Yevenko, March 7th, and Dan Heng advanced together.
Himeko had gone ahead to coordinate with Asta, so she temporarily split off from the group.
Along the way, March 7th and Dan Heng were slashing their way through waves of Antimatter Legion soldiers. A steady rhythm of combat—it was starting to wear on them.
Meanwhile, Yevenko and Tom followed behind like two tourists tagging along with an adventure tour group. He was starting to feel guilty.
Worse, even when he spotted enemies like Fragmentum soldiers, his exploration value only increased by a minuscule amount. That gave him an idea.
So just seeing enemies isn't enough? I actually have to engage them directly to get bigger exploration gains?
It'd be easy enough to test. The station was crawling with Fragmentum mobs.
As they opened another chamber door, only a single Fragmentum Marauder stood inside.
Yevenko decided—This is it.
He stepped forward. "March, Dan Heng, take a break. Let Tom and me handle this one."
March and Dan Heng exchanged a glance.
They were admittedly feeling a bit tired. And while Yevenko and Tom didn't look like fighters, they were still Trailblazers. They had to have some abilities, right?
Besides, they were nearby. If anything went wrong, they could intervene in time.
Dan Heng gave a short nod. "Alright. Since we're all Trailblazers, we'll take you at your word."
Yevenko nodded in return.
Now it's my time to shine.
"A wild Fragmentum soldier has appeared!"
"Go, Tom Cat!"
He grabbed Tom by the scruff of his destiny and flung him forward.
Tom landed with all four paws tapping the floor lightly, perfectly balanced.
Then he looked up at the menacing Fragmentum Marauder—the hideous face, the glint of its sharp blade.
Tom gulped.
Then looked back at Yevenko, raising a finger to point at himself.
Me?
Yevenko nodded resolutely. "That's right, Tom. Show them what comedic characters are made of. Turn the Antimatter Legion into a joke!"
Seeing his master so full of confidence, Tom reluctantly stepped forward, head held high—if only barely.
The Fragmentum Marauder spotted Tom approaching and immediately moved to engage.
As a low-level Antimatter soldier, the Marauder possessed almost no rationality. It followed its instinct to destroy—feral, savage, and deeply aggressive.
While in lower-grade worlds, this class of enemy was still considered formidable—
If Tom couldn't even beat this thing, Yevenko might as well quit playing the real-life version of Star Rail. He'd lie down in his Astral Express, pull a sheet over his face, and prepare to reroll his entire life.
The Marauder drew closer, and when it was near enough, its destructive instincts surged. It stomped the ground and lunged forward in a blur, aiming straight for Tom.
"AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!"
Tom screamed at the top of his lungs, hovering momentarily in midair as his eyeballs bounced out on springs.
He furiously rummaged behind his back—pulling out a tin can, a roll of toilet paper, a pink bow, a stethoscope… Things flew everywhere. With no time left, he finally produced a single embroidery needle.
He covered his eyes with his left paw and stabbed forward blindly with the right.
The Fragmentum Marauder, lacking even basic intelligence, didn't see it as a threat. Even if it had intelligence, it would never consider a tiny embroidery needle worth avoiding.
The Marauder's momentum didn't stop. It slashed with its right blade—cutting clean through Tom's waist.
In that instant, Tom split in two—top and bottom, cleanly sliced—but there wasn't a single drop of blood.
However, the Marauder's knee accidentally grazed the embroidery needle during the attack.
And somehow—unbelievably—its body, as hard as stone, was punctured. A hissing plume of hot air burst from the hole like a deflating balloon. The creature rocketed upward, spinning out of control.
A few seconds later, it crash-landed—flattened like a piece of parchment.
March 7th and Dan Heng had been ready to jump in when they saw the Marauder about to strike. But before they could even react—
It was already over.
The Marauder was deflated and down. And Tom…
He was still in two pieces.
They both stood there, stunned.
"…What was that?"
"Is this even logical?" March 7th murmured, eyes wide with disbelief, her brilliant rainbow-colored irises sparkling with confusion.
Dan Heng was silent for a long moment before replying slowly.
"It's absolutely not logical. I've gone through countless archives in the databanks, and I've never seen anything like this."
"Tom… What kind of cat is he?"
Yevenko placed his hands on his hips, smug. "You guys seriously don't get it? Let me explain—it's very simple. Tom is…"
"A magical cat!"
March 7th: "…"
Dan Heng: "…"
In front of them, Tom's upper half was crawling across the floor with his paws. He reached his bottom half—which lay motionless nearby—and calmly reattached the two halves.
Instantly, Tom stood whole again.
He patted his belly, flashed a wide grin, and raised a thumbs-up at the deflated Marauder in the distance.
That's it?
Not even close to Jerry.
March 7th, being… straightforward and emotionally unburdened by logic, leaned in closer. She smoothed her skirt, crouched, and studied the spot where Tom had been split.
Then she touched it.
Tom curled up like a hamster getting scratched, letting out a pleased little rumbly purr.
March 7th's soft lips parted in astonishment.
"Perfectly whole. Not even a scar."
Taking down a Marauder wasn't that impressive—she could do it in two or three shots herself. But the way Tom functioned? That was what bent her worldview in half.
Dan Heng, ever the rational one, examined him even more carefully.
He knelt and looked around the area. No blood. No signs of exposed organs. It was like Tom wasn't a biological creature at all, but some kind of rubbery cartoon model brought to life.
But when he reached out to touch him—he felt warmth. Fur. The softness of real muscle under the skin.
Every detail confirmed that Tom was alive. A living being.
Then what could explain his... anatomy?
A unique ability? One-of-a-kind biological anomaly?
Dan Heng could only come to that conclusion.
He walked over to the flattened Marauder and stared at it for a while, trying to make sense of what had just occurred.
Eventually, he sighed.
"…Sigh."
Can't understand. Brain shutting down. No further thought.
Sometimes, when you're faced with an unsolvable question, the best approach… is to just give up.
Avoidance may be shameful.
But it works.