Could it be… another golden Curio?
Dan Heng noticed every detail of Stelle's movements. That aura, as though she was about to conquer the very peak, planted a ridiculous thought in his mind.
Is there truly some mysterious bond between the Trailblazer and trash cans?
Could it be that when she opened a Curio Trash Can, this special link allowed her to find the very best Curios?
He recalled how she had only opened two cans before, yet gained the attention of an Aeon and a purple Curio. That kind of luck was hard to explain.
No way… could someone really commune with trash cans?
Absurd as it sounded, the thought sprouted swiftly in Dan Heng's heart.
With a flourish, Stelle pulled open the lid and tossed it away. The metal cover spun into the air, vanishing slowly.
She struck a pose—one hand on her hip, the other raised upward at an angle, brimming with style.
As the radiance of the trash can flooded the shop, she closed her eyes with confidence, her smile unrestrained. It was as if the rarest Curio was already destined to appear, and this grand display was no more than a ritual for welcoming fortune.
Dan Heng shut his eyes early to avoid the glare, though his mind stayed restless.
Could it be true? Has she really uncovered the secret of the trash cans?
That air of certainty, that arrogance, that complete disregard for humiliation…
He squeezed the [Orb of IX] in his hand.
No way. To witness two golden Curios in a row? To consecutively encounter something this terrifying?
The more his emotions stirred, the more the theory in his heart grew—nurtured until the seed became a towering tree.
When the light faded, March 7th lowered her shielding arm, and Dan Heng and Qingque opened their eyes, blinking away the brightness.
Watching Stelle slowly relax from her pose, March 7th hesitated, then asked Dan Heng: "Um… wasn't that green light just now? Doesn't that mean it's usually just something ordinary? Then… isn't her reaction a bit…"
If it were her, she'd never strike such a pose under everyone's eyes unless the atmosphere was absolutely perfect. But right now…
Wasn't this basically popping champagne at halftime?
Wouldn't the Trailblazer die of embarrassment?
Dan Heng looked at the black plastic bag in Stelle's hand, his face calm, though his thoughts tangled into a storm.
Embarrassing doesn't even begin to cover it—it's social death!
Remembering his earlier assumptions, he wished he could crawl into a hole. If he were in Stelle's place, he'd be experiencing true second-hand shame.
As a companion—especially now, after pledging to stand by each other—Dan Heng knew he had to handle his words carefully, to protect the Trailblazer's pride.
Before Stelle broke down, he decided to cushion the moment with a few words, and then let March 7th follow through to ease her mood.
"Trailblazer, actually, green is al—"
"Perfect!" Stelle shouted with unrestrained excitement, her face glowing. She raised the black trash bag high and punched the air with her free hand, utterly delighted.
"Huh?"
Dan Heng exclaimed, though it wasn't out of awe—or perhaps it was, in a way.
The words he had half spoken froze in his throat, and he stared stiffly at Stelle.
Did… did the humiliation break her brain?
"Trailblazer, are you… okay?"
March 7th cautiously tested the waters.
Her companion now looked like…
Well, like someone who had spent a million credits, only to strike a tokusatsu hero pose while holding a trash bag.
There was no way this counted as normal behavior.
Stelle turned, eyes locked on the trash bag she held aloft with both hands.
She whispered with reverence: "Perfect. Absolutely perfect…"
"Oh no, the Trailblazer's snapped!" March 7th panicked, running up to Sylvester at the counter. "Boss, boss, I heard you've got all kinds of skills—exorcising demons, curing strange diseases, fixing shoes, cutting keys. Please save Stelle! She's still young, she can't be ruined like this forever! And if something happens in your shop, won't it hurt your reputation too?"
"I appreciate your concern for your companion," Sylvester replied with a note of sympathy, though his tone turned resigned. "But stop believing everything you see on clickbait feeds. I don't provide those services."
Then he looked at Stelle and added, "She's fine. Just a bit… overexcited."
"Overexcited?" March 7th gave Stelle a full up-and-down scan. Not a shred of her worry eased.
All this… over a bag of trash?
"Perfect! It must be placed in the most prominent spot in the Astral Express's locker, guarded by Pom-Pom! From now on, every new passenger must see this bag first thing!"
Stelle's imagination soared, her joy boundless. The vision seemed as grand as watching one's child become a corporate CEO—second only to becoming CEO oneself.
"Um, maybe… that's not necessary," March 7th twitched at Stelle's outlandish idea, utterly unable to relate.
Making this the face of the Astral Express? That was practically a slap in Akivili's face!
"No, you don't get it! You don't understand its charm!"
Stelle's expression grew dead serious. She stepped up to March 7th, pointing at the bag. "Look here—this crease! Isn't it winding and sinuous, like a dragon plunging into the sea?"
"Try another metaphor," Dan Heng said flatly.
But Stelle ignored him, continuing: "And this color—dark as the night sky! The texture—smooth as silk! And best of all, this fishbone right here—"
March 7th was completely at a loss, nodding awkwardly with a polite smile to keep up appearances.
"In short, to pull out such a flawless piece of trash from a trash can—it's priceless!" Stelle spent ten whole minutes passionately explaining the bag's wonders.
By the end, March 7th's eyes were glazed, her pupils unfocused. "Ah… yes. Totally."
"Such a gem, yet unappreciated…"
Though her tastes were unusual, Stelle's passion ultimately wasn't beyond human understanding. After venting her enthusiasm, she noticed March 7th's half-hearted response.
Caressing the bag gently, she sighed: "No matter. As long as I appreciate you, that's enough."
Then she turned, giving Sylvester a big thumbs-up. "Boss, I misjudged you. I always thought your trash cans had no trash, which was an insult to trash cans. But now, you've produced such perfect trash. Rest assured—I'll use all my connections to spread word of this achievement!"
"No, don't! Please don't!" Sylvester raised his palm in refusal.
No one wanted negative publicity.
He pointed at the shelves. "Just hurry and open the rest. Usually I don't care what people pull, but right now, I sincerely hope you get a golden Curio."
A trash bag from a Curio Trash Can? That was just too degrading.
"Hehe, relax. My luck's always been good," Stelle said cheerfully, hefting another can from the rack.
"Hey, what if there's a smaller trash can inside this one? And then inside that, an even smaller one? All the way down—what do you think will be at the end?"
Dan Heng and March 7th groaned, holding their heads.
Questions like that were beyond their pay grade. It was like asking why trash cans never held actual trash.
With her back to them, Stelle flipped open another lid, still rambling excitedly about her whimsical theory.
Until a golden beam shot out, reflecting against the walls.
Her body froze. She forgot her speech. After the brief blindness passed, she first saw Dan Heng and March 7th's shocked faces, mouths agape.
"No way… she really pulled a golden Curio?" March 7th was speechless.
So casually, so effortlessly—was the highest tier really at her fingertips? Where was the justice?
A crystal in the shape of a skeletal hand dropped into Stelle's grasp.
She turned it this way and that, but felt nothing unusual.
So, she asked Sylvester: "Boss, what's this?"
[Hand of Deconstruction:Said to be the right hand of an omniscient god from another world. Once absorbed into the body, the host gains the ability to deconstruct all knowledge of an object by touch. If a book is touched, its contents will be instantly and fully mastered. If a living being is touched, every minute detail of its anatomy will be understood. (Note:Ability can be toggled on or off.)]
Sylvester regarded Stelle and spoke with seeming irrelevance: "Have you ever had a dream?"