Chapter 742: NO．111：In the black night, the comet darts about

NO．111：In the black night, the comet darts about.

【Vega：Why reduce the training amount？】

【Yuehuanshe：One should maintain the pre‑race state rather than break limits; this ought to be common sense in this circle。】

【Vega：……Common sense, there will always be places where it doesn't apply, right？】

【Yuehuanshe：Indeed, but it doesn't apply here。】

【Vega：Even if the short‑distance championship is the first G1 after the reform？】

【Yuehuanshe：The special strategic value is undeniable, but that's all there is to it; compared with blind pursuit, one still needs to see the ground beneath one's feet before running wild, right？Vega Miss】

【Yuehuanshe：Vega Miss？】

【Yuehuanshe：Perhaps I should ask Ka Lian about your recent situation？】——15min ago.

No reply.

Not only was there no reply, but even the status indicator beside the avatar began to show busy.

From the still‑unstable chat log, Aimu Zhiji is no different from before, enough for Aomo to point and comment on his view of a certain goddess, then turn his gaze to the window where rain pours like a waterfall.

In weather perfect for picking up an amnesiac café owner on the street corner, Aomo still had to stride out, cursing, holding his samurai sword.

The samurai sword capable of serving as a giant umbrella panel was originally a shield, but of course it can also be used as an umbrella.

But if a certain electronic foster father saw it, he'd probably howl at the top of his lungs, then stare at him, watching him oil and maintain it.

Clearly this metal material needn't worry about rust, and with the air quality of this border‑gate area tonight—still clear enough to see stars—there's no need to consider acid‑rain‑level pollution.

But some people are just like that.

He lives frugally in daily life, yet splurges on in‑game purchases as if the game world were his true homeland.

Everyone has something they deem important; one might dote on a rakish vampire in everyday life, or lavish care on a heretical weapon in one's collection, even strictly observing obsolete maintenance rites.

Those unaware might think this is the unsealing ritual of some ancient source‑energy weapon.

Aomo feels this deserves respect, understanding, and blessing——in other words, it's none of my business, so I won't meddle.

But to keep Morrison. EXE's volume from getting too loud, he still glanced briefly at the light screen.

The electronic foster father didn't show up, but Sirius's 'challenge' messages came nonstop, reminiscent of when Bai Ren shouted for him to run, making him consider whether to file it under 'receive notifications but no alerts'.

Never mind; after all, she's a one‑on‑one customer service big sis, with some leeway in her standing at the Symbolic House.

Connections are that kind of accumulation that might come in handy someday.

But before that, let's look at the distant comet.

To be frank, Zhinü 1 is a flattened‑sphere star, its polar regions pale pink, its equatorial regions blue‑white, surface temperature hovering around 8900 ℃.

Compared with a comet—a icy‑mixed body—a cold celestial body is the opposite of what you'd expect.

But considering how Vega Miss usually speaks, along with the exclusive evolution skill she still commands—'Self‑Scorching Broom Star / Burnout Comet'—

Aomo can only say that certain people's illnesses haven't disappeared; merely the direction of onset has shifted.

Just as now, sprinting madly in a downpour isn't something a normal person could pull off, even with her sister helping to make a rain curtain.

No……what on earth did Chazuo teach those two sisters?

What would it look like to attach a shield‑as‑umbrella to the sister?

It's the picture of a huge light shield with oversized horse‑ears, advancing at the same speed as Aimu Zhiji.

Admittedly, one wouldn't see this without unleashing demonic power, but that's obviously not the point.

Aomo already looks like an old man on the subway with his phone.

Hey, you little brat……

Really, is the umbrella a super‑spirit now？

To be honest, even if your shield surface could extend downward to give the sister 360° rain protection, on this grass field soaked with rain it's not just 'heavy'—it's 'super‑heavy'——

A slight mistake at high speed could turn into needing several days of bed rest to recover.

Those days would still rely on the local orthopedics industry being well‑developed; if any psychological trauma remained, you'd also have to trouble the psychology department.

How did you convince your sister to do something so dangerous？

Holding the iron umbrella, Aomo descended the long stairs of the training ground, baffled by this.

Unlike the seemingly quiet but mischief‑loving elder sister, little sister San ought to be sensible, being lively……

At this moment he stood by the fence watching the flashing figure; the bright‑red sportswear was already half‑covered in mud, the sports trousers even more grim, constantly getting smeared then scraped off by the fierce airflow—a kind of gritty training, really.

