Chapter 179: Welt Yang Is a Figure of Note
The Astral Express sitting before them was dilapidated—extremely so. Plumes of acrid black smoke hissed from its battered chassis, and the metal groaned in protest.
But as this battered locomotive emerged from the void, Misha's wide eyes gradually lit up. Confused, fragmented memories seemed to awaken within his mind, piecing themselves together through the haze.
Right, this is called...
"The Astral Express! I remember now!... Grandpa Mikhail mentioned the Astral Express!" Misha exclaimed, his voice trembling with sudden clarity.
"Yes, this is the Astral Express," Rekka replied casually.
"Where did you get an Astral Express?" March 7th stared at the smoking wreck, utterly astonished.
"I assembled it."
"You assembled it? When?"
"Nanook and I assembled the Astral Express together."
"What the heck? This thing can even be considered a miracle of Destruction?!" Sparkle's eyes widened to the size of saucers. Without a second thought, she lunged forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Rekka's leg.
"Please, Onegai, Watashi..." she babbled, her chaotic facade breaking into desperate awe. "When it comes to finding fun, I—the Masked Fools—can't compare to you at all... Your Purity of Elation is simply too high! Please teach me your ways!"
Rekka looked down at the diminutive Fool clinging to his calf. He remained completely silent for two seconds.
Ignored.
Although the train's exterior was a battered mess, venting dark smoke from its seams, it was undeniably a complete, functioning Astral Express.
"On the burning land, Nanook and I pieced together this train," Rekka elaborated, as if discussing a weekend DIY project.
"Let me think," March tapped her chin. "Uncle Yang seemed to have used a black hole to control Nanook back then, and his staff just exploded!"
Gallagher stood off to the side, staring at the group in utter silence. A muscle twitched in his jaw.
"That Uncle Yang you mentioned is quite a character," the hound finally muttered, taking a long drag from his invisible patience.
"Of course," Rekka nodded.
Welt Yang is a figure of note.
He elbowed the Herrscher of the Void, elbowed Kevin, elbowed the Aeon of Destruction—his achievements are highly verifiable. Your Uncle Yang never plays low-level games.
And what exactly was Mr. Welt doing at this moment?
"Miss Acheron," Welt's deep, measured voice cut through the tension. "Someone claims you are the true culprit of a murder case. The Annihilation Gang who came to the banquet also died tragically by your blade, and now, you are attempting to stir up another bloody storm in Penacony."
Acheron remained composed, her posture relaxed but guarded. "There are quite a few suspicious characters who arrived by invitation. Do they truly believe that a long blade in my hand is more dangerous than a black hole in yours?"
Welt's eyes narrowed slightly behind his glasses. "Very keen intuition. Even the Family couldn't discern the true nature of this staff. So please, reveal your true form and state your intentions. Otherwise, I will have to prepare you for being torn apart by gravity."
Although Welt was slightly surprised to cross paths with Acheron, it wasn't outside the world of his expectations. The galaxy is an Imaginary Tree, and the isolated star systems are individual leaves. Therefore, only Aeons who directly obtain energy from the Imaginary Tree, and Emanators blessed by those Aeons, can traverse the imaginary energy-filled void for interstellar travel. This is precisely why every planet that gives birth to civilization shares so many similarities, and why the people inhabiting these worlds bear such striking resemblances.
Meanwhile, deep within Dreamflux Reef, Misha sat quietly aboard the smoking train. The cabin was tattered, yet it radiated a strange, overwhelming sense of familiarity—so familiar that it made his eyes sting with unshed tears.
The Astral Express...
Right, the Astral Express.
Vague, fractured memories slotted back into place. Next, it was time to guide Misha back into the dream bubble.
"I'm truly out of ideas. You Trailblazers really surprise me at every turn," Gallagher sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in helpless resignation.
"There's nothing we can do," Stelle replied, her tone perfectly flat. "When we snuck in, we landed directly in front of Senior Mikhail. I think this is the guidance of Trailblaze."
"Alright," Gallagher conceded.
