"The most common way to seek an answer from the Aeon of Erudition is simply to travel to the star region where the Mechanical Head resides, and ask Them directly."
Herta's gaze seemed to pierce straight through the walls, toward the far reaches of the sea of stars.
"But to the Mechanical Head… although every question is accepted in full, the moment They understand it, the vast majority are filtered out and discarded—like background noise."
She lifted her chin slightly, speaking with the effortless pride of someone stating an obvious fact.
"An Emanator of Erudition is different. For example—me. If I ask a question, the Mechanical Head will process it one hundred percent. They will run logical inference on it, allocate computing power, and actually think through it."
Herta let out a small sigh.
"But thinking doesn't mean answering. The Mechanical Head may still choose silence. So even for an Emanator like me, I won't necessarily receive a reply—unless…"
She paused, then enunciated every word with crisp certainty.
"Unless you forcibly establish a link with the Mechanical Head."
"So—Self-Coronation and the Perfect Scholar," Ruan Mei's voice cut in, cool and clear like spring water striking stone, neatly completing Herta's unfinished thought. "The road Rupert II failed to complete."
"Exactly." Herta's eyes flashed with approval, clearly pleased that Ruan Mei had followed her reasoning without missing a beat.
But then Ruan Mei's tone abruptly shifted—still calm, yet threaded with unmistakable bewilderment that punctured the lofty academic air.
"However—what does any of that have to do with you touching my leg right now?"
Ruan Mei sat in a wide chair, poised as always—elegant, aloof, like a statue carved from flawless jade.
And yet her long, slender legs were currently being hoisted up by Herta without the slightest courtesy and placed casually on the desk.
Herta propped one elbow on the tabletop, chin resting in her palm. Her other hand was openly—shamelessly—stroking and toying with Ruan Mei's calf.
"Hah."
Not only did Herta fail to stop, she gave a short, bright laugh, as if she weren't treating her friend's leg like a convenient fidget toy at all.
"Don't rush me. You need buildup."
Then her smile thinned into focus, fingers tracing lazy circles over Ruan Mei's skin as she spoke.
"Recently, one of those little brats from the Astral Express brought me something interesting—news about 'Mirror,' the one who fell at the very last instant before ascending. Mirror created a temporary Path of the Heart, and its core ability is to forcibly establish links between people."
"In fact, before this, I'd already referenced the theory of Self-Coronation and designed an early prototype of an 'audience system.' Its core function was to force a direct audience with Nous across the interstice between Paths—so I could ask Them questions."
Her fingers slowed, as if she were rummaging through memory.
"At that time, the 'distance' between Nous and me was no longer physical. It became direct contact at the level of will. I could even sense certain sparks of Their thought process while They were thinking—without having to passively wait for an answer that might never come."
She tilted her head slightly, tone crisp and matter-of-fact.
"And since I, as an Emanator, can guarantee that my question will trigger Their computation… I could steal fragments of the answer from the process of Their thinking."
"That's extremely dangerous," Ruan Mei said, her cool voice arriving exactly on cue—carrying a trace of something so subtle it might have been imagined… concern.
"To forcibly draw the gaze of Nous—Even if you're an Emanator of Erudition, you won't enjoy that. The pure wash of Path power would shatter anyone with a weak will in an instant."
She paused.
"As for anyone nearby… they'd likely be reduced to ash the moment the link forms. No traces left. Not even the proof they ever existed."
Herta, sharp as ever, caught that faint irregularity in Ruan Mei's tone.
Her mouth curled into a sly arc, a little too pleased with herself, and she answered—almost gently, as if soothing rather than arguing.
"Right. That's why I shelved it. I've been squeezing my brain dry trying to refine it and lower the risk—though at this point, the system's almost at its technical limit."
Her hand stirred again, tugging Ruan Mei's legs a little closer so her palm could settle more firmly.
"But the Path of the Heart gave me a new angle."
"If I can use Mirror's remains as a relay medium, and combine it with my audience system to establish a short-lived Heart-link channel between me and Nous… then the risk drops to the minimum. For an Emanator like me, that level of mental load is basically negligible."
"Of course, anyone nearby would still be in danger," she added with a shrug. "We'll need a safe distance."
She stopped moving her hand—yet she still didn't remove it, leaving it resting on Ruan Mei's leg as if it belonged there.
Ruan Mei seemed to release a breath so faint it was almost imperceptible. But she clearly wasn't about to let Herta derail the topic. She pulled the conversation back by force, her calm questioning returning immediately.
"So. What does that have to do with you touching my leg?"
At last, Herta sobered properly.
"I was scanning and analyzing the residual energy signatures of the Path of the Heart across the cosmos, trying to reverse-engineer its operating principles," she said. "And I discovered something."
"To truly step onto that Path, the core lies in the person. You have to immerse yourself in a social network made of people before you can even approach 'Heart.'"
She raised one finger and pressed it lightly against Ruan Mei's leg, drawing slow lines as she spoke.
"Most people who walk the Path of the Heart do so via two completely different roads."
"The first road belongs to those who are born political animals—operators. They control hearts, manipulate hearts, even trample hearts. They turn human struggle and domination into fuel, and that becomes their Path."
Then Herta placed a second fingertip on Ruan Mei's leg. Her gaze softened—just a little—so subtly that even she might not have noticed it.
"The second road is genuine emotional resonance. Hearts crossing barriers, forming deep connection—understanding, even intertwining—and stepping onto the Path through that."
Ruan Mei tilted her head, a strand of hair sliding over her shoulder. Her cool eyes met Herta's directly.
"Strictly speaking," she said, "the first road should be the easiest for you. And the most efficient. Manipulating people isn't difficult for you."
It wasn't a question. It was simply a statement of fact.
Herta nodded without hesitation.
