Herta didn't fall for her act at all. Her cold gaze swept over Silver Wolf's projection like a surgical knife: "Passing by? Passing by and treating my Space Station as your game arcade? I ban a few of your accounts, and you dare to directly break in and cause destruction?"
"Hey! Be reasonable!"
Silver Wolf got angry hearing that and forgot her fear. "You're the one who banned my accounts indiscriminately first! My limited edition items..."
"So you retaliated with such a childish virus?"
Herta interrupted her, stepping closer. The surrounding air seemed to drop in temperature. "And you left your ridiculous graffiti on my territory? It seems the lesson I gave you was too light."
Silver Wolf was forced back a few steps by her aura, her fingers rapidly manipulating in the void, trying to end the projection and escape. "Hmph! So what if I did! If you're so capable, come hit me through the network cable!"
Though she spoke defiantly, she was already starting to panic because she discovered — the projection termination command had failed!
The surroundings seemed to be locked down by some stronger force!
"What... happened?"
A trace of panic finally appeared on Silver Wolf's face. She tried several emergency escape protocols, but they all vanished without a trace.
Herta watched her fumbling, a cold arc forming at the corner of her mouth, and continued to approach unhurriedly: "What? A network hacker, once out of the data domain, is only capable of this much?"
Just as Silver Wolf thought she was doomed today and was about to activate a self-destruct protocol that might damage data—
Tap, tap, tap... Dense and uniform footsteps came from both ends of the passage, quickly moving from far to near, attracting their attention.
Dozens of Herta Puppets poured in from both ends of the corridor!
They still maintained their delicate and exquisite appearance, but each held a heavy-looking metal hammer, severely disproportionate to their size!
Their eyes were hollow, their movements uniform, and they marched with stiff steps, like programmed automatons, heading directly towards — Herta's main body!
Silver Wolf: "???"
(Inner thoughts: What's going on? Herta's puppets are rebelling? Or have I actually fallen for some advanced illusion?)
Herta didn't even frown, only a flicker of impatience flashed in her eyes, as if she had seen some annoying mosquitoes.
She didn't even change her posture, just lightly snapped her fingers.
Snap!
An invisible command instantly covered the entire area.
All the charging Herta Puppets were like power had been cut off simultaneously; their movements instantly froze, maintaining their comical hammer-raising poses, stiff in place, the light in their eyes extinguished, turning them into true "puppets."
However, just as Herta was dealing with this sudden "internal rebellion," Silver Wolf keenly seized this fleeting opportunity!
She felt that the power locking her projection seemed to loosen slightly due to Herta's distraction!
"Now!"
She almost burned her hacker potential to the limit, forcefully breaking through the momentary lockdown!
The projection instantly became blurry and flickered, like a TV screen with a bad signal.
When Herta finished dealing with the puppets and her cold gaze swept back to Silver Wolf's location, it was already empty, leaving only a few scattered data streams, proving that someone had successfully fled.
Herta stood in place, looking at the empty corridor and the frozen puppet army around her, her face terrifyingly grim.
She didn't care that Silver Wolf escaped; that small fry could be dealt with anytime.
What she cared about was the method used to control the puppets to attack her, and the subtle yet extremely advanced interfering force that helped Silver Wolf escape... Indeed, there was more than one rat mixed into the Space Station.
And the other one... seemed even more troublesome.
She raised her hand, looking at the purple energy that hadn't completely dissipated from her fingertips, and whispered coldly:
"It seems it's time for a thorough cleanup."
Astral Express, in the cozy carriage.
Madam Herta elegantly picked up the drink offered by the system and took a small sip.
The system's settlement prompt sounded in her mind—the "Banana Disaster" farce that had thrown the Space Station into chaos had brought her 1% core repair progress.
"Only 1%...?"
She put down the cup, her purplish-black eyes showing no emotion.
(Inner thoughts: Although it's a bit small, considering I only input a few key data points and guided existing chaos without expending too much power, this return is reasonable. Even a mosquito's leg is meat.)
Compared to this insignificant gain, what truly interested her was another discovery.
In the chaotic data stream just now, she tentatively used a trace of her authority, not for destruction, but to capture and copy a wandering data fragment—a piece of data originating from Silver Wolf.
At this moment, a blue-glowing, complex data stream floated in her palm, slowly rotating like a living electronic firefly.
"Interesting..."
Black Herta murmured to herself.
She could feel that although this data was incomplete, it contained the possibility of "realizing" a virtual image.
This was not a complete soul replication, but more like a highly simulated empty shell.
"System,"
She gently pushed the data stream in her hand towards the system puppet standing by, "Try to see to what extent you can 'materialize' it."
Data rapidly flowed in the system puppet's inverted cross-shaped eyes. It stretched out its hands, and purplish-red energy, like a weaver's thread, began to weave the blue data stream.
The light gradually condensed and took shape... A few breaths later, a figure appeared in the center of the carriage.
It was indeed Silver Wolf's image—gradient-colored hair, iconic attire, and a slightly rebellious posture.
But the overall color scheme was dark, as if shrouded in shadow, with purplish-red energy patterns outlining the details, exuding an ominous cyberpunk style.
Her eyes were hollow and lifeless; she just stood there quietly, like an exquisite, inanimate figurine.
Madam Herta stood up and walked around the "data silver wolf" with great interest, even reaching out a hand, with a researcher's curiosity, to gently pinch "Silver Wolf's" cheek and touch her arm.
(Inner thoughts: The tactile sensation is quite realistic, and the energy structure is stable... And this color scheme, it matches my outfit quite well?)
"Can you give her a basic consciousness? Even just the simplest interaction."
Madam Herta asked, wanting to test the limits of this creation.
"As you wish." The system puppet responded, and a more refined data stream was injected into the "data silver wolf's" head.
A faint light ignited in "Silver Wolf's" eyes, no longer completely hollow, but the light appeared dull and confused.
She slowly turned her neck, her movements stiff, and looked at Madam Herta, her lips parting a few times, but only producing meaningless static.
Madam Herta frowned.
(Inner thoughts: As expected... merely a shell. Too little data was collected; it's barely enough to form a rudimentary AI. Like a low-level robot with only a pretty exterior, unable to even have the most basic conversation.)
She immediately lost interest.
Such a defective product was too much, even as an ornament.
She casually waved her hand.
The "data silver wolf's" figure instantly disintegrated, transforming back into a purplish-red data stream, and as if absorbed, merged into Madam Herta's palm, disappearing without a trace.
The entire process was silent, as if it had never existed.
"It seems the completeness and quality of the 'captured' data are key."
Madam Herta concluded, her gaze thoughtful.
"If more complete data could be collected... perhaps truly lifelike 'replicas' could be created? Or even... carry a portion of power?"
This thought stirred her, but now was not the time for in-depth research.
"Let's go back."
She said to the system, "Herta is probably like a stirred-up hornet's nest, searching the entire Space Station for suspicious signals. Although protected by Aha, there's no need to stay in the eye of the storm."
"Yes, Madam." The system puppet bowed respectfully, reopening the door connecting to the System Space.
Madam Herta stepped back into the pure white space.
The warmth of the carriage and the view of the sea of stars behind her were cut off, replaced once again by boundless "emptiness."
Her gaze unconsciously flickered towards the black door leading to Cyrene's prison, and her footsteps paused slightly.
(Inner thoughts: Uh... going there now might be a bit awkward? I just put on that whole act, and then hugged her and said sorry before running off... So embarrassing! I'd better wait until this awkwardness passes...)
She really didn't have the face to immediately confront Cyrene's clear yet bewildered azure eyes again.
That feeling of social death was almost too much even for her expressionless face.
"In that case..."
She turned her attention to the Golden Descendants list on the system panel, "Let's check on the other 'residents.'"
Cyrene was already in such a tragic state, bound by chains materialized by the Iron Tomb's power. What would be the "status" of the other few, such as Anaxa, Cipher, Aglaea, and Phainon, in the database?