My Name Is Anastasia
This is a famous tourist shopping street in Singapore, and a hub for fashion trends.
The renowned Orchard Road is a showcase of modern Singapore and a beautiful product of capitalism, much like Singapore, it is the country's central shopping district.
This area is lined with all sorts of shopping centers, selling a wide variety of goods, from Japanese small appliances to oriental antiques—almost everything imaginable.
You can find most of the international hotels, nightlife spots, and countless restaurants, bars, and leisure centers here.
Before independence, the colonial chiefs' mansions were built on this site, and now they are all assets of the country. Many stateless people also live in these elegant old buildings.
What's interesting is that, unlike other streets in Singapore, Orchard Road wasn't named after any particular person.
Instead, its name comes from nutmeg and peppers that were planted along the street in the 1840s.
Leonid loved to sit on the top floor of the International Hotel building as the time approached the hour of Oma, looking out through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows at the end of the day, watching the neon lights of the streets gradually gleam as the sun set and night fell.
His deep blue eyes no longer held the happiness and gentleness of more than a decade ago; now, only a murky and lifeless blue remained. Yet, as this tall man intently watched the sun set, the sunlight reflected into his pupils seemed to ignite into a sudden and intense flame.
It was the fire of hatred, but so cold it had lost its warmth; even the sunlight could only make it seem intense for a brief moment.
More than a decade ago.
In Siberia, Russia, Leonid, his wife, and daughter faced a calamity beyond human control, embracing each other tightly as they awaited death.
He stroked his wife and daughter's soft blonde hair and said softly:
"The gods will protect us, don't be afraid. As long as we rely on each other, even death is nothing to fear."
The daughter's smile was as gentle as an angel's. She struggled to move her petite body from the wheelchair and finally, under the man's careful watchful gaze, she hugged the two of them tightly.
She said she wasn't afraid.
His wife laughed and said, "Our little angel isn't afraid, so what is she afraid of?"
The man thought that if this was a calamity sent down by the gods, then perhaps praying would be a pointless act, but this last bit of tenderness gave him a sense of redemption.
Even though the greater sorrow and helplessness of reality made him so desperate that he could hardly muster any anger, looking at the faces of his family, Leonid felt that perhaps this outcome wasn't so lonely after all.
He was no longer afraid of death in its simplest form.
But the missile, or rather something even more terrifying, was stopped. The man was overjoyed. He felt it was divine revelation, divine salvation. He believed this calamity was not a trial given by God, but a conspiracy of the devil.
Now the demons have been defeated, and the light bestowed by the gods is so beautiful.
The biting cold wind couldn't shake the man's spirit. He and his family could start their lives anew. He used to worry about his daughter's leg problems, but now he felt that none of that mattered. After witnessing even more cruel despair, his past flaws and regrets had become a unique kind of beauty.
He, Leonid, was strong enough to fight a brown bear, and no bad boy could bully his daughter. In the future, he could take his daughter out to play more often with his wife. In the past, he was always concerned about the family business and rarely spent time playing with his daughter.
Now he feels that nothing compares to the time spent with his family, and to hell with the family business.
The man smiled and said to his silent wife beside him:
"Marisa? Are you too happy? I know, I understand. After all, there's probably nothing more terrifying in life than this."
There was no response.
He was almost incoherent, but he still tried his best to speak in the softest tone possible:
"It's alright, my beloved ones. The darkness has passed. We don't need to dwell on the past. Now let's find a place to shelter us from this damned snow."
There was no response.
The man's smile froze. He looked at his wife's lifeless eyes and his daughter's emotionless smile, utterly overwhelmed by something far greater.
His voice trembled with fear, and his tall body shuddered involuntarily. The name Leonid means lion in Russian, and now this man, as strong and proud as a lion, was afraid and retreated.
His pupils contracted, and his mouth opened wide, but he remained silent.
He slowly and quietly touched the skin of his daughter and wife in his arms; their skin had already lost its warmth...
That day, the Siberia wind was exceptionally cold.
That was the day the man named Leonid lost everything.
More than a decade later, he may have finally come to understand some of the details of what happened back then.
