Chapter 536: NO．119：Watching the numbers rise is also happy

NO．119：Watching the numbers rise is also happy.

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A certain super agent's message kept the light screen from dimming, while Aomo merely lowered his eyes and played with the box in his hand.

By the way, soothe that loud-voiced friend whose volume even made the maid robot turn its head again: 'Watch out for neighbor complaints about disturbing the peace.'

Redefine soothing.

But Bi Ze did indeed quiet down.

He even ran to the door, greeted the robot again to continue resting, then timidly shuffled back to Aomo's side.

"... This is your championship trophy..."

"You can tell."

Flip it over slightly, and the characters in front will appear.

The championship trophy of the Thirty‑Third Annual Dark Villain System Top 10——which should have been eye‑catching, but lately it seems to have become increasingly meaningless.

"So can I open it?"

Aomo asked calmly, but Bi Ze was still nervous.

"Um, of course, feel free."

If this guy were a horse girl, even his tail would probably be swaying left and right nervously.

Aomo glanced at him, then sighed at his own overly trainer‑like mindset.

"Don't stand in front of me making that face like you broke something of mine—it's nothing like you; show some alien demeanor."

"Huh? What kind?"

"Like a toffee‑star person," Aomo, having opened the package, examined the moonstone locked by obsidian, and continued calmly, "Do you remember when we first met?"

"Um… kind of hard to look back on, that time."

"The operation really is a hassle; just bring back that old enthusiasm will do. Tell me about the New Universe, the New Universe…" Aomo chewed on that name, then looked up, "What was its original name? The official international registration name."

"Um… let me think," Bi Ze said, pondering a bit, "It's neouniverse."

This drew Aomo's retort: "You're not an East Flame person, are you? Why does your pronunciation have that extreme‑eastern weird flavor?"

"Um…" Having his nationality questioned, Bi Ze wanted to shout a rebuttal, but couldn't deny his pronunciation outright, so he could only stammer, "I was playing cards."

That was a convincing excuse; Aomo immediately accepted it and nodded.

「neouniverse…universe ah...... 」

He chuckled, recalled a song, then immediately asked him: "Did it beat the Desert Hero?"

"I think it won a match, hold on, I'll look it up." In any case, unlike Aomo who can directly pull up memory files, Bi Ze said and rushed to the computer.

Searching the battle records of otherworldly horse racing sounds a bit far‑fetched, but as long as you consider the information sharing among the transmigrator circle, it's not a problem.

He picked up the trophy, rose, walked to the bedside beside Bi Ze's computer and sat down; Aomo watched his search jump.

"Got it! 2003, Japan Derby!" Bi Ze turned his head, saw Aomo also looking at the screen, then turned back again, scrolling through the horse's data: "Old rival Sakura President, the Desert Hero with four wins out of five, this seems to have set some record… oh! It was also the first time a foreign jockey took the Japan Derby… a foreign jockey…?"

He suddenly turned his head, looking at the Berde youth still gazing at the screen, whose non‑Eastern facial features bore a pair of eyes focused on the data.

You're overthinking it…

He turned his head back.

Trainers are supposedly reflections of otherworldly horsemen…… This idea has been floated before, but mostly in games; when applied to this world's reality, although some have proposed the theory and there are even a few actual examples, it hasn't gained wide acceptance.

More trainers are living counterexamples.

Just like his trainer‑brother, who has three horse girls under him, the three corresponding horse‑racing jockeys are also incompatible.

He couldn't very well say Aomo is some kind of Trinity Fusion Monster……

Thinking that, he slightly dragged the vertical progress bar on the page, so the 'Trinity Fusion Monster' could tentatively view the remaining content.

Bi Ze is just a mobile‑game player.

Although he once enjoyed the feeling of being imprisoned in the horse‑girl game, his understanding of real horse racing mostly comes from the mobile game's prototype.

The rest relies on the cloud.

Just like players of warship‑girl or gun‑girl mobile games who pick up some knowledge of warships and firearms, and if something interests them they might look it up further, thereby gaining extra trivia to talk about.

Bi Ze has indeed looked into quite a bit, with the rest filled in by the cloud!

And the reason he remembers the name New Universe is because, not long ago, someone on the forum mentioned via the cloud that the mobile game would implement this horse girl.

It's said that the Desert Hero also appears in the cultivation storyline, giving Bi Ze the impression of a link between the two.

And now……

"Are you sure it's that? I heard the horse‑girl game back home is about to release her."

With the progress bar pulled to the bottom, there's not much to say about a single race; it'd be better to check some transmigrator‑maintained horse‑racing wiki.

Bi Ze turned his head and saw Aomo, who had lowered his head again to look at the trophy.

