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Inside the Stellaron Hunters' base.
"Whir... whir."
Firefly lay inside a capsule-like, high-tech instrument, a blue light slowly scanning her from head to toe. Silver Wolf stood nearby, her fingers dancing across a virtual keyboard, manipulating a holographic avatar that mirrored Firefly's every biological detail.
Standing behind her were two legendary figures. Blade stood tall, his long blue hair contrasting with his cold, expressionless face, though his suit could not hide his explosive musculature. Beside him was Kafka, the group's "matriarch." She exuded an air of dangerous elegance, her long pink hair styled up, her wine-red tights and loose white top framing a figure that radiated seductive charm.
They watched the screen intently. Only after Silver Wolf let out a long sigh did Kafka speak in her sultry, melodious voice. "Silver Wolf, how is Firefly's condition?"
"All of her bodily functions have returned to their peak state," Silver Wolf answered, not looking back.
Blade's eyes widened in rare shock. "You mean... her Entropy Loss Syndrome is actually cured?" For a moment, his cold mask slipped, replaced by genuine excitement.
But Silver Wolf shook her head. "The result isn't quite that good. Although her body has recovered to its peak, the underlying cause still exists. Her life... is still slipping away."
Blade's excitement vanished, replaced by a heavy sigh. Kafka, however, tilted her head thoughtfully. "Even so, this is great news. It means as long as Firefly takes that potion, she can reset her physical state. It's an indirect cure. But... what kind of person could produce such a thing?"
The room fell silent. Not even the IPC or the Genius Society had ever successfully cured a case of Entropy Loss.
"We'll have to ask her when she wakes up," Silver Wolf said, shifting gears. "By the way, Kafka, shouldn't we start preparing for Elio's next script?"
Kafka nodded. "Yes. Soon, we will go to the Herta Space Station to wake her up. And... to take away a special youth. He is the key to leading everyone to escape The End."
Meanwhile, at the Space Station's Security Department training room.
Hiroshi gripped his wooden staff, his knuckles white as he forced himself to stand. His clothes were heavy with sweat, his skin was mottled with bruises, and his arms shook with exhaustion. He had pushed his ordinary human body to its absolute limit.
"Captain Arlan... I... I can still go on!"
Arlan watched him, a frown deepening on his bronze face. He had expected Hiroshi, a high-ranking department head, to quit the moment things got difficult. Instead, Hiroshi had begged for more intensity.
"Why must you undergo such grueling training?" Arlan asked. "With your status and the protection of Miss Asta and Madam Herta, you shouldn't have a worry in the world."
"Because..." Hiroshi panted, his vision blurring. "I want to be able to protect the people I care about. I don't want to just be a burden."
Deep down, Hiroshi knew this world was fragile. He had the Demon Blade Thousand Blades, but without the skill to wield it, it was just a beautiful paperweight. He needed to be able to seize his own destiny.
Arlan felt a surge of respect. He had seen many guards dodge training, but here was a civilian official working harder than any of his recruits.
"Haste makes waste," Arlan said, his voice softening. "Pushing further today will only cause injury. We stop here. We continue tomorrow."
A wave of relief and joy washed over Hiroshi. Arlan was going to keep teaching him. If I can master the blade and combine it with my teleportation... I'll finally be able to stand on my own two feet.
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