Any clean‑loving girl would find this psychological torment hard to bear.

Yet that figure's face showed only a hint of resolute grit amid the difficulty; the violet eyes sweeping past at high speed were utterly unwavering, and even the subtle 'rain canopy' atop the head, together with the double‑ear gear worn opposite to the sister's single‑ear covers, stood straight upright.

It looks like fighting spirit soaring, showing a positive vitality utterly unlike the past's decline and self‑destructive will burning away.

But it seems the dry part is still the bodily‑on‑line activity.

He glanced at the numbers popping up on the training‑field system screen displaying the rain‑unhindered demo, then swiped lightly on the screen to sync the time, then looked up at the airflow constantly messing with his bangs, and flicked his left hand's sword‑finger.

The violent airflow then shifted toward the rear mountain forest.

He promptly slipped his left hand into his pocket, presenting an air of nothing happening, utter boredom, wasting time.

How could a shrine be disturbed by a typhoon, you say？

Nor did I expect this kid to think of training in a typhoon—it's not just a random spot he sketched——Aomo muttered in his heart that it was probably useless but would feel great as a draft, waiting for the girl to finish her dash and come jogging over.

"What are you here for？"

All right, still that tone of yours that meddles in everything, which always makes Aomo think, 'Hey, you little brat!'

But that only drags the conversation into the banal loop of 'explosive‑temper adult and stubborn‑temper child'.

The usual end of that loop is violent physical contact, which he can't accept, and it's also not the attitude Umastar takes toward Vega.

"I came to see who's braving the storm—turns out it's Vega Miss, whose body easily deteriorates." He finally spoke calmly.

Then he looked up at the now flatter figure, straining to cover his own head, little sister San: 'I didn't expect you to drag your sister into this "great undertaking".'

And they shook their still damp ears, which could shake out water, their tone as flat as their warmth‑less gaze.

"You can put it away now, little sister," she said, walking up to Aomo under the iron umbrella and looking up at him, "You've finished running; you can go back."

The same kind of close‑up, bottom‑to‑top gaze—Zhen Jiling could see a hint of 'Quick, praise me for being cute,' while Xin Tiaoqi showed a 'Want to give it a touch?' trap, but Aimu Zhiji was different; it was a 'Why aren't you leaving yet?' urging.

It simply skips over everything before, dragging the progress bar to make you play now.

Compared among the three, it's like after you finish being a commander in the Gray Ravens, you go to the wilderness and a feral asks, 'Why are you still here?'—that gap, short for 'CloGap,' can make someone with a bad temper explode instantly, while even someone with a good temper still feels that familiar feedback.

Hey, you little brat!

Aomo had begun to suspect this was some deliberate design retaliation, and given the suddenness and the fact that Aimu Zhiji herself lacked this kind of aggressiveness, the one who likely provided the idea was……

"You don't need to accompany Miss Sirius in her mischief," he said flatly, watching surprise rise in the other's eyes.

"Not entirely; I really do want to run once—running once would let me know my current state, right?"

She pointed to the training-field projection system behind her that was on standby but not yet fully shut down, and its timer values were also synchronized on Aomo's own visible light screen.

"In this kind of grass field and weather?"

"This September Boundary Gate racecourse has long been this kind of grass field and weather."

"No, at least there won't be those kinds of wild winds……"

He pointed to the airflow in the distant woods that had already formed a tornado prototype, then turned back to see her dirty sportswear, sighed, and placed his left hand on her shoulder: "Forget it, let's go back and change clothes—we can't stand here talking."

But that very motion made her instantly grab Aomo's wrist, trying to pull it away but failing; in that brief stalemate, she jerked her hand back like a needle prick, lowered her head, and squeezed out a sound from between her teeth:

"There's mud."

"……"

Although the extremely aloof Miss Vega was already acting out of character, this reaction was even more out of character……

Aomo had considered raising a hand to cover her forehead, but with one hand holding the umbrella and the other pressing on the mud, he couldn't free another.

So he simply kept his hand on her shoulder and said calmly:

"It's fine."

Immediately, amidst the disintegrating blocks, he gave Aimu Zhiji the experience of her first transmission.