As the most advanced Soulium computer from the Previous Era, Durandal only needed a slight move to infiltrate the chaotic information flow of the bar like an invisible spiderweb, precisely gathering all the intelligence Little Dudu required.
One of the core pieces of information was regarding the bounty on Fuli.
To be honest, Little Goose had known about this for a long time.
As early as the Foggy Capital incident, the two Nazi remnants belonging to the Hellsing Organization had attempted to take Fuli's head in exchange for the bounty.
However, back then, the bounty on the A-Rank Little Li was at most ten million crystals. Being worth that much was only thanks to the scandalous rumors cooked up between him and big shots like Durandal and Theresa.
But now, how the tables have turned. Not only had the sources of the bounties become diverse, but the reasons were also bizarre.
For example, the IPC.
Yes, certain factions within the Interastral Peace Corporation were also privately putting a hit on Fuli, and they specifically marked that he must be captured alive.
Disrupting the assassination plan against Asta on the cruise ship and killing the current Yama Rasetsu was one aspect;
A deeper reason was that spies planted within the Board of Directors by other factions had vaguely uncovered the true origin of the epoch-making product, the Light Cone.
Besides that, the Hellsing Organization entrenched in South America hated Hyperion to the bone.
They had already been beaten repeatedly by Raiden Ryoma's new ME Corp, fleeing in disarray, and held a bellyful of anger.
Coupled with their ace being killed and the fragment of the Holy Lance of Finality being snatched, adhering to the lucky mindset of "The Honkai World is full of talents, what if someone actually succeeds?", they not only put a bounty on Fuli but also included Mei on the list.
Then there were those villains who had formed a deadly feud with the Galaxy Rangers. Their reason was simple and crude:
Hyperion not only provided large batches of arms and ammunition to this bunch of psychos obsessed with upholding justice, but they actually f*cking allowed them to buy on credit!
Isn't this creating favorable conditions for these paupers to slaughter us bad guys? How can you be so selfish? We just hate these nosy do-gooders!
If the above could be barely considered justifiable from the parties' perspectives, there was one reason for the bounties that was obviously laughable.
After arriving at the Luofu, Hyperion, relying on the Equipment Reinforcement Furnace and the Star-Forging Furnace, launched an equipment reinforcement and fusion service at their station.
At first, there were few visitors, but as weapons reinforced to +10, +13, and even +14 came out shining, the stall soon became bustling with people.
However, even though it was clearly stated from the start that equipment failing reinforcement above +12 would directly shatter, it still couldn't stop the ambitious hearts of a few gamblers.
The result?
Equipment exploded, mentality exploded, Su touching the electric wire—lost (Su) numbly.
The vast majority were willing to admit defeat, but there was always a small group of people who vented their resentment on Fuli and the others, either slandering them for scamming their equipment or complaining, "Why didn't you stop me back then?"
Fight in the streets?
Obviously not feasible; the patrolling Cloud Knights and Aurumaton Gatekeepers were not to be trifled with.
So naturally, they could only resort to underhanded means.
Add to that the forces at odds with Tribios, the parasites within the Taixuan Front, the radical faction of Anti-Entropy, the Schicksal Council of Elders, and those who simply had too much money and found them eyesores... one could only say that in a big forest, there are all kinds of d*cks.
But no matter what, compared to the obscurity of the past, the current Hyperion had truly stepped onto the grand stage of the Honkai World.
Gratifying, congratulatory, Coca-Cola.
"Don't f*cking fight with me!"
In the bar reeking of alcohol, amidst the drunken revelry of the villains, a certain bald burly man slammed the table fiercely.
The table groaned under the unbearable burden. With bloodshot eyes from drinking too much, he said ferociously, "I'm going to gather men right now! I don't care about Hyperion or Critical-Class powerhouses; I'm going to crush him and his broken ship into scattered dust together!"
"His baby's, you want it all?"
In the corner, a male voice with a magnetic texture but full of playfulness rang out: "I'm just saying, bro, haven't you watched that video going viral on the dark web? My brot—cough, that kid Fuli single-handedly suppressed over a hundred City Gods in Shenzhou and hammered them! With just you and your bunch of crooked melons and cracked dates, you deserve to go mess with him?"
The video mentioned by this mysterious visitor referred to "Earth-Shattering Duel! God-Avoiding Fuli vs. One Hundred City Gods! Witness the Birth of a Cross-Century Genius!" edited and uploaded by Houraiji Kyuusyou.
The Savior fully utilized her talents, coupled with explosively burning BGM, making the entire scene exhilarating and the movements flowing like clouds and water. It rendered the already invincible strength of the protagonist as if a god had descended to the mortal world.
Before long, it spread all over the internet, and was even seen on the Reality Side, becoming extremely popular.
Ordinary people would scream and shout, treating it as a sci-fi movie with "duang-duang" special effects, but those in the know could glimpse the chilling truth within.
"Video? Pah!"
