“So, based on these clues and deductions, I suspect that this memetic contamination is very likely transmitted through the interstellar network.
As long as we reply, the Astral Express might be affected as well.” Under the utterly shocked gazes of the Express crew, Ye Cang raised his palm, gently “caressing” Asta’s poignant face frozen in midair on the hologram.
His eyes filled with pity.
“Miss Asta, knowing there was no hope of rescue, wanted to contain the memetic contamination within the space station.
That way—” “—sacrificing everyone inside the space station would keep the spread of the memetic contamination to a minimum, and…
preserve the other planets in the star system.” He withdrew his hand, took a step back, and bowed deeply to everyone, a calm smile returning to his face.
“Of course, all of the above is merely my speculation.
My fellow Nameless don’t need to take it to heart—just treat it as a reference.
If it happens to be identical to reality, well, let me just say I plagiarized the script.” Only now did the crew snap out of Ye Cang’s seemingly absurd yet completely self-consistent deduction.
Their faces were all painted with a strange expression that practically read: *Did this guy steal a look at the script or what?* “You know what?
He’s got a point!” Little March clapped her hands—or rather, clapped them once.
Dan Heng, making a rare expression of sheer amazement, agreed deeply.
“Well-reasoned and convincing.” Ye Cang shook his head.
“Convinced already?
I advise you not to take it too seriously—because I really just made it up.” “Even if it was made up on the spot, it’s undoubtedly the conjecture closest to reality.” Welt acknowledged Ye Cang’s logic and turned toward the sleeper car.
With a flick of his wrist, a simple metal cane materialized in his palm.
He tapped it heavily against the floor of the Astral Express and spoke without looking back: “Since we’ve decided to head to the space station, we naturally must make the fullest preparations…
Keep talking, you all.
I’ll go pack my ‘luggage.'” Himeko watched Welt leave the parlor car, then raised a hand with a gentle smile.
“In that case, everyone go get ready.
We’ll assemble back in the parlor car in one system hour.” “Alright.” Dan Heng didn’t say much.
Holding his spear, Cloud-Piercer, he turned and left.
March 7th touched the blue camera at her waist and looked at Ye Cang and Himeko.
“This young lady doesn’t really have anything to pack—taking my camera is enough.
What about you two?” Ye Cang stood rooted to the spot, unmoving.
“What’s wrong?” Himeko asked softly.
“I suddenly have a bold idea.” The youth grinned, revealing a row of neat, white teeth.
“Hold on right there!
Please put away your ‘bold idea’!” Though Little March didn’t know what Ye Cang wanted to do, she immediately cut him off, looking slightly on guard.
Himeko’s expression shifted slightly, a gleam flashing in her amber eyes.
“What are you planning?” “I want to reply to Asta’s transmission,” Ye Cang chuckled, his eyes beaming as he spoke.
“I’ll say—” “‘Hey rich lady, I don’t want to grind anymore.
If I save your life, will you be my sugar mommy?'” Himeko: “…” Little March gave him a look of utter disdain.
“Can you have a little self-respect, you guy?” “Come on, she’s the Lead Researcher of a whole space station!
She must be loaded, right?” Ye Cang spread his hands.
Although he didn’t know exactly how wealthy Asta was, with a title like that, she was definitely a rich lady beyond a shadow of a doubt.
“For a rich, gorgeous lady like that, forget keeping me as a boy toy—she’d probably be happy to throw in a star-destroyer ship for free!” “Oh boy!” Little March felt her fist clenching.
“Having your cake and eating it too, huh?” Himeko looked deeply at the improper young man and said meaningfully, “That Miss Asta might be even wealthier than you imagine.” Ye Cang’s eyes lit up.
“For real real?” Himeko withdrew her gaze, looking out at the starry sky beyond the window while idly twirling a strand of her red hair.
She changed the subject: “Can you tell me your reason for doing this?
Based on your speculation, replying might invite the memetic contamination…
What makes you want to take such a risky move?” “Nothing much, just a bit curious.” Ye Cang scratched his head.
“Information is still too sparse right now.
This is our only chance to get ahead of the memetic contamination.
As long as we take adequate precautions, the risk shouldn’t be that high.” “If we can analyze the nature of this meme beforehand, our trip to Herta Space Station afterward should be much safer.” He had to admit that in front of Big Sister Himeko, Ye Cang still reined in his wild, eccentric nature a bit.
Don’t ask why.
If you ask, the answer is *Final Lesson*.
Himeko smiled, the faint curve of her lips as refreshing as a spring breeze.
“As expected, Brother Ye Cang, you’re actually a good person at heart.” “Who are you calling a good person?” Ye Cang’s eyes widened, but a moment later he deflated, dropping his hands.
“Please don’t give me a ‘good person card.’ It’s bad luck.” March 7th was stunned.
“You actually believe in that stuff?
I thought your skin was as thick as a subspace crystal wall—the Wall of Preservation!” Ye Cang gave her a sidelong glance, his eyes shifting downward with a look of disdain.
“Can’t beat the Wall of Preservation.
It’s only slightly thicker than a certain someone’s pecs.” “You’re asking for it!” Little March threw a punch with a *whoosh*.
The sheer force almost plastered Ye Cang right onto the wall of the parlor car.
His bones creaked loudly; if his body hadn’t consumed the [Abundance Potion] beforehand, he might have gone off to meet his ancestors early.
“Are you alright?” Himeko hurried forward to support Ye Cang, who was almost spitting blood.
She gave a slightly scolding look.
“Little March doesn’t know her own strength.
Why do you insist on teasing her?” “I’m fine…
just almost died in the line of duty, that’s all.” Ye Cang clutched his chest, grimacing in pain.
Little March crossed her arms and snorted.
“You’re just a temporary worker.
Even if you die on the job, the Astral Express won’t give you any death benefits.” Ye Cang: “?” He turned to stare at Himeko, who was supporting him, an expression of total disbelief on his face.
“Did you hear that?
Is that something a human would say?” Himeko watched him gently, smiling without a word.
Helpless, Ye Cang walked back toward the public comms terminal.
Looking at Pom-Pom, the conductor who was currently sweeping the floor, he suddenly asked, “Is there a chance we could sever all of the Astral Express’s network connections, leaving only this single terminal operational?”