Astral Express
Sunday was pulled aside by Welt into a corner of the observation car.
“Let me state this upfront: regardless of your identity, I don't object to your joining.”
Welt pushed up his glasses, his tone calm, but his eyes held a scrutinizing gaze.
Sunday, who appeared somewhat sickly and delicate at the moment, did not show any surprise.
“I understand your concerns. You may ask me anything, and I will do my best to provide answers that reassure you.”
Welt pondered for a moment, then calmly asked:
“How did you escape your family's control?”
Sunday sighed, his eyes dimming slightly.
“It's rather shameful to admit, but it was that envoy from the Company; he provided me with a little help.”
Welt nodded; this reason did not come as a surprise to him.
“The Company doesn't act without profit. What did you give in return?”
Sunday's gaze lowered, a flicker of reluctance in his eyes… “I lost the courage to bid her farewell with my true face…”
Welt's brows furrowed slightly, but then relaxed.
“Is it Miss Robin?”
Although Welt phrased it as a question, his tone betrayed his inner speculation.
Sunday said nothing more, only letting out an almost imperceptible sigh.
Seeing his reaction, Welt became even more certain of his guess and decisively posed the next question.
“What is your specific purpose in boarding the Astral Express?”
Sunday composed himself, organized his thoughts for a moment, and then replied in a calm tone:
“My past self failed, but I will not stand still. However, before that, I need to find the right direction again.”
“So you chose the Astral Express?”
Sunday nodded, his eyes filled with sincerity, and his expression showed no flaws.
After scrutinizing him for a while, Welt asked his final question.
“You… wouldn't harm our companions on the Astral Express, would you?”
As this question was asked, Welt's gaze sharpened, fixing intently on Sunday.
“Of course not, I can guarantee it.”
Sunday did not back down, showing no flaws in either his tone or expression.
A moment later, Welt's expression relaxed, and he offered a slight smile.
“Welcome to the Astral Express.”
Sunday's lips also curved slightly upward, his tone calm and gentle.
“The pleasure is mine.”
Welt nodded, then reminded him:
“From now on, we are family; there’s no need to be so distant in how you address me.”
Sunday nodded, but then his brows furrowed slightly… “Uncle Yang…?”
As these two words came out, Welt was also stunned… “You don’t have to call me Uncle Yang.”
Sunday’s expression became even more troubled, then he squeezed out two more words.
“Brother… Yang?”
“That’s not what I meant. Just call me by my name.”
Welt was somewhat speechless at this point, but then he seemed to think of something? He asked with some uncertainty:
“You haven’t forgotten my name, have you?”
Hearing Welt’s question, Sunday’s expression also froze. He then tried to recall with his already muddled mind… “How could I, Yang…”
“Say it.”
Welt looked at Sunday opposite him, curious to see if he actually remembered his name.
Finally, Sunday managed to squeeze out a few words… “Mr. Teyvat Yang…”
“Forget it, that’s not my name.”
Welt’s mouth twitched slightly at this point. He then thought about it again; it must be because the other party had just joined the Astral Express and wasn't too familiar yet.
Later, if he treated him to a few cups of Himeko’s coffee, he should be able to remember his name.
“Just call me Welt.”
Meanwhile, on Cybertron, far away from Penacony.
“I… I’m really alive again?”
Gallagher was somewhat bewildered and surprised at this moment.
But then he noticed something was off; he found his body… a bit hard?
“Are you satisfied with this body?”
“This is… mechanical?”
Gallagher tapped his chest, and a metallic clanging sound, “thump, thump,” echoed.
“Yes, I modeled it after that cowboy. It’s much stronger than a flesh body, and of course, the most crucial reason is that it’s simpler to build.”
Jiang Lin explained with a calm expression.
“Do you have a mirror?”
Before Jiang Lin could speak, a giant steel arm landed in front of Gallagher.
And in that steel arm, there was indeed a mirror.
Gallagher was stunned again, subconsciously looking at himself in the mirror.
Well, apart from an added metallic texture, he looked no different from his original self.
Even his iconic stubble was still there.
Gallagher gently touched it; the sensation was the same as before, quite magical.
But then he looked up and saw Megatron standing beside him.
“This is…?”
“I am Megatron.”
“A sentient machine?”
“You can think of it that way.”
Gallagher then looked at Jiang Lin, as he had said before that if he brought him back to life, he would work for him.
Jiang Lin naturally understood Gallagher’s meaning, so after careful consideration, he said:
“I’ve already told Megatron your basic information. From now on, you two are colleagues.”
Both parties nodded and said nothing more; the most important thing now was to hear what the boss had to say.
Jiang Lin continued:
“Your primary task is to conduct preliminary modifications to Cybertron. I have already given the modification plan to Megatron.”
“In a year at most, the entire planet will be completely transformed.”
Megatron guaranteed this at the moment. A year was a somewhat conservative estimate for him, mainly because he didn't know when the Company’s goods would arrive.
If the Company’s goods arrived now, he could select a batch of excellent equipment, imbue them with sparks, and turn them into his own kind. This would absolutely skyrocket work efficiency, perhaps even less than a year would be needed.
Jiang Lin nodded: “The task is entrusted to you. As for how you divide it, I won’t interfere.”
Gallagher suddenly remembered: where was his Mian Mian?
He clearly remembered that Mian Mian had also been collected by him, but could Mian Mian, who originated from the Memetic Weave, truly leave the dream?
He had already noticed by now that the Aether here was very thin, no different from a normal planet, completely unlike a place that could harbor Memetic Weave entities.
Thinking of this, Gallagher quickly spoke:
“Oh, I have one more thing.”
Jiang Lin paused slightly, seemingly having thought of something as well. He then smiled, putting on the appearance of a benevolent boss, and patted Gallagher’s shoulder.
“You want to talk about compensation, right? Don’t worry, the salary here is very high. But you just joined, so how about 4 million Credit Points per month?”
“I’m not…”
“Three days off per week, 4.5 system hours of work per day.”