It would have been fine if the mysterious visitor hadn't mentioned it, but once he did, the bald burly man became even more disdainful. "Just that footage? A fledgling kid who just got rated Critical suppressing over a hundred long-established veteran A-Ranks and beating them up? Defeating each of them over ten times in a row within ten-plus minutes using their own best moves? If this is f*cking real, I'll eat sh*t in public!"
Little gluttonous cat.
Little Goose complained secretly.
"Exactly, new guy. If you're stupid yourself, don't treat others as idiots too."
On the other side, a man with a goatee smiled sinisterly. "I heard from an acquaintance inside the Taixuan Front that the kid named Fuli has an unclear relationship with the elusive Taixuan Marshal. Maybe this is just a good show staged by some people specifically to flatter their own Marshal!"
Relationship? Just a pure cousin relationship, what else could there be?
Durandal remained expressionless, accidentally crushing the juice glass in her hand, creating a crack.
"Pure passerby here, but I have doubts."
A man wearing gold-rimmed glasses, looking refined but unable to hide his ruthlessness, also spoke up at this time. "Coincidentally, an incident occurred when all the City Gods of Shenzhou gathered in Sapphire to report their work. Everyone just happened to arrive and fight him. Other Critical powerhouses arrived and coincidentally chose to stand by and watch. In the end, they let him leave unharmed and even allowed the battle video to circulate on the internet."
He pushed up his glasses and looked around at everyone present. "Gentlemen, aren't there a bit too many coincidental factors in this?"
"Cut the f*cking crap!"
The initial bald burly man let out a strange laugh like a night owl. "A head worth five hundred million crystals, even tripled if captured alive! After doing this job, it's enough for me and my brothers to live freely for a long time!"
The mysterious visitor finally couldn't hold back a sneer. "Any random member of the Stellaron Hunters you catch would be enough for you to wash your hands in a golden basin and live for ten lifetimes. Why don't you cute little things go try your luck with them?"
"Can that be the same? Are you here to find fault?"
The burly man was like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. He smashed the table with a punch and looked fiercely at the source of the voice.
———Stellaron Hunters, a terrifying medium-sized organization that made people pale at the mention.
Its main members were Kafka and the terrifying Molten Knight Sam. The organization's core goal was to seize the Stellaron that served as the hub of Bubble Worlds. Their trajectory spanned across the Tree and the Sea, and their true purpose had not yet been made public.
As for their bounties, even the lowest member had a full five billion.
Although the amount of the bounty couldn't fully represent combat ability, it proved their extreme danger and ruthlessness from another aspect.
At least none of the lowlifes present dared to target the Stellaron Hunters, fearing that the tables would turn instantly, transforming them from hunters into prey, following in the footsteps of Eren Jaeger.
But they couldn't lose face, so, flying into a rage out of humiliation, they cast fierce glares toward the corner one after another.
After seeing the person's appearance clearly, the murderous gazes were immediately replaced by astonishment and panic.
"Came to a bar on the Xianzhou on a whim to play, didn't expect to meet a bunch of bros who feel their lives need a speedrun."
The tall cowboy sitting on the bar stool grinned, revealing his iconic shark-like sharp white teeth. "Lied to you, it wasn't on a whim."
He casually tipped the brim of his hat that was blocking his view with his pistol, which was still emitting wisps of smoke. Without even looking at the bald burly man who had a large hole opened in his chest, his gaze fell on the group of villains in the bar who were facing a formidable enemy:
"Yo!"
"G-G-G-G-Galaxy Ranger!!!"
After a brief dead silence, terrified screams erupted in the bar.
Some people were scared out of their wits, while the rest broke out in cold sweat on their foreheads, quickly gripping the weapons hidden on their bodies.
"Boothill!"
The goateed man stood up abruptly, drawing a slender rapier from his cane, his voice carrying an imperceptible tremor. "You have guts barging into our lair alone! But even if you've stepped into the Critical Class, you might not necessarily be able to kill everyone here before all your bullets run out!"
Boothill didn't answer immediately. He turned around leisurely, his fingers fiddling with the old-fashioned record player by the bar a few times.
After a slight rustling sound, a powerful drumbeat and prelude rang out.
"Young people nowadays prefer the albums of Robin and Ms. Eden, but an old antique like me still prefers those handed-down classics of MJ."
Michael Jackson's explosive song "Beat It" filled the entire space. The Ranger turned his face, his cold gaze scraping over the goateed man like a scalpel. "Raping pregnant women, creating biochemical bacteria, trafficking organs, torturing children... The fact that you've lived until today means God is either dead or has been sleeping too long!"
Bang——!
The heavy metal drumbeat slammed down on hearts like a heavy hammer. Boothill's muzzle jerked up abruptly amidst the iconic electronic heavy hit of the "Beat It" prelude!
The screech of the bullet tearing through the air. A burly man rushing over with a machete by the bar fell backward in response, the blood blossom exploding between his eyebrows splashing into a poignant crimson arc under the psychedelic neon lights, perfectly overlapping with Michael Jackson's warning-filled lyrics!
"His baby's, this is called an opening remark!"
