While Qingque was busily wolfing down her lunch, Herta—who had paid absolutely no attention to the commotion earlier—finally decided on which trash can to open first.
She picked up the trash can, turned around, and was just about to speak when she noticed a vaguely familiar figure. The sudden shift in that person's aura made her freeze for a moment.
Wasn't that Fu Xuan, the Diviner of the Luofu? Just two hours ago, she had still been an ordinary Pathstrider. But now… there was no mistaking it—this was the power of an Emanator!
Though Herta's body was merely a puppet, as a seasoned Emanator of the Path of Erudition, she could clearly perceive the strange change in Fu Xuan.
She was familiar with the Diviner—not because of their brief encounter that morning, but because the Master Diviner was a known figure even among the Genius Society. With Nous' blessing, Herta possessed the Third Eye, allowing her to perceive much that others could not. In the academic circles of the Society, Fu Xuan, the Diviner of the Xianzhou, was possibly even more discussed than the General himself. After all, anything that bore the touch of Nous inevitably drew the attention of every genius.
But it was precisely because Herta understood such matters that she found this development even more perplexing.
To become an Emanator, the only requirement was recognition from an Aeon. And the most well-known path to such recognition was to reach extraordinary heights along one's Path.
Just like herself—by achieving immense academic success and leaving an indelible mark upon the Path of Erudition, she had earned the right to stand before the Aeon THEMSELF.
The Hunt, born of vengeance, was far less tranquil. All of its Emanators, save for the Arbiter-General of the Cloud Knights, had proven their will through grand, earth-shattering battles, earning their power through mortal struggle.
Yet in the past two hours, the Luofu had been utterly peaceful. Apart from a scuffle between two street children, there hadn't been the slightest trace of battle.
So then—where did this newly risen Emanator of the Hunt come from?
A smile crept onto the puppet's otherwise cold face.
How fascinating. Utterly fascinating!
This trip to the Luofu was proving full of delightful surprises.
The more mysteries that appeared, the less her mind recoiled; instead, her curiosity only deepened.
The digital world, the power of concepts, a suddenly appearing Emanator… any one of these topics alone was enough to ignite her full scientific passion.
Who cared about the Herta Space Station anymore!
Herta nearly wished she could drag her Simulated Universe apparatus here and just live on the Luofu permanently.
So long as she could study these mysteries, even the most precious treasures in the universe would be worthless to her.
All that mattered was satisfying her curiosity. Everything else was irrelevant.
Fu Xuan, seated in the rest area, soon noticed Herta's gaze.
At a glance, she caught the burning desire hidden within those otherwise icy violet eyes.
But rather than feeling relieved, her brow furrowed slightly.
What's with that look—as if she's about to dissect me alive?
Is this how people from the Genius Society express goodwill?
"Miss Herta," Sylvester interjected at the perfect moment, "you've been holding that trash can for quite a while now—aren't you tired?"
He could guess what was going on: Herta must've stumbled upon something she deemed interesting for research. Normally, that was none of his business. But if it involved human experimentation—and even remotely touched Fu Xuan—then he felt obliged to intervene.
"Oh?" Herta's awareness returned to the present, and she replied casually, "Not at all."
She cast another glance toward Fu Xuan, a faint smile glimmering behind her eyes.
In time, I'll uncover every secret behind you.
But for now...
She looked back at the trash can. After all, the more research topics, the better. The power of concepts—she had been looking forward to this.
With a clang, the trash can's lid flew open, bathing the shop in green light.
A rectangular metal box appeared in Herta's hands. When she opened it, the polished stainless steel reflected her figure. Inside were various small compartments—and in the otherwise empty container sat a single tiny pickled plum.
She brushed it with her fingers—it was only a plastic model.
Turning her head, she glanced at Qingque's enthusiastic eating and the similar lunchbox beside Sylvester.
This… was a lunchbox?
Fu Xuan also noticed it. For Herta, new to the scene, it was baffling—but the Diviner had seen plenty of oddities.
Among locals, when a Curio's result turned out unexpectedly mundane, they jokingly called it being "off the mark."
"[Portable Bento Box Fax]," Sylvester explained. "A disguised gadget used by a certain world's protagonist. Press the pickled plum on top, and it pops open a hidden miniature fax device."
Few would recognize the name, but mention a bowtie voice changer, a tranquilizer wristwatch, or a solar-powered skateboard, and nearly everyone would know what he was talking about.
Yes—one of the legendary tools of that young detective of death. But perhaps because time flowed differently in that world, after half a year—and nearly a thousand solved cases—their technology had advanced at a breakneck pace.
Fax machines, though? Those had long been obsolete. Even in that world, they'd been scrapped ages ago. Here on the Luofu, this thing would be considered ancient enough to belong in a museum—displayed as an artifact of primitive humanity's convoluted communication habits.
And as for the hidden fax machine inside? Far less useful than the lunchbox exterior it hid within.
Truly, a relic of its time.
But the Genius Society didn't believe in tears.
"Trash," Herta remarked succinctly.
Sylvester nodded in agreement.
For both the Xianzhou and the Genius Society, this thing was probably a waste of metal.
As for collectible value...
Would Herta really put this into her Curio collection chamber?
She set the lunchbox aside, as if simply placing it down temporarily—but Sylvester knew better. That poor Curio had already been abandoned by its new owner.
Though her first Curio of the day had turned out to be a dud, Herta didn't seem bothered.
Spending a million Credits for a lunchbox did sound ridiculous—but she didn't care. To her, this wasn't an individual purchase—it was merely one failed experiment in a series of trials. She had gone through countless such failures before.
Even now, her true body, far away across many galaxies, was already gathering every bit of data available on the Curio Trash Can shop. Comparing it all, she found this result completely within expectations.
It wasn't without value—statistically, every ordinary Curio opened slightly increased the odds of obtaining a rarer one next time.
That was, in her mind, part of success.
"It doesn't matter," she said. "As long as I buy enough, sooner or later I'll get the Curio I want."
Without hesitation, she turned and began selecting again, as if Credits meant absolutely nothing to her.
Truly the embodiment of a scientist—rigorous in logic, fearless in expenditure.
Sylvester nodded, half in admiration.
But not admiration for her.
Rather—for that three-character game company.
So, this is how you make your fortune.
Was this all part of your plan too?