated the hostility. She stepped into a flawless pitcher's stance, her arm whipping forward as a pristine white pillow launched through the air like a guided missile, aid directly at Caelus the mont he stepped through the doorway.
Caelus's combat instincts flared. He dropped his shoulder, smoothly sidestepping the incoming projectile. Without missing a beat, he snatched a heavy decorative cushion off the nearby sofa, spinning around to launch his counterattack.
"Haha, way too slow!" Caelus shouted, hurling the cushion back across the room.
The temperature in the suite spiked instantly. The battle lines were drawn.
Pillows flew through the air in a chaotic crossfire. While the high-quality fabric held strong and prevented a blizzard of feathers from erupting, the rush of displaced air and the heavy, satisfying thuds of cotton striking targets echoed endlessly throughout the room.
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