The Ranger grinned ferociously, spun, and retreated. The iron heels of his military boots, inlaid with metal spurs, crushed the glass shards on the floor, his dance steps stomping to the rhythm of the dense kick drums.
When the second segment of aggressive guitar screaming suddenly rose, he slid behind an overturned wine table like a ghost merging into the shadows. The silver revolver flipped in his fingers, so fast that only a blurred afterimage remained!
Bang bang bang!
Thirteen bullets, like the Grim Reaper calling roll, precisely pierced the throats of thirteen gunmen aiming from different angles.
Corpses knocked over heavy oak wine barrels. Dark red cheap wine mixed with warm pools of blood spread across the floor, reflecting the light spots of the broken disco ball spinning frantically.
"Don't wanna see no blood? Don't be a macho man!"
Amidst the mocking roar, Boothill suddenly leaped into the air.
Flipping backward in mid-air to dodge the strafing barrage, his trench coat hem spread out like a cape during the hang time.
The drumbeat hammer smashed down in response. He swung his arm and swept the gun horizontally. The shotgun roar blasted the wine rack into a sky full of crystal rain like a thunderstorm. The ambushing enemies had shrapnel embedded into their flesh, their screams drowned out in the tearing guitar solo.
"They say I look like a dog; I treat villains as bones."
The Ranger leaped toward the center of the dance floor, stepping on the limp bodies of those who had broken down, bullet trajectories weaving a net of fire around him.
Just beat it! The moment it resounded, he spun just right and threw out the revolver, the muzzle pressing against the survivor's jaw.
Bang——!
Skull fragments mixed with brain matter splashed onto the wall vibrating with the residual sound of the bass drum. Boothill bent down to pick up the brass shell casing that rolled to his feet, blew away the smoke, and casually flicked it toward the still-screaming old record player.
"Work's done."
The drumbeat stopped abruptly, leaving only the harsh noise of the needle scratching the vinyl, pulling at the bloody aftertaste in the dead silence.
After the Foggy Capital incident, the unlucky Ranger had emptied his savings and racked up a huge bill at the Helix Workshop to barely complete the repair of his cybernetic body.
But that was still A-Rank Rule Breaker.
The reason Boothill, whose pockets were cleaner than his face, could miraculously step into the Critical Class in just a few months was entirely due to Fuli's personal sponsorship.
The method was simple and crude to a heinous degree: dismantle every part of this cyborg one by one, use the Equipment Reinforcement Furnace to reinforce everything to +12, and then reassemble him.
The price was owing his good brother another astronomical debt.
But even without this debt, Boothill would inevitably appear here to dance this tango called death.
Reason?
As the last survivor in the bar, the gold-rimmed glasses man was already scared out of his wits, half his body paralyzed.
He supported his broken body with his only remaining arm, retreating in terror in the sticky pool of blood. "Y-You killed so many people... aren't you afraid that after we die, we'll turn into the most vicious evil ghosts, tearing at you and gnawing at you in your dreams day and night?! W-wanting you to never have peace for eternity?!!"
Boothill raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You mean? It's not enough for me to love you scum during the day, I actually have to work overtime in my dreams at night to continue loving you to death?"
Bang!
"That would be simply too awesome, okay! Hahahaha!"
This was a Galaxy Ranger.
The bar returned to quiet, leaving only the thick, nauseating smell of blood.
"If you always count on others to stand up for you, then you will never have a day to stand up for yourself."
Humming an out-of-tune song, Boothill didn't look back. "What, little girl, planning to overestimate your capabilities once too?"
"No."
Little Dudu standing behind him shook her head.
"Then is one of your relatives among this bunch, and you plan to endure for now and seek revenge in the future?"
"Also no." Little Dudu shook her head again. "I'm just wondering, why did they use their bodies to steal your bullets?"
"That phrasing, cool!"
Boothill blew a loud whistle, dashingly holstered his revolver, turned, and strode toward the door.
Watching the man's back disappear out the door, the girl scratched her smooth golden hair simulated by Soulium. "This should count as mission complete for me, right?"
That definitely counted. Galaxy Rangers were especially professional in eradicating evil thoroughly, guaranteeing not a single survivor was left.
"Then let's go back."
As a typical workaholic, Little Goose obviously had no interest in wandering around the Wardance ceremony.
The way to return was also simple: just revert this Soulium body to its initial state of a faceless puppet, hand it over to the Schicksal Embassy stationed on the Luofu, and Bianka, the main body, could release the consciousness mapping.
However, just a second before the mental command was issued.
"That guy Boothill sure made a big scene; I heard gunshots from way off." A clean male voice with a hint of a helpless smile clearly penetrated the broken door of the bar. "Eh, brothers of the Cloud Knights, it's here! Sorry to trouble everyone!"
"No trouble." Followed by a calm and powerful response: "Although that Ranger's methods are a bit informal, he did help us eliminate many hidden dangers. Leave the follow-up cleanup work to us."
This voice—
Little Li?
The incredibly familiar voice hard-controlled Little Dudu in place.