Seeing that move made him feel guilty, and he shrank his head further.

But Aomo's face long failed to show the 'death sentence' he was waiting for.

Under that calm expression that seemed able to hide all his thoughts, even his gaze lacked its usual sharpness.

It seems a bit strange, this brother's state…… Even an alien youngster could sense Aomo's subtle condition, then watched him slowly lift the trophy's base.

Is this trophy's impact on him really that big? He wondered unconsciously.

"Seven‑tenths probability, the remaining three‑tenths from you giving me her data in the horse‑girl game,"

"What?"

Aomo suddenly answered at this point, and Bi Ze couldn't react in time.

"The horse girl I'm looking for has a seventy percent chance of being her; if you can provide New Universe as reference data for the horse girl, you might fill in the remaining thirty percent." The demon replied without lifting his head.

Examining the maker's signature at the very bottom of the base, Aomo also wondered whether he had guessed wrong.

specter/ghosts and monsters

Such a signature is somewhat boundless, not like someone one would actually know.

But the trophy's design, oddly, captures some of its essence.

The pitch-black viper coils around the lustrous moon, seeming to firmly control the central moonlight, yet it appears to lock the crescent's light, preventing it from scattering away.

The moon does not emit light; it only reflects surrounding light, like the moonlight on moonstone, which is likewise the result of distorted incoming light.

It has always been others' light; if not locked, it will flow away.

So‑called brilliant gems have always been containers of light.

Retaining and working the light is equivalent to pouring value into it.

That value is shaped by desire.

The viper carved from obsidian is black to the point of purple, faintly variegated—this is the embodiment of desire.

Breaking the container, extending the coiled desire, and locking in the reflected light—that is extreme self‑control.

It feels oppressive to behold, yet it does not provoke hostility.

Because it represents an extreme yet non‑dangerous self.

Aomo couldn't help wondering who had carved this sculpture, who had chiseled it.

Compared to the craft itself, he feels a greater astonishment at being completely analyzed.

Always observing and analyzing others, he finally has a day when their positions are swapped.

But perhaps this is also an unavoidable part of being a public figure.

Being noticed, understood, even having one's image and self analyzed—usually it's peers doing so, for example, a celebrated horse girl will have her running style analyzed by other horse girls and trainers.

It is precisely because they oppose each other that they probe and understand each other so deeply.

Besides that, there are also some overly fervent fans who, from a pure observational angle, dissect and summarize everything about you.

And setting aside those two possibilities, there also exists a third.

—Acquaintance

An acquaintance who simply knows you and has some understanding of you.

Merely, a signature like 'specter/ghosts and monsters' is too vague; his first thought was actually Chazuo, this time Zhouri Ningjing, and then some unclear classmates or online friends.

Who among those who have openly or covertly shown interest in spirit‑calling or necromancy possesses this technique?

He had no clue where to start, feeling that investigating and verifying would be more troublesome than the task at hand.

Yes, even now he still feels that investigating and verifying the commission for the Desert Hero is troublesome.

The reason is just as Bi Ze asked after he finished speaking:

"Twenty percent? Who are you keeping the remaining ten percent for?"

"Aren't there many similars among racehorses? Just going by names." Aomo raised his head, spoke calmly, and walked out of that reverie.

Although horse names in racing are never lacking in flights of fancy, with thousands entering selection each year… full names don't repeat, but overlapping components are quite normal.

For instance, a racehorse whose name contains the word 'universe' might also be related to some astronomical speaking habits.

Aomo still guarded against the lowest possibility, patted Bi Ze on the shoulder, and said: "Still give me that list you mentioned at the start, then the data on that new universe, and also send me a copy."

"? You want to work me to death?"

"I heard you're quite free."

"I've already lined up interviews for three jobs! How can you say 'summer job'—it's a summer job!"

The older high school student speaks with conviction; being already an adult truly gives great freedom in job choice—this guy has been loafing through university in his hometown world, and now barely scraping by in high school here.

But when Aomo raised his hand to point at the discarded package on the ground and asked, "Then let's talk about this voting matter?"

The other party immediately exclaimed: "Fine, fine, fine, I'll list it, I'll list it!"

This reaction inevitably made Aomo chuckle.

He recalled some memories from when he was still in school.

"From now on I won't bother you either; I'll take the trophy with me—no problem, right?"

"Of course no problem, right!"

Bi Ze suddenly recalled something and shouted; turning his head, he saw Aomo also looking back. When their eyes met, his voice dropped a bit, yet he still mustered the courage to ask:

"Did you turn on Do Not Disturb and not check your email or something? The organizers want to contact you to discuss merchandise…"

"Can I refuse?"

"They'll still send you the prize money, after all—this vote is quite large."

"What are they called?"