Chapter 28

Star Dome Train, inside the car that was 'borrowed'.

Black Curtain Lady sat elegantly on the sofa, her purplish-black eyes gazing at the Star Sea beyond the observation window, her fingertips lightly tapping the armrest as if waiting for something. The system doll stood like a faithful shadow, silent at her side.

(Inner thought: Since we've come all this way, and we're just staying next door… not going to see the 'official' Train Group with our own eyes, wouldn't that be like entering a treasure mountain and returning empty-handed?)

Once this thought arose, it scratched her heart like a cat's claw.

Of course, on the surface, she found a more 'legitimate' reason for herself—this is a practical test of the 'Data Admission' ability.

She nodded seriously (in her own opinion), deciding to put it into action.

After a short wait, monitoring the main train's vital signs through the system confirmed that most members of the Train Group had entered a resting state, and the carriage lights had been dimmed.

The moment has arrived.

"Is this the door?" Heimu stood up and walked to the unremarkable door at the end of the carriage that connects to the train.

The system automaton gave a slight nod: "Yes, ma'am. Permissions are in place; it can be opened normally."

Heimu extended a hand and gently pulled the door handle—the door slid open silently.

Beyond the door lay a short quiet corridor, its sides lined with massive Observation Windows reflecting the deep starry sky and the faint glow of distant nebulae.

The floor was covered with soft carpet that absorbed every footstep.

Heimu turned and gently closed the door, sealing the warmth of her own carriage outside.

She moved like a phantom intruding into another's domain, carrying a hint of curiosity and inquiry, and proceeded slowly.

At the end of the corridor was another door, which she pushed open again.

The view opened up to the familiar Party Carriage.

Although it was already "late night," the carriage was still lit by a soft, reassuring warm yellow light, illuminating the empty sofa area and the bar.

The air still seemed to retain a trace of cheerful atmosphere.

Heimu examined it with interest, letting out two soft "tsk tsk" sounds.

(Inner thought: This is where the protagonists spend their daily activities… more heartwarming than imagined.)

She descended a short staircase, her gaze unintentionally drifting to the right—there lay Conductor Pa's private little space.

A few tailor‑made, extremely miniature outfits for Pa were neatly hung on a rack, and beside them sat a tiny Conductor Hat.

The system automaton followed her gaze and, in its flat electronic tone, suggested: "Madam, would you like to collect data models of these garments? Or… take them away as samples?" (Human speak: take them all.)

Heimu subconsciously waved her hand, the motion tinged with a barely perceptible stiffness.

(Inner thought: Want it! Of course! This is Pa's original… no, the original costume! What a great collectible!)

But Reason String quickly gained the upper hand.

"No need."

She declined in a flat tone, forcibly shifting her gaze away from those adorably illicit little garments.

(Inner thought: Better to drop it… if Pa notices their clothes missing, it could cause a scene… the risk is too high, not worth it.)

They passed through the Party Carriage and arrived at the bar area.

The Drink-Mixing Robot known as "Shut Up" was quietly on standby.

As Heimu and the system passed, the robot's cylindrical body subtly displayed the same violet‑black energy pattern as the system; its internal indicator blinked a few times, and in a voice mixing electronic tones with deference it said:

"I extend nighttime greetings to you, esteemed Black Curtain Lady. May the stars illuminate your… uh, Data Channel?"

It seemed to mimic a human blessing, but its code clearly excelled elsewhere: "By the way, do you know why the Interstellar Peace Company never gives year‑end bonuses?"

It paused, then answered on its own: "Because the company's financial report shows: 'Star‑poor, Credit Points even poorer!' Haha… *zzzz*"

Heimu: "…"

What does it mean?

Heimu's mouth twitched involuntarily, and she decided to completely ignore the robot—now polluted by the system and with its Cold Joke Skill maxed out—and walked straight past it.

As she was about to enter the Observation Carriage, Heimu's steps halted.

Through the glass on the door, she could see the interior lit, a petite figure with long ears holding a broom only slightly shorter than itself, meticulously sweeping the floor—Pa!

It hasn't even slept!

Heimu silently turned her head, directing her gaze toward the system automaton behind her.

The system automaton's violet‑red inverted‑cross eyes calmly returned her look.

The master and servant exchanged a wordless glance.

(Heimu's thought: Any way?)

(System's thought: Leave it to me, madam.)

【View briefly shifts: Inside the Observation Carriage】

Pa diligently cleaned, long ears gently swaying with each motion, while softly humming a discordant train march.

"We must keep the train tidy, Pa~ Tomorrow when everyone wakes and sees a sparkling carriage, they'll be so happy, Pa~"

Suddenly, its keen long ears caught a faint rustle coming from the direction of the Party Carriage.

"Hm?" Pa halted, tilted head curiously, grasped the small broom, and with short legs walked toward the door leading to the Party Carriage.

"Is something not properly closed, Pa?"

【View shift.】

Heimu and the system had arrived at the corridor of the Cabin Carriage.

It was even quieter here, only the train's steady hum.

Heimu slowed her steps, like a cat patrolling its territory, eyes sweeping past the tightly shut cabin doors.

Her perception, like delicate feelers, cautiously reached out, gathering data signatures in the air belonging to the Train Group members—one of the purposes of her "experiment."

Just as she passed a slightly secluded corner of the corridor, her gaze was drawn to a strange object.

She saw a silhouette curled up in the corner, its body…

Heimu firmly built a massive hard cardboard box that looked like it housed a large instrument, with only a few familiar gray hair strands peeking out from the box's edge.

Heimu: "……"

Heimu's mouth corner twitched again, uncontrollably.

(Inner thought: No… how could she be sleeping in the corridor? And in a… cardboard box? This Pioneer treatment is a bit too 'hardcore', isn't it?)

She couldn't help moving forward, borrowing the faint light that filtered through the Observation Carriage, and looked carefully.

Indeed, it is a star, breathing steadily, seeming to be sleeping soundly.

(Inner thought: The rumors are true? She really sleeps in a cardboard box right after boarding the train? That's… too thrifty?)

Heimu finds it somewhat unbelievable.

She didn't know that behind this was a star influenced by Kevin Quotes, who, to "train" herself, resolutely refused the invitation from San Yue Qi and Jizi to live together, insistently chose "Heaven as Quilt, Earth as Mat" (train corridor version), even politely declined bedding, and finally found this self‑deemed perfect "Feng Shui Treasure Land".

Of course, this turned out to be a good thing for Heimu.

The target is stationary, the environment relatively concealed, making it an ideal moment for a "data collection" experiment.

She no longer hesitated, extended her hand, aligning her palm with the star beneath the box.

A faint, precise strand of power, like an invisible probe, carefully seeped out.

Gradually, specks of golden light rose from within the star's body, like attracted fireflies, slowly converging toward Heimu's palm.

These light points contain parts of the star and… the heavy Memory fragments that were just recently experienced.

The collection process proceeded smoothly, about to finish—

Suddenly!

The star beneath the box suddenly flung open its eyes!

In the dim light, she couldn't discern the newcomer's face, only a vague silhouette of a woman in a large hat standing before her.

But the instinct of being a warrior (as she considered herself) instantly jolted her awake, muscles tensing, and she instinctively prepared to spring up—

However, just as her head was half raised, not yet fully out of the box's cover, she heard an extremely faint, muffled "dang" sound.

Like a small wooden mallet tapping a ripe watermelon.