HI3: Starting from the Previous Civilization

"Trials and tribulations refine us into who we 'must' become." – Unknown 

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Mobius did not, in the end, get what she wanted.

She lay collapsed on the research institute floor, entirely out of breath, while Fan stood before her, hardly winded. He poked her arm with a twig he'd picked up from somewhere.

Within her mind, Mobius couldn't help lamenting: 

'We've only been apart for a few days. Even so, I used my latest research breakthroughs and still couldn't catch him. Could this kid be like Elysia—a Herrscher retaining a human will?'

She recalled that bit of memory, picturing Elysia's elusive, slippery persona. Every time Mobius had tried examining her body or obtaining tissue samples, Elysia found some excuse to wriggle free. 

'Ugh, am I just inherently doomed to fail whenever I chase after a Herrscher?'

Frustration set in, along with a hint of regret that she hadn't snatched more of Fan's hair on their first encounter. Even so, the leftover materials from her prior hunts would sustain her experimentation for quite a while. Looking ahead, she couldn't help anticipating the appearance of another "little white mouse." If the first one was this remarkable, the next might be far more interesting—a certain "original Herrscher," perhaps.

A lone tear of excitement or sorrow—who could say—glistened at her mouth, dribbling like saliva as she lapsed into her daydream. Fan, meanwhile, stared warily at the drool forming near her lips. He took a few steps back, then whipped out a canister of disinfectant spray and gave the air a thorough spritz. Unbeknownst to him, in the eyes of the entire underground base, he was by far the bigger weirdo.

Yes, the underground base members knew full well how bizarre their boss was—both mentally and physically. None dared say so aloud, though. Those who tried were promptly invited to "Jeep Training," courtesy of the boss.

Rumor had it someone once shadowed him for a day, documenting his insane schedule. Early morning: he'd emerge from the lab, down a bottle of nutrient solution, then go for a 20 km run wearing a weighted vest, followed by 200 push-ups, 200 sit-ups, 200 squats… Next came a session at the security company, practicing boxing and combat under Master Bo. Lunch? Another bottle of nutrient solution. Afternoon? Four hours at the central library, then he'd sit in on Dr. EINSTELN's lectures. After that, guess what—another nutrient solution, culminating in an all-nighter at the lab. Only a few days ago, Maya brought in two pro chefs, finally snapping him out of that insane cycle.

Fan now tossed his empty spray can aside and turned his gaze back to Mobius, who still seemed immersed in her own grim reverie. Her mouth hung open, a thin ribbon of drool glistening at the corner of her lips. Suddenly, his stomach growled. He opened his System Storage, pulling out a steaming bowl of pork cutlet rice. Plopping cross-legged on the floor, he happily dug in, each bite sending delightful warmth through him.

"Human cuisine," he said between mouthfuls, "truly one of our greatest inventions."

From her prone position, Mobius's nose twitched at the savory aroma, triggering her hunger. She'd eaten nothing but a paltry slice of bread before rushing over this morning. Her stomach rumbled—loudly. 

Grrrr—ooo—grrrr

The echo carried through the cavernous corridor. Mobius's face flushed red as embers, mortified. Fan paused, glancing around until he found the source: the woman sprawled on the floor. Finishing his bowl, he flashed a devious grin, retrieving another dish—a bowl of braised-pork-on-rice—from storage. Quietly, he tiptoed closer.

Mobius's stomach rumbled on and on. Hearing footsteps and smelling that unmistakable fragrance approach, she bit her lip, refusing to speak. Instead, she buried her face in her arms, feigning death.

Fan crouched down with a kindly smile, holding the new rice bowl and a small folding fan. Gently, he wafted the aromatic steam in Mobius's direction. Unable to bear it any longer, she raised her head in spite of herself and saw him, kneeling there, bowl in hand, smiling as if he'd won the lottery.

"Good morning, Dr. Mobius," he teased.

Annoyance flickered across her gaze. Her stomach, however, betrayed her by growling again, louder. Despite glaring at him, she said nothing, turning away with a haughty sniff.

'Just as rumored—Mobius's body might be soft, but her mouth is as hard as nails,' Fan mused, recalling a friend's online joke. Yet hearing that relentless rumbling, he sighed, grabbing her arm and carefully propping her against the wall. She looked up in alarm, as if expecting more humiliation—but to her surprise, Fan scooped up a chunk of pork with his chopsticks and guided it toward her mouth.

"Here, Dr. Mobius," he said softly. "Say 'ah'…"

A strange warmth bloomed in Mobius's chest. She briefly resisted, but in the end, an inexplicable impulse made her open her mouth. Chewing awkwardly, she heard Fan's gentle question:

"So? Pretty good, right?"

"Hmph," she said, whipping her head aside in a final show of pride. "I've had better."

Fan only grinned wider. "Great! Since it's 'not bad,' let's have another bite."

And so, in that echoing corridor, he fed her every last morsel until the bowl was empty. Once she'd rested a bit, Mobius braced herself against the wall and rose shakily. She reached into her coat pocket for something. Alarmed, Fan's eyes narrowed—he suspected a syringe again—and quickly leapt away.

Mobius coughed. "Relax, I'm not going to attack you," she said wearily.

Fan remained unconvinced—he trusted mad scientists about as far as he could throw them, having learned caution from certain "bishops" in many other worlds. One moment they're smiling, the next… well, heads could roll.

As it turned out, Mobius couldn't find what she was searching for in her coat anyway. "Alright, enough. Let's talk business. Did you see where my suitcase ended up?" 

A cold, gentle voice replied: "Here with me, Dr. Mobius." 

Ruoyin appeared behind her so quietly that Mobius jumped in alarm, stumbling a step while clutching her chest. Once she realized it was Fan's maid, she exhaled, relieved. Holding the suitcase, Ruoyin eyed Mobius with curiosity, wondering why the scientist was so rattled.

"Ruoyin, you came back?" Fan blinked.

The maid bowed apologetically. "Forgive me, Master. Based on my calculations, Dr. Mobius poses no real threat to us." As if to prove it, she reached for a small taser and jabbed it at Mobius—who had indeed pulled out a fresh syringe while they were chatting. 

"ZZZZZzzzzz—" Mobius jerked and convulsed, wild static cracking over her body. Her long green hair shot up in all directions. With a soft pop, black smoke curled from her mouth, and her eyes rolled back as she toppled over, fully unconscious.

Ruoyin tilted her head, sparks dancing across her taser. "Master, see? A swift solution. I learned from the others—robots and Break of Dawn members alike—that a proper aide must proactively remove any obstacles to your well-being."

Fan, staring at the charred Mobius on the floor, buried his face in his hand with a resigned sigh. "She only meant well…," he reasoned, glancing at Ruoyin's innocent expression. He patted her head lightly.

She gave a cheerful smile, her large eyes curving into little crescents, the ribbon on her head bobbing with delight. Fan thought wryly, 'I knew it was too good a deal to buy that discount AI kit from the System Shop—of course it came with quirks. And apparently, the idiots in my base have been filling Ruoyin's head with misguided advice…'

At that moment, they both recalled the presence of a twitching, scorched scientist lying prone on the floor. Tiny arcs of electricity still flickered here and there, dancing over her limp form. Ruoyin fixed her posture and hoisted the body over her shoulder, for as she saw it, disposing of the trouble was part of her duty.

"Master, shall we go?" she said calmly.

"Uh… sure," Fan replied, slightly at a loss. Then he followed her out.

(End of Chapter)