Advice from the Stellaron Hunters

"Thank you for your guidance, Mr. Screwllum," Jingxing said. "I will add Ismael to the plan."

"Organic life is far less efficient at learning than inorganic life, but organic life relies on books and teachers to pass on civilization from generation to generation," Screwllum nodded slightly, then turned to look at the painting again. "I look forward to seeing Mr. Jingxing's name among the final items at the Thousand Stars City auction house someday."

He put on his top hat, picked up his gloves, and stopped at the cabin door.

"Ms. Herta," he said without turning around, "I suggest you upgrade the conservation measures for this painting to a higher level. Don't wait until you need it to discover that it has been vandalized without your knowledge."

"I don't need you to teach me." Herta curled his lip.

Ke Jingxing noticed that the first thing she did after Screwllum left was to have the staff raise the security measures for the painting even higher.

We left the space station on the morning of the third day.

The ship, Chasing the Moon docked at its berth, had its silver-gray hull gilded with light. Jingxing carried the luggage onto the ship and installed the astrolabe given to him by Asta next to the bridge, its surface shimmering with light. Ismael's position was already marked on the route map, a pale golden line pointing from the Herta Space Station into the depths of the Milky Way.

"Are you in such a hurry to leave?" Asta seemed a little regretful when she came to see him off. "If Mr. Jingxing had waited two more days, the famous Astral Express would have come here to resupply. Perhaps Mr. Jingxing could have traveled with them."

"No, thank you." Jingxing shook his head. "Mr. Screwllum has already given me a feasible destination."

Of course, he had another concern—would boarding the Astral Express be seen as a betrayal of Beauty? After all, compared to his hometown, the Astral Express was the most orthodox path to Trailblaze Path.

Before takeoff, he sketched the astrolabe for a while. The Mist-Ring Star, perpetually shrouded in ring-shaped clouds, had only half the gravity of the Azure Star; its floating islands looked like grains of rice scattered in porridge. Mirror Lake, an entire planet almost entirely liquid, reflected countless layers of sunlight on its surface. The Heart of Ashes, a planet where civilization had been burned to ashes, still bore the unfinished, thousand-meter-tall statue standing amidst its ruins...

"The Milky Way is truly amazing; it has all kinds of stars." Jingxing exclaimed as he got into the driver's seat. Before setting off, he took one last look out the window; Mount Herta still towered high into the clouds.

Then he pulled the jump lever.

Buzz.

The ship shuddered, and the starlight outside the porthole stretched into a line before abruptly receding. Thanks to the Astral Express's Star Rail trails, the first jump was about to succeed.

Just as Jingxing was about to breathe a sigh of relief, everything suddenly went dark.

One by one, the lights went out, the data on the control panel rapidly returned to zero, and the asterisk's light patterns stopped, like a pool of frozen, stagnant water.

The surroundings were so quiet you could almost hear your own heartbeat. The Chasing the Moon hadn't gone out of control, no alarms had sounded—it had simply stopped, as if something had reached out during the jump and gripped the entire ship in place.

Even inertia stopped. The starlight, stretched into lines outside the porthole, remained frozen, neither advancing nor retreating.

Jingxing pulled out the Cloud-Washing Ink-Tracer from the sachet and then channeled the Path Energy along his arm to his fingertips. Whether it was a space pirate or some bastard who Path of Destruction, he was ready for battle.

The next second, the hatch clicked open.

A woman stood outside the door. She had purple hair and wore a black coat. She leaned against the door frame, her posture as casual as if she were waiting for a late train.

Those purple eyes held a calm smile; despite being an uninvited guest, they didn't exude any hostility.

A black cat crouched at her feet. It was completely black, its vertical pupils fixed on Jingxing, its tail slowly sweeping the floor.

"Good morning," the woman said, her voice soft and gentle. "Or should I say, it's been a while?"

"... Kafka." Jingxing recognized the woman in front of him.

The words "Stellaron Hunters" rolled through my mind. It had been several months since we last met at Vesna IV.

Although he would always miss the time he spent alone with the Robin, it was this infamous fugitive in front of him who had started that period of his life.

"I didn't expect you to recognize me." Kafka tilted her head, seemingly pleased. "That saves me the trouble of introducing myself."

She didn't go into the cabin; she just leaned against the door frame and continued talking to herself.

"I heard Miss Robin's performance at the Vesna IV concert from outside the city," she said suddenly, as if chatting. "Well... it may sound like boasting, but we Stellaron Hunters deserve credit for Miss Robin's singing being able to resonate throughout Vesna IV. So I hope you don't see us as your enemies."

Jingxing's fingertips tightened slightly. To be honest, he did have some doubts about the Robin's performance. He hadn't felt it before he wasn't Pathstrider, but now Jingxing he Pathstrider, he naturally knew how difficult it was to influence a planet with his Path Ability—this wasn't about "destroying" a planet, but about making all life on it fall under his influence.

Destruction, though intuitive, is still simpler than creation, isn't it?

The Robin didn't seem like someone who could have done that. But now that Kafka has said it, it seems they were the unsung heroes behind that performance.

"Jingxing," she said, "I want to make a request of you."

"Does the Stellaron Hunters need my painting?"

"No, that's not it." Kafka shook her head, bent down, and scooped the black cat into her arms. The black cat was restless in her embrace, its vertical pupils fixed on Jingxing. "Elio said he hopes you won't go to the Galactic Library; the academic war of the Genius Society still has irreversible effects on that place. For your safety, and for your artistic pursuits, we strongly suggest you go to the Dual-Phase Paradise."

After she finished speaking, she walked into the starlight without waiting for Jingxing's reply.

The cockpit lights came on again. The star chart's patterns flowed as before, and on the flight path map, the pale gold line still pointed to Ismael.

Jingxing sat there for a long time. He tapped the control panel twice with his fingertips and then stopped. The black cat's vertical pupils, which he had seen before it left, were still vivid in his mind's eye—there was no hostility in them, but something more unsettling: familiarity.

It was as if it had been watching him for a long time without his knowledge.

"Dual-Phase Paradise, huh..." Jingxing muttered.

The World-Painting Academy there is a renowned art academy in the galaxy, and many famous painters have graduated from there, and...

"Ms. Zhenzhu is now the manager of Dual-Phase Paradise, right?"

Zhenzhu, one of the "Ten Stonehearts," was Jingxing's parents' former superior and the one who had offered to raise Jingxing.