Misha stood before the dream bubble, gently resting his hand against the Memory sphere. His eyes seemed to gradually brighten, shedding their youthful naivety. After a long, quiet moment, he finally raised his head.
"What a big dream I had." He looked down at his current, youthful hands, a wry, exasperated smile touching his lips. "Sigh, where should I begin? Gallagher, what do you say?"
"Old man, start from the very beginning," the hound replied softly.
"Sigh, alright." Misha's expression was complex, caught between two lifetimes, but he began his introduction anew.
"I was born on the planet Rusalka in the Przemyśl star system, the adopted son of Mr. Mikhail, the navigator, and Mrs. Char. My name is Mikhail Char Legwork, or the more concise nickname, Misha. If you wish, it is also acceptable to call me by the name people are more familiar with—the Watchmaker."
"Reasonable," Rekka nodded.
"No, why was I kept in the dark?!" March 7th threw her hands up, utterly blindsided.
This time, Stelle and March had undergone a complete role reversal.
This was equilibrium. Everyone takes turns being shocked, it seems.
"What a dramatic twist," Sparkle giggled, rubbing her hands together in sheer delight.
Little Blue Light just blinked, floating nearby. It didn't understand a thing.
"So... you are the Watchmaker himself?" March asked, still processing.
"That's right. Because I heard the whistle of the Astral Express, this memory somehow escaped from the dream bubble, making everyone laugh." Misha's voice carried a strange, echoing resonance—an overlap of a weary old man and an energetic youth. "The juniors of the Astral Express are truly extraordinary, each and every one of them."
After a moment of silence, Misha scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
"You all... I don't know what to say. Originally, this memory was supposed to disappear after I finished speaking, but... now, I've become a Memory Spirit. Not only am I visible to others, but I'm also unable to disappear..."
"Ahem, old man, isn't this all a gift from your good juniors?" Gallagher raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk playing on his lips. "Be happy."
"Yes, I really like this gift." Misha's gaze swept over the dilapidated, smoking train, eventually landing on Rekka. "You built an Astral Express."
"It was pieced together," Rekka corrected casually. "Pieced together with Nanook."
"Pieced together an Astral Express with Nanook," Misha repeated slowly, a look of deep relief and amusement washing over his face. "...Should I say the younger generation is formidable, or that young people have a pioneering spirit?"
"Either is fine," Rekka shrugged.
"Senior Mikhail, what about this? What is this?" Stelle stepped forward and summoned Clockie, whom Rekka had physically shaped into a Memory Spirit just yesterday.
Clockie floated up, looking at the boy. "Misha! You seem very happy."
"Clockie..."
Misha squatted down, gently reaching out to touch the little fellow with the clock on its head. Clockie looked back with wide, round eyes, its tiny hands ticking away happily.
"It is the motivation for Trailblaze in my heart," Misha said softly. "You are called Stelle, right? How about I teach you a small ability? It's just a little Clockwork from this old man. People will feel lost, and at some point, they will also make up their minds and make a bold but remarkable decision... Whether it's calm, joyful, angry, or sad, all they need is a small push, and then they can take steps forward towards their own future."
Clockie bounced cheerfully onto Stelle's shoulder.
Clockwork be like.
"Thank you, Senior. I've learned it," Stelle nodded, accepting the weight of the technique.
"This hat suits you very well, Stelle," Misha smiled warmly. "Mr. Granholm gave me the hat, and now, I'm giving this hat to you."
[Inorin's Note:
Enjoying the story? Dropping a quick review, comment, or Power Stone means the world to me and keeps these daily updates flowing!
Want to read 50 chapters ahead or just want to help keep a shameless translator alive? (My livelihood actually depends on this, haha 😭). You can support me directly here:
(P.S. Just remove the brackets and replace the [.] with a regular dot . to use the links!)
✨ Patreon (50 Advanced Chapters): patreon[.]com/InorinTL
☕ Ko-fi (Support / Sponsor): ko-fi[.]com/InorinTL
Thank you so much for reading and keeping this project alive!]