Chapter 102: March 7th, You Wouldn't Want Me to Tell, Would You?
"Oh? Research?" Stelle crossed her arms, leveling March 7th with a look that screamed, Oh, please, keep digging that hole deeper. She wasn't buying a single word.
"Yes, yes, yes! Research!" March 7th nodded so vigorously her spiritual form blurred into a series of afterimages. "See! I successfully got in, didn't I? This proves that dream-walking is feasible! What a monumental discovery!" she declared, desperately trying to change the subject.
Stelle's face remained a perfect deadpan. "And this 'monumental discovery' involved replacing my sword with a giant, glowing flashlight, stealing my dramatic entrance, and then scaring me so badly I ran for my life? Is that the gist of it?" she asked, delivering the three-part accusation with devastating calm.
"Uh… well…" March 7th's frantic defense ground to a halt, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Those… those were all… necessary trials during the experimental phase! Yes! And it also allowed me to observe your dream reaction mechanisms!"
She argued brazenly, then immediately switched tactics, clasping her hands together and putting on her most sincere, puppy-dog expression. "I'm so sorry, Stelle! I promise next time… uh… I'll try not to play any pranks! You're the most magnanimous person in the universe! The most generous! Right?"
To seal Stelle's lips, she reluctantly bestowed upon her the grand title of "Most Generous in the Universe."
Stelle watched the pitiful display, seeing March struggle so hard to justify her mischief, and she almost couldn't suppress a laugh. Her eyes darted about as the gears in her mind began to turn, the clattering of her mental abacus practically audible.
Telling on her? There wasn't much of a tangible reward in that. But…
"Hm, hm…" Stelle cleared her throat, feigning reluctance. "Considering your sincere attitude in admitting your mistake… and the fact you were conducting 'legitimate' research… I suppose I can let it slide this one time."
"Really? That's great!" March 7th looked as if she'd just received a presidential pardon.
"However…" Stelle's tone shifted, a sly grin spreading across her face. She leaned in closer to March 7th's translucent form. "As hush money, and compensation for my emotional distress… you have to promise me one little thing."
"What condition?" March 7th asked, her guard immediately back up.
"It's simple!" Stelle's smile was that of a cat who had just cornered a canary. "When you have some free time, you have to let me try an out-of-body experience, too! I want to try entering someone's dream!"
Her eyes lit up with excitement at the novel idea. "To… hmm… for example, see what kind of dreams our ever-reliable Mr. Dan Heng is having every day!"
"Ah? This…" March 7th hesitated.
Seeing her waver, Stelle delivered the finishing blow, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "March 7th, you wouldn't want Mr. Yang and the others to find out about you entering people's dreams without permission, would you?"
With her weakness so expertly exploited, March 7th had no choice but to surrender. "…Alright, alright! It's a deal! But you have to promise not to mess around!"
At the same time, she offered a silent apology in her heart. 'Mr. Dan Heng, I'm so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.'
"Don't worry, don't worry! I'm the most generous person in the universe, remember?" Stelle immediately puffed out her chest, proudly throwing the title right back at her.
With their "dirty deal" struck, Stelle decided that since March 7th could manipulate her dream, the most practical course of action was to make it a good one. She immediately began pestering March to help construct the dreamscape she truly desired.
And so, March 7th watched as Stelle, in a newly reconstructed "Trash Can Kingdom," excitedly presented the "Annual Best Bin Award" to a row of glittering, gilded trash cans. Having fulfilled her end of the bargain, March finally breathed a sigh of relief and prepared to make a graceful exit.
Just as she was about to depart, however, she felt a powerful, invisible force pushing back against her.
"What's going on?! Is there interference from outside?!" March 7th barely got the words out before the dreamscape before her shattered like a broken mirror.
"Whoa—!" With a startled cry, March 7th's spiritual form was shoved violently by an unseen hand. She tumbled uncontrollably through the air of Stelle's room before finally managing to stabilize herself.
She shook her slightly dizzy head, took in the quiet surroundings, and then stared blankly at the bed.
"What happened?" March 7th floated closer, circling the sleeping Stelle twice in utter confusion.
"Why did it suddenly kick me out? Does this dream have some kind of automatic defense mechanism? Then why didn't it trigger before?" She was completely baffled.
But soon, a hopeful thought bubbled up like a delicate soap bubble. 'Wait! Stelle hasn't woken up! And look how soundly she's sleeping… Don't dream memories get blurry really fast after you wake up? Especially the really bizarre ones…'Thinking of her own "great demon king" performance and the "unequal treaty" Stelle had just forced upon her, March 7th's heart began to beat a little faster.'Maybe… maybe when she wakes up, all she'll remember is her wonderful dream of being the queen of the Trash Can Kingdom, and she'll forget all the embarrassing stuff that happened before!'The thought allowed her frayed nerves to relax just a little.'That's good, too… Dan Heng will be spared an unwarranted disaster…' She couldn't help but imagine the cracks that might appear on Dan Heng's perpetually stoic face if Stelle ever managed to invade his dreams, and a strange mix of amusement and guilt washed over her.
However, her tiny flame of hope was extinguished with a sudden "poof" by the scene unfolding before her.
On the bed, Stelle sat bolt upright without a single warning.
March 7th's spiritual body froze instantly, so startled she almost phased directly through the wall to flee back to her own room.
'It's over, it's over! She's awake! She's definitely going to bring up the conditions! My Sheep Talisman experience lesson! Dan Heng's peace and quiet!'
But Stelle's movements were unusually sluggish.
Her eyes were hazy as she sat blankly for a few seconds. Then, like a sleepwalker, she slowly climbed out of bed, shuffled over to the table, picked up a glass of water, and began to gulp it down.
The entire process was fluid, yet carried a strange, not-quite-awake languor.
March 7th held her breath, observing nervously.
After finishing the water, Stelle smacked her lips, her eyes still unfocused and distant.
She put down the glass, and then, slowly, very naturally… she climbed back into bed. She pulled the covers over her head, wrapped herself into a tight ball, and a few seconds later, the sound of even breathing resumed.
She… fell asleep again?
March 7th: "..."
The heart that had been lodged in her throat dropped back into place with a heavy thump. A wave of immense relief washed over her, followed by a much more complex, contradictory feeling.
"That was close… It seems she really didn't wake up completely, just sleepwalking to get a drink," March 7th sighed.
"So… she might really not remember our 'agreement'? Dan Heng is safe!" This was, without a doubt, fantastic news.
But immediately after came an indescribable sense of loss.
'Then… what about my dream-walking experiment? I worked so hard to sneak in, got treated like a villain, and almost got blackmailed in return… only for the experimental subject to forget the whole thing?''Then what's the point of this ability? Can I only be a flying ghost, spectating on the Astral Express? The Sheep Talisman is a blue-tier item, at least! Is it really this useless in my hands?'
Could the entire matter of dream-walking really end so abruptly, in such a comically anticlimactic way?
March 7th looked at Stelle's face, once again lost in peaceful slumber, her own pink and blue eyes filled with confusion and a deep sense of unwillingness.
Meanwhile, at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor in Liyue Harbor…
"Esteemed guest—!"
Hu Tao's drawn-out, melodious voice, laced with a clear note of displeasure, echoed through the halls of the funeral parlor.
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