"Correct. The first road would be effortless for me. But…"
Her tone shifted. Her gaze sharpened and fixed on Ruan Mei—so frank it felt almost scorching.
"I prefer the second road."
Herta leaned forward, shrinking the distance between them.
"You know me. I've always considered 'inefficient socializing' a waste of time—pure murder of my lifespan. That's why I built all those Herta puppets to work for me, cutting the problem off at the root."
Her hand slid higher, brazenly pinching the soft flesh of Ruan Mei's thigh.
"But if I want to research the Path of the Heart, I have to form a connection with someone. So…"
She dragged out the last word, her eyes landing meaningfully on Ruan Mei—while the hand on her thigh gave another light squeeze.
Ruan Mei stared at that hand, then sighed quietly.
Suspicion lingered in her gaze as it drifted over Herta's mischievous smile. In the end, however, she only turned her face slightly away—neither stopping her nor moving her legs.
She simply allowed it.
Right then, a female voice—laced with faint electronic static and casual irreverence—cut into the delicate atmosphere.
"Yo. Am I interrupting something?"
A hazy hologram formed out of countless streams of blue data.
Silver Wolf—goggles on, bubblegum in her mouth—stood with arms crossed, watching the two of them in their not-at-all-innocent posture, a grin that screamed I live for drama.
Herta's hand froze.
The softness in her expression vanished, replaced by immediate annoyance. With obvious irritation at having her "good thing" disrupted, she shoved Ruan Mei's legs off the desk and set them back on the floor, withdrawing the hand that had been "researching" the entire time.
She looked up and glared at the hologram.
"Punklorde's little brat. Here to pick a fight again? What—did you recover all seventy-six of the game accounts I banned this time? Getting better, are we?"
Her tone carried undisguised threat.
Silver Wolf sighed theatrically and popped a virtual bubble.
"Geez, Herta. Don't be so mad. I'm not here for personal beef today. It's work. Well… kind of work."
She spread her hands.
Herta arched an eyebrow. Curiosity flickered across her eyes—thin, but real.
"I don't recall having any 'work' to discuss with the Stellaron Hunters."
That, at least, meant she wasn't shutting the door.
Silver Wolf didn't bother with detours.
"You've probably heard from Firefly's side already, yeah? Kafka recently contacted a… someone. A powerhouse from outside the universe. And that existence created Mirror."
Ruan Mei, who had been quietly watching, had her cool eyes brighten.
"The one who eliminated the Entropy Loss Syndrome of the Glamoth Iron Cavalry and turned them into perfect 'insect-humans'?" she asked, her voice carrying a rare hint of interest.
Silver Wolf shrugged, sounding like she was complaining about a friend who'd fallen hopelessly in love.
"Yeah. And after that, Firefly basically ditched us old friends and went off to stick to 'Star.' Totally lovesick. Tragic."
Herta's interest finally ignited for real.
She sat up straighter. In her deep eyes, curiosity flared like an open flame.
To every genius of the Genius Society, curiosity was the first engine.
Curiosity was why they questioned Nous.Curiosity was why they wanted to know how Nous thought.Curiosity was why Herta had been pulling Ruan Mei into this Path-of-the-Heart nonsense in the first place.
Any irritation at being interrupted was instantly swallowed by the pull of "knowledge from outside the universe."
"So?" Herta's voice sharpened, now fully hooked.
She narrowed her eyes, studying Silver Wolf with hungry expectation.
"What does this 'powerhouse' have to do with you barging in to ruin my mood?"
Silver Wolf looked pleased with herself, planting her hands on her hips.
"You know… everybody's got something they're bad at. Even a guy that strong."
She paused, giving the words weight.
"He's helping friends in another world right now. They hit a problem—tech-related. And when it comes to tech…"
Her tone shifted into something that sounded, surprisingly, like genuine acknowledgment.
"You're one of the top-tier geniuses in this universe. So we recommended you to him."
"Other-world knowledge?" Herta's eyes gleamed so brightly it was almost physical.
She didn't hesitate for even half a second.
"Fine. I'm in. Where do we meet?"
"Anywhere," Silver Wolf answered cheerfully. "You decide."
"Pick a time. I'll send your coordinates to him, and he'll teleport directly. Just be ready."
The control room returned to silence—but the atmosphere had changed completely.
Herta spun toward Ruan Mei.
The excitement still burned in her eyes, but when she looked at Ruan Mei, the heat softened into something gentler—something that asked a question without words.
Ruan Mei had already stood, smoothing her clothing.
Her expression was back to its usual calm, but Herta could see it clearly: behind those cool eyes, the same curiosity was burning—about a being who could create Mirror, who could solve the Glamoth problem.
Then Ruan Mei spoke first, voice even.
"Shall I prepare some pastries for when you return?"
Something warm struck Herta straight in the chest.
She knew Ruan Mei too well.
That seemingly casual line meant Ruan Mei was suppressing her own curiosity—so Herta could go, unburdened, and focus. So she could make the best possible first impression on that mysterious outsider.
She's thinking of me.
Joy and warmth bubbled up inside Herta, and her lips curved into a bright smile she couldn't hide.
A powerful impulse rose—bring Ruan Mei along.
But caution, and respect for the unknown, ultimately won.
Until she understood the other party's temperament and stance, going alone was the safest option.
So Herta swallowed the invitation and nodded at Ruan Mei with a radiant grin.
"Alright. Wait for me."
Ruan Mei inclined her head in acknowledgment and turned to prepare the pastries, leaving behind a faint, cool scent like plum blossoms.
Herta Space Station — Core Laboratory
Countless precision instruments blinked with colored indicator lights. Massive holographic screens floated in midair, displaying labyrinthine graphs and models.
Herta waited.
Three minutes later, two figures appeared in the center of the lab without warning.
"Whoