"No, wait—Asta, you're not mistaken, right? You can't come up with one million, but ten billion is fine?"
Asta crossed her arms and shook her head:
"One million—I really can't produce that."
Then she directly pulled a phone from her pocket and handed it to Zeig.
"I'll open an Interastral Peace Corporation account for you and transfer the credits directly. This phone isn't worth much anyway—it's yours now."
Zeig naturally took it and examined the phone repeatedly:
"How much is this phone exactly? Those ten billion credits aren't going to have nine billion counted toward the phone, right?"
Hearing Zeig's doubt, Asta hadn't reacted yet, but March 7th's eyes widened:
"Big bro, they've already agreed to give you money—why are you still nitpicking?"
Zeig paused, his gaze intense:
"March, you're saying it's wrong to just take money—I should ask for some items too?"
March 7th froze, then exploded:
"When did I say that?! You're the one twisting my meaning—I'm telling you to tone it down!"
Ignoring March 7th, Zeig turned back to Asta.
"Asta, I think March is right. Does your space station have any good stuff? Just giving money is too superficial."
Asta's brows furrowed slightly at that moment.
She seemed a bit troubled.
"Gulp." Seeing Asta's expression, March 7th immediately swallowed.
She's probably angry now.
The deep friendship between the Express crew and Herta Space Station was about to be ruined by this idiot Zeig!
"Shut your mouth!!" March 7th grabbed her camera, raising it as if to smash it into Zeig's face.
She had to make her stance clear right now—she was on Asta's side.
No—she had to represent the entire Astral Express and stand with Asta. Demanding an exorbitant price was Zeig's personal behavior and had nothing to do with the Express!
Asta looked up: "I understand. March is right—I was inconsiderate. It shouldn't just be credits."
March 7th stood frozen in place.
"What exactly did I say? I really didn't tell him to ask for stuff—don't slander me!!"
Then, under March 7th's shocked gaze, Asta apologized profusely and led Zeig to the storage room.
Zeig followed Asta, browsing the surrounding weapons, and frowned:
"Is this all? They're just ordinary firearms."
He turned seriously to ask March 7th's opinion.
"March, what do you think?"
March 7th pressed her lips together, utterly speechless.
How did it end up sounding like this was really her idea?
"Since it's their kind offer, just take a few casually to make do." She replied perfunctorily.
Zeig straightened up: "I understand."
Then he said to Asta ahead: "These firearms are too ordinary—March doesn't like them."
March 7th: "…"
Asta's eyes widened: "This batch is already the finest in the space station. March, these won't do either?"
March 7th: "…"
Asta sighed, "Sigh, I didn't expect your standards to be so high. It seems ordinary things aren't up to the Express crew's taste."
So, under March 7th's dumbfounded expression, Asta looked left and right. Seeing no one else around, she began undoing her clothing ties.
"Hey, hey, hey—Asta, what are you doing!" March 7th rushed forward and stopped her.
"No matter what, you have to value yourself. Zeig has issues with his brain—you don't need to do this to yourself."
Asta shook her head.
"No, Zeig is a hero of the space station either way—I can't be stingy."
She moved March 7th's hand away and undid the ties.
"Aaaah—you beast, don't look!" March 7th furiously turned and kicked Zeig.
"Huh?"
Zeig reacted a beat slow and was directly kicked over by March 7th, rolling several times on the ground before stopping.
March 7th's chest heaved violently, her face flushed with anger, pink-blue eyes wide open as she gritted her teeth: "You beast—stop coveting other people's things!"
Zeig patted the dust off himself, looking bewildered: "What, what did I do? March, why did you hit me? Did I do something wrong?"
"Wrong my ass!" March 7th quickly kicked him again, then pulled him around to face away from Asta, not letting him look.
At that moment, Asta's puzzled voice came from behind.
"What are you two doing?"
March 7th turned to look—Asta was holding that tie in her hand.
Her clothes were perfectly intact.
"Hm? You, just now you weren't…?"
She clearly remembered Asta about to undress.
"What?" Asta looked confused. "Oh, right—do you want this cord? It contains spatial power and can hold a lot of things. You just need to wear it on your body. This one is my spare."
March 7th paused:
"Spare? Why do you wear a spare on yourself?"
Asta showed an innocent expression: "Wasn't it the Doomsday Beast fight today? I brought it along just in case. If the space station got destroyed, I could at least take some instruments with me."
She extended her hand, offering the white cord knot, from which a faint fragrance emanated.
March 7th reached out to take it—it still carried Asta's body warmth.
"Can this really hold things? It looks way too small." March 7th asked doubtfully.
The white cord knot looked as thin as a shoelace.
Zeig: "March, since it's their kind offer, let's not be picky anymore."
March 7th: "…"
Zeig: "Look, we've been at this for so long—actually, a token gesture is enough. Don't damage the relationship between our Express crew and the space station."
March 7th: "…"
Asta was also sighing repeatedly:
"Yes, yes—this is very rare; you can't even buy it on the market. March, if you're still not satisfied, let's look at other things."
March 7th: "Why does it feel like I'm the one being unreasonable here!"
She was just a bit curious about the cord—these two were really seizing every opportunity.
Helplessly, in the end, March 7th watched through teary eyes as Zeig accepted the cord, an unreleased phone, and an account that gained ten billion credits.
And even.
"Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat——!!"
Zeig held an AK-47, wildly sweeping shots into the dark cosmos from the platform, having the time of his life.
"I'm familiar with this gun—turns out using it feels this good." Zeig exclaimed.
March 7th: "…"
"Bang bang bang bang——!!"
Then Zeig pulled out the Desert Eagle pistol from his waist and fired several rounds.
"This one's good too—ten of each of these two weapons. Oh, and ten crates of ammo!"
March 7th: "…"
Asta behind them also nodded:
"Sure. I didn't expect you to like such retro weapons—it's rare."
March 7th helplessly: "Hey, aren't you overwhelmingly strong? Why ask for these hot weapons?"
Zeig: "Actually, I've had a dream of being a gun god since I was little. Enough talk—it's time to check out the train car."
Watching Zeig leave fully loaded, with March 7th complaining beside him, Asta couldn't help but curve her lips.
She seemed in a good mood.
At that moment, Arlan—who had been hiding in the shadows—slowly stepped out.
"Young lady."
"Hm." Asta smiled. "I didn't expect that with just a little money, we could gain an Emanator-level fighter. What a steal."
"It's just tough on Miss March 7th." Arlan said. "She's really embarrassed."
Asta waved her hand:
"It's fine. Both March and Zeig are very interesting people."
Her eyes carried a trace of relief.
"Mr. Welt said that if Zeig accepts my money, it means he's willing to continue helping Herta Space Station. If something happens here in the future, he'll definitely come back."
Arlan nodded.
Though they hadn't interacted much, he trusted his young lady's judgment.
Watching Zeig and the others walk far away, the space station returned to the post-disaster silence it should have had.
…