The Department of Lumina Archives arranged a separate, high-spec private office for Hua Yi.
The Department of Universal Things was also carefully selecting a new dormitory for him.
The difference between a Level IV and a Level II researcher wasn’t just in authority; the benefits were also worlds apart.
Adding to that, the Department of Star-Field Species sent a researcher to act as his assistant.
Unconsciously, it seemed the research departments had once again reached some kind of tacit understanding.
Seeing Lamina gingerly place the documents from the earlier presentation on his desk, her gaze darting towards him from the corner of her eye, with a timid expression that showed she was terrified of making a mistake, Hua Yi spoke kindly.
“Thank you for telling me about the Department of Star-Field Species before.
Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to understand the common problems researchers face when using the work programs, and I wouldn’t have been able to optimize the database.” “N-no, you’re welcome!” Lamina was a Level III Researcher, yet her every move now seemed exceptionally tense, far more reserved than even Emily.
Hua Yi was certain that even with his current Level IV authority, if he were to speak with the not-so-talkative Miss Emily, she would likely still be her usual self.
At least, on the surface.
Inwardly, discovering that the newcomer had suddenly become a Level IV Researcher, creating a gap between them, would probably evoke a different kind of emotion, distinct from jealousy.
It was a reasonable suspicion that if he were to just leave Emily to her own devices, she would be very upset, and might even secretly wipe away tears when no one was around.
He sent a normal, friendly message to Emily—who was just a bit clumsy with her words but actually enthusiastic and kind, and who had taught him a lot of common knowledge about the station over the past few days—lest the young researcher shed any tears.
After also replying to a question from his little fan, Wen Shiling, Hua Yi looked up again to observe the secretary the Department of Star-Field Species had quietly arranged for him.
Lamina’s reservation had another reason, something related to the worries in her heart.
A secret she had never told anyone had infinitely magnified the importance of this job.
Being so concerned, she found it difficult to handle even ordinary tasks with ease.
As an assistant, being reserved and polite was certainly not a bad thing.
But if she didn’t even know what to do next and had to wait for instructions for every action, she would inevitably make a poor impression on a superior who was particular about details.
If Hua Yi had just said the word to the five departments, the numerous researchers of the Herta Space Station, those with Level III or even Level IV authority, would have surely fought tooth and nail to be his assistant.
Replacing Lamina was a matter of a single sentence.
However, he hadn’t let his rapid promotion go to his head, changed his attitude, or started enjoying the privilege of ordering others around, as if this unprecedented, special Level IV Researcher status were just an ordinary label.
“I remember you were preparing to apply to the Department of Universal Things to research a Curio.
How did it go?
Was your application approved?” Both the earlier thanks and the current inquiry were gestures of concern—a kind of thoughtfulness that was completely genuine and could only be expressed by remembering things about Lamina.
Even though the young researcher knew Hua Yi had a stellar reputation on the station, she never imagined that he, now the center of attention for all five departments and the station’s hottest commodity, could remain so calm and composed.
Honestly, if she were in Hua Yi’s situation, she’d be waking up from her dreams with a smile and practically bouncing as she walked.
How could he maintain such a sense of normalcy?
Lamina was only a Level III Researcher.
Unlike the top-tier scholars, she hadn’t immediately grasped the full value of the Bud of Erudition and the Key of Inspiration.
She had only indirectly confirmed the brilliance of Hua Yi’s research talent from the reactions of the department heads during the presentation.
But now, looking at his handsome face, his attitude seemingly unchanged from their very first meeting, Lamina faintly realized that the rising star of the space station was perhaps even more formidable on the inside than he appeared on the outside.
“It was just approved yesterday.
The one I applied to research is the [Total Eclipse of the Heart].” “Oh, that Curio.
I remember it’s a cone-shaped device made from an unknown rock material, right?
When activated, any object that intersects with its outer ring pathway will be eroded and broken down into its basic particle form.
It’s generally used to decompose waste materials on the station and convert them into usable laboratory materials.” “I didn’t expect you to remember it so clearly.
Many researchers who have been at the station for years can’t recall the information for a specific Curio from memory without searching for keywords.” Of course, there were also countless examples of researchers with years, or even decades, of work experience who still hadn’t obtained Level IV authority.
“My memory’s pretty good~ When the Total Eclipse of the Heart decomposes a certain quantity of material, the erosion effect will expand and have a significant negative impact on the minds of organic life forms.
Remember to be careful.” “Mhm, I’ll strictly follow the requirements of the operation manual.” Unconsciously, Lamina let go of her earlier reservation, and a vitality befitting a young woman bloomed on her face.
“By the way, do you know what happens when someone’s mind is eroded?
There have been several people on the station who were affected by the Total Eclipse of the Heart.” “What happens?” “Besides feeling down, the affected personnel will get a mark on their terminal.
The word [Blackened] appears after their name.
They need to undergo psychological counseling and have the note changed in the backend to return to normal.” “Is it that terrifying?” Being able to recite the information on the Total Eclipse of the Heart, Hua Yi naturally also knew the amusing anecdotes about that Curio, or rather, the embarrassing histories of the affected researchers.
Even so, he still put on a cooperative expression of surprise and amusement, helping the young researcher to further shed her unnecessary psychological burden.
“Are you planning to write a thesis on the Total Eclipse of the Heart?
As it happens, I’m also preparing to write down some rough ideas on how to seek a balance for humanity in a universe where Aeons truly exist, to send to old Mr.
Guen, the founder of the Department of Galactic Jurisprudence.
It might keep him from staring at the starry sky with such mixed emotions.
Let’s both get to work now.” Hua Yi had a general understanding of the Honkai: Star Rail universe and had studied works like “A Theory of Justice” and “The Republic” back in his hometown.
Although humanity seemed insignificant compared to the sentient celestial bodies, and justice was indeed an excessive luxury for those without power in many cases, that didn’t mean certain things had completely vanished.
Setting aside his desire to seek the truth, perhaps it was the Department of Galactic Jurisprudence that had the highest compatibility with Hua Yi.
He himself pursued the justice in his heart, disliked any tragedy, and did not wish for any beautiful thing to perish.
When reality struck, Hua Yi would also use his own power to stop the strong who treated human life as worthless, and save the weak who were perishing in the wind.
He picked up his pen, writing line after line, hoping to bring a glimmer of valuable light to the lost Department of Galactic Jurisprudence.
—o—