[Assistant Director is right!]
[So that's what you meant, Assistant Director?]
[Are you guys performing The Emperor's New Clothes?]
[Assistant Director has his own ideas.]
— —
However.
Unbeknownst to the others, the cosmic cowboy who couldn't be reached was currently lying low in the shadows of the dreamscape.
"'Hatred is the weakness of all weaklings.'"
Boothill opened his eyes. Text, headache—the weakest spot in his mind still lay exposed.
"To hell with bananas… it's happening again?"
Not far in front of him stood a bearded man who looked exactly like a pyramid scheme boss, talking away.
"This is everything I learned from Sleeping Banana Monkey…
Think about it carefully, everyone—the joy, sorrow, flashes of inspiration we feel… they almost entirely depend on subtle chemical changes in this body.
With just a little manipulation, they appear and disappear—you can even make yourself completely change personality in a short time.
So here's my conclusion: any deeply considered action isn't really much more advanced than the simple act of 'jumping up.'"
Boothill couldn't hide the disgust in his eyes. "What kind of bullshit is that. I'm going somewhere else."
"Sure…" March 7th's mind turned. "Hey—wait! Where are you going? It was hard enough getting you in here—don't do anything too conspicuous again. At least… don't point your gun at people anymore?"
Boothill gave a slight smile, bantered with March 7th for a bit, then went off alone to wander—at least in abnormal places, he could play the role of a normal person.
Meanwhile Montana, having accidentally learned Boothill's identity from March 7th, was trembling slightly.
March 7th patted her shoulder. "It's fine—he just looks scary. Dan Heng told me he meows all the time."
[???]
[HAHAHAHAHA.]
[Boothill's reputation just took damage.]
[Didn't expect Dan Heng to enjoy gossip too.]
[Gossip is human nature, okay.]
[I can't even imagine Dan Heng saying that with a straight face to March 7th.]
— —
The Sleeping Banana Club wasn't huge, but it wasn't small either. Boothill hadn't walked far before he noticed a member sneaking glances at him.
Boothill warily approached slowly. The member jumped in excitement. "Whoa… friend, you're really bold."
The next moment he pulled a gold-edged card from his pocket. "How did you know I got my hands on a super-rare 'Bana Edition Card'? And it's a foil one too!"
Boothill's mouth twitched. "Bro—you okay?"
"You actually got it right… ever since I got this, I can't eat or drink properly…"
"Sigh…" Boothill sighed, turned his head—and saw a Sleeping Banana Monkey staring at him with eyes full of wisdom. "Bana bana bana! Bana bana bana!"
"Not a single weird spot—now this is truly banana strange."
With no other choice, Boothill returned to March 7th. "Nameless sis—can we talk in private?"
March 7th frowned slightly. "Private? What can't we say here…"
"Ah… it's fine, March. You guys talk first. I'll wait over there." Though her tone was as usual, Montana's expression still carried tension as she hurried away.
The two moved to an empty corner.
March 7th let out a heavy breath. "Look at you—I just calmed her down."
"What else could I do? Treat him like a real bro?" Boothill cut straight to the point. "Drop the act, big-shot Nameless. How's progress on your side? When did you start targeting Dr. Primitive?"
"Dr. Primitive…?" March 7th immediately realized she'd slipped. "Ahem—yeah. Let's trade intel. You first!"
[Oh no—March 7th probably hasn't synced info with Dan Heng yet.]
[It's fine. Boothill's a Galaxy Ranger—this segment is just to fill March 7th's information gap. Otherwise she wouldn't even know what she's supposed to do here.]
[Got it—but it still feels kinda weird.]
— —
Explaining Dr. Primitive's deeds didn't take long. Boothill roughly described what the Doctor had done and his own suspicions about the monkeys.
"So that's how it is…" March 7th paused. "As expected—makes sense. Have you found anything in Reverie Reef?"
Boothill's expression darkened. He shook his head. "Nothing. But it doesn't matter. I've seen this kind of thing plenty of times. There's only one solution. We've all seen big scenes—no need for me to spell it out, right?"
March 7th raised an eyebrow. "Oh—I get what you mean."
"Straightforward. Good…"
Then the two spoke in unison.
Boothill: "Let's smash this place!"
March 7th: "Get me promoted to elite member."
Immediately afterward, both looked at each other in confusion.
"Uh… I was just joking. How did you top it with an even bigger one?" March 7th spoke first.
"This ain't a banana joke! If this were IPC dogs, I'd line 'em up for execution right now. But this place is full of kids—I can't make things hard on them. Dr. Primitive's done plenty of scummy things like using people as bait. Getting caught in that kind of trap once is enough."
"But you're still jumping right into the trap."
"Heh—ever seen a revolver backfire? If you time it right, it's stronger than a full magazine.
I don't know what banana is really behind this club—but judging from the noise in Reverie Reef, it's definitely very interested in this place. Once we actually start shooting, it won't be able to sit still.
If you don't have any better ideas—just do what I say, elite member."
"Hm… I actually do have an idea." March 7th looked confident. "Anyway—don't rush. Let's go see Montana again. Remember—be gentle."
— —
The two returned to Montana's side. After some talk, they obtained crucial information: a pure, untainted Sleeping Banana Monkey—one without all the random added definitions—was about to appear in Reverie Reef.
The only way to see it was to link with a Banana Helper.
"Sorry to keep you waiting. Oh—another member who wants to see Sleeping Banana Monkey?" At that moment, a Helper approached the group.
Boothill flashed a row of sharp teeth. "No—just me."
March 7th reminded from the side. "Eek—trying to sneak in again? If you don't understand Sleeping Banana Monkey enough, you can't link up, you know."
The Helper interrupted their talk. "Sir… though you look very unfamiliar, you're probably not an ordinary member, right?"
"Correct—you all say I've got talent." Boothill gave a smug, mysterious smile.
"Sir… though you look very unfamiliar, you're probably not an ordinary member, right?"
"Correct—you all say I've got talent."
March 7th grew more and more confused. "Hm? What talent…"
Boothill crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm an Elite-level member, number 244—March 7th."
[Stealing an account right in front of her?]
[Oh no—March 7th became a stand-in.]
[Now—this great one is March 7th.]
[March 7th again, Pom-Pom again—poor Boothill. From now on, everyone on the Astral Express is gonna mysteriously become wanted criminals.]
[Your identity when you're out in the world is whatever you make it.]
[As expected of a man of the jianghu—this routine is so natural.]
— —
Boothill's words truly startled March 7th beside him.
But the Helper was very satisfied. "Ah! So it's you—I've heard of you. You have potential to truly step into the origin. Please come to my side."
"Wait—what are you doing?" March 7th shouted at the advancing Boothill.
Boothill glanced sideways. "Dumb people take the bait. Clear-headed people strike back. Guard the outside for me."
[So cool!]
[Way too cool!]
[Way too decisive.]
[He's protecting March 7th.]
[I'm actually crying!]
[Galaxy Rangers—I really love this Path.]
— —
Ignoring March 7th's protests, Boothill reached out and established the link with the Helper.
"Hey—wait—hey—hey—so fast? For real? Does he actually have that much talent?"
The voice faded away—
Unfortunately, the sensory cutoff came too quickly. He didn't have time to hear the girl's question and reconsider his reckless move.
"'The answer is simple, miss—this gentleman…'"
"'…wants to return to the past more than anyone present.'"
The Helper's voice rang out, as if answering March 7th's question.
Boothill's consciousness gradually cleared. He scanned his surroundings—nothing seemed to have changed. "What banana nonsense is this—just this?"
The Helper appeared behind him without warning. "We meet again, sir."
"Hmph. Even the shittiest bar I've ever seen had more class than this. You call this a revelation?"
"Creating beautiful yet false prospects—that's a crude method, completely opposite to the spirit Sleeping Banana Monkey wants to convey to people.
Many members have come here seeking something—truth, happiness, peace… nothing but these.
Unfortunately there are no answers here—only one question: 'Will you become more miserable because of this?'"
Boothill's brows were practically knotted together. "What the hell is this crap?"
"Don't worry—I'll explain it to you in detail." The Helper led the way ahead while speaking. "For example… if I asked you to quit malt juice—what would you think of first?
Of course—having a drink, right? At this very moment, that's exactly what you're thinking."
Immediately two versions of Boothill appeared before him—each having made a different choice. Yet no matter which he picked, regret seemed inevitable.
"Self-reflection is crucial at all times. Look—this is the thought that surfaced in your mind when facing this question. Unfortunately, no matter which you choose, regret remains.
So let's imagine a scenario that doesn't exist in reality."
The Helper snapped his fingers. Under both their gazes, the two trains of thought vanished instantly without a trace.
"If that dependency on the drink had never existed from the beginning—this question would never arise, and both resulting trains of thought would disappear along with it. Tell me—'Will you become more miserable because of this?'"
[A life with regrets is still a life.]
[This means: you want to drink cola—but if you just never wanted to drink cola from the start, problem solved.]
[The premise doesn't hold.]
[As long as you're human you have emotions—and no matter what you choose, emotions always come with regret.]
"To hell with bananas—what's happening? I really don't feel like drinking anymore." Boothill grumbled inwardly. "Daring to rummage through my brain like this—no wonder the Synesthesia Beacon turned into this mess. This junk couldn't do that—the real bastard behind it, where are you?"
— —
"Next—let's turn our gaze to some more complex questions." The Helper pointed ahead—two IPC employees appeared. "For example—your 'hatred.' Hatred toward the Company. That really is an endless flame of rage."
Boothill glared fiercely at the Helper. "Since you know—think before you speak. Don't light your own fuse, banana."
"Don't rush. Sleeping Banana Monkey doesn't preach forgiveness or letting go—that's just nauseating. Of course it supports you taking revenge personally—just like now."
With that the Helper handed Boothill a revolver.
He watched Boothill step by step release the safety, pull the trigger—finally the IPC employees fell lifeless.
[Why does this feel so similar to Feixiao's segment.]
[Yeah—a little.]
[Did the Great Lan Sovereign cast another glance?]
— —
"How does it feel?"
Boothill gave a helpless smile. "Duh—shooting fake targets gets you excited?"
"I understand. Venting always helps people relax—and when relaxed, it's easier to accept harsh truths.
Now—just like before—imagine a scenario that doesn't exist in reality:
A person living for revenge—what happens if they lose their hatred?
'Will you become more miserable because of this?'"
"To hell with bananas—what kind of twisted logic are you spouting?" Boothill's anger surged—but suddenly it was released. No—not released—stripped away.
"But… what's happening? I actually feel… pretty okay right now. Yeah—who the banana cares?"
The Helper nodded in satisfaction. "Very good—you truly have great insight. Then let's continue to the next lesson… Galaxy Ranger.
Of course—I understand hatred isn't something so easily erased.
This will be the hardest lesson—so I'll stay by your side. Next… if you sever all ties, forget every connection you have with the world… Ranger sir—will you become more miserable because of this?"
This was the decisive moment. The man named Boothill knew it clearly.
Or… the man once named Boothill.
After a moment of silence, Boothill slowly spoke—though the subtitles no longer carried Boothill's name:
"I… don't quite understand what you're saying. But… you look pretty interesting. Nice to meet you, bro—what should I call you?"
"Yo—cultured guy?"
"Just a research ape. As for you… you'll soon be written into my research report. Dealing with the campus chaos is easy—the key has always been here, Reverie Reef. If not to eliminate a variable like you—I wouldn't have deliberately slowed down.
But now—this lesson is over too. Get moving, classmate. I'll wait for you at the finish line—to unveil a new chapter… for your life."