His wife and daughter were killed directly by the radiation from the Honkai. Theoretically, their deaths should have been even more brutal. However, it seems that they were able to leave this world peacefully because of the mysterious power provided by the Valkyrie blocked the missile. Perhaps he survived because of this as well.
Leonid understood that it was already a miracle that he, as a man, had survived; theoretically, he shouldn't ask for anything more.
But over the past decade or so, he had been accumulating wealth through petty schemes and climbing the social ladder bit by bit. Perhaps something inside him had already gone awry by then. He had nowhere to vent his emotions, no one to share his sorrows with, and his hatred had entwined his heart like vines.
The heart? Perhaps only the heart remains.
Even though he survived, the man's body was still corroded by Honkai Energy in a short period of time. He then underwent a series of expensive surgeries, removing most of his body and replacing it with cold machinery in order to survive.
The flesh and blood that once belonged to him/her in this body has almost completely disappeared.
He explored aimlessly, but only became more and more aware of his own powerlessness.
What is the meaning of life?
This pent-up hatred, with nowhere else to go, must have its grand expression at the very last moment of life.
Like fireworks.
The man silently recited this in his mind.
Yes, just like fireworks.
He had to get the key that would set him ablaze; he had to attend the auction and get what he wanted.
In other words, it is a weapon of Schicksal.
Leonid stood at the entrance beneath the tall building, watching the bustling crowd slowly pour into the enormous shopping mall that had been perfectly normal just a dozen hours earlier.
The man walked in indifferently and without hesitation. At the entrance of a designer store, he stopped and quietly handed an invitation to the saleswoman.
The detailed addresses shown on each person's invitation will likely differ, but ultimately, like rivers branching off around the world, they will gradually flow back into the ocean.
Led by that man, Leonid arrived at the "party" that served as a prelude to the auction.
The dazzling array of items and the soft, interwoven lighting perfectly decorated the spacious venue, giving it a solemn and elegant atmosphere. Red carpets covered the entire area, and tables and chairs were arranged in an orderly fashion. Quite a few people had already arrived, and they were almost all silent, standing alone in a corner. As with any normal gathering, most of them showed no interest in the champagne and food on the table.
Leonid was the same; his gaze wandered over the unfamiliar faces. They were all potential competitors. Since it concerned the organization, those who were interested and dared to come in person were certainly not ordinary people.
Is this like snatching food from a tiger's mouth?
The man's eyes narrowed slightly, and a sarcastic smile appeared on his hard face.
The attempt by ordinary people to use machinery to replace the physical body in order to resist the rate of Honkai is ultimately limited.
Leonid's lifespan was already very short.
Beneath his seemingly unscathed exterior lies a precarious situation where he could face death at any moment; now, he has nothing left to fear.
Fireworks, he murmured the word.
Confused and sorrowful, numb yet clear-headed.
"Miss, the room temperature here is just right. Would you like to take off your shawl?"
The boy's fluent Russian caught the man's attention. He asked the "young lady" in the wheelchair in a low voice, and the girl blinked her azure eyes and nodded in response.
This should be an excellent butler educated in England, yet for some reason the man had this impression of him, even though it was only their first meeting.
The young butler smiled and skillfully and gently took the shawl and laid it on the "young lady's" legs. This interaction seemed more heartwarming and detailed than a normal master-servant relationship.
Judging from the wheelchair, this young lady must have some kind of problem with her legs; perhaps these two people came because of that "advertisement."
If that's the case, then they're not competitors.
Perhaps it's worth making contact with.
What truly gave the man this idea was her legs, which were in the same condition as her daughter's, and her equally clear and beautiful blue eyes.
If it weren't for her East-leaning facial features, she might have looked more like his daughter.
The young man politely and courteously struck up a conversation with a nearby man, asking:
"Sir? Did you come alone?"
The young lady seemed a little shy; she subtly tugged at the butler's sleeve, causing a hint of helplessness to creep into the young man's smile.
Leonid successfully captured this adorable and subtle gesture, which made him lower his already low guard. For some reason, a rare smile even appeared on his face. Perhaps this was the unique charm of this young lady.
He said:
"Yes, I came alone. My name is Leonid Michersson. Young lady and deacon, may I ask your names?"
The young lady hesitated for a moment and said softly:
"My name is Anastasia."