"Oh? Hehe, it seems you are quite knowledgeable about our whereabouts."
Himeko chuckled softly, her gaze sharp as she stared at the masked merchant, as if trying to see through the mask to his very essence.
"Miss Himeko, please believe in my sincerity. Although this is quite sudden, I must make it clear to you all: I am indeed aware of your movements. And I also know another thing…"
Tipping the brim of his hat, the masked merchant looked up.
"Punklorde's time… is running out."
His words were brief and soft, yet they set off a tidal wave within the Express crew.
"What do you mean? What do you mean Punklorde's time is running out?"
Himeko frowned, questioning the masked merchant before her.
"Hehehe… All of this… you will only understand when you see it for yourselves…"
His laughter was just as gentle, but it sounded somewhat piercing.
Punklorde. Inside the Legendary Tower.
"Yo? How is an old bastard like you alive too?" a phantom figure asked another figure beside him in surprise.
"Alive my a*! (Punklorde dialect) Damn it, our cartridges are being controlled by something! We've become someone's fcking final bosses now!"
The cursing figure decisively kicked the other phantom, his expression extremely grim as he looked behind him. The Stellaron… was floating quietly nearby.
They were the Legends who once stood at the pinnacle of Punklorde. But now… they were merely ghosts, reawakened by the Stellaron's power.
However, it was clear they weren't the first to awaken.
"Mm, as I thought. You two have woken up as well."
A white-bearded old man stood at the entrance of the collection room. He looked at the two bickering figures and shook his head.
"F*ck! Quit your damn fighting!"
The first phantom, originally ethereal, solidified. He turned and kicked back at the cursing figure, then walked over to the old man's side in disbelief, his form trembling and his tone filled with rage.
"What the hell! Old master! You're alive too!"
"Fck, you're the one seeing a ghost! I'm the one seeing a fcking ghost! I've been dead for centuries, and the first thing I see when I open my eyes is an unfilial whelp like you!"
The moment the white-bearded old man saw that phantom, he immediately threw his cane at him, grinding his teeth as he pointed and cursed.
Damn it, of all the kids in the entire family, this was the one who was always at odds with his old man. How did even he qualify to be interred here after death? Did everyone on Punklorde get their brains kicked in by a mechanical donkey?
"No, no! Great-grandpa! I was young and foolish back then! After you died, I was your only heir!"
The phantom who got hit instantly ducked and covered his head, looking aggrieved as he spoke to the fuming old man before him.
"Bullsht! The first thing I did after coming back to life was hack into the information database here! After I died, not only did you upload your own consciousness into dataspace to pursue some damn [Mechanical Ascension], you also fcking ran the entire family into the ground, didn't you!"
With a wave of the old man's hand, streams of data solidified, then wrapped around the "unfilial descendant's" legs. The old man's stooped body, which had needed a cane for support, instantly straightened. His simple white robe slowly faded away, revealing gnarled muscles beneath. His thick arms grabbed the "data chains" binding his descendant, and he began swinging and smashing him around the room like a hammer throw.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
"Ugh…"
Looking at the old senior and his former friend, who he had been on relatively good terms with, the cursing figure silently turned his head away, unwilling to watch such a brutal scene.
"Aaaah! Great-grandpa! I really didn't mean to! I've been framed!"
The unfilial descendant screamed, but he didn't have the slightest thought of fighting back. Because…
Standing before him was the fifth most renowned legendary hacker of Punklorde, the legend who single-handedly pioneered the so-called "Physical Hacking." He had once personally used an ether-teleportation to smash a rival company's network base station and then ripped out the main power supply, protected by special steel materials, with his bare hands, becoming famous in a single battle!
He was given the nickname "Sage Hacker"!
He had opened the door to a new world for the hackers of Punklorde, who had previously only known how to rely on network intrusions!
And his great-grandson was the sixth legend, ranked right below him. However, due to his weak personality and frail body, he walked a path completely opposite to his great-grandfather's. He had originally wanted to achieve Mechanical Ascension, but ultimately decided it was more reliable to become a data lifeform, free from worldly strife. However, just after he connected himself to the network, he encountered a rare planet-wide blackout on Punklorde. Although he was well-prepared, he ended up trapped in the network world, unable to return to his body.
"Sigh…"
"What are you sighing for, kid? I looked up your file. You're the one who helped out when our family was on the verge of collapse, right? The only right thing this little brat ever did in his life was befriending you. What a pity, though, you died so young…" the Sage Hacker said to the cursing man with great emotion.
He had a limitless future, yet he was pushed out and driven to his death by those bastards from the Punklorde Council…
"Senior, that's all in the past."
The cursing man shook his head, unconcerned. What happened back then was over. But he still hadn't figured out the current situation. That Stellaron… it seemed to be constantly tempting him, wanting them to use Aether Editing together to forcibly alter Punklorde's reality data, and in doing so, directly destroy the entire planet…
"You must have heard that voice too. Regrettably, we cannot stop what it's doing."
The Sage Hacker shook his head, his old face filled with sorrow.
"The time hasn't come yet. But when it does, it will forcibly control us to edit Punklorde. Far, far too many of us have awoken…"
The power of a single hacker was limited, but how could a legendary hacker be the same as an ordinary one? Hundreds of legends, all using Aether Editing for a single purpose, and amplified by the power of this thing… The crisis of Punklorde had truly arrived…
"Great-grandpa, I…"
The unfilial descendant was about to say something, but his body suddenly stiffened. It was as if he had lost his mind in an instant. Beside him, the "Sage Hacker" and the cursing man fell into the same state.
Their bodies rigid, they approached the [Stellaron] like walking corpses and began opening their respective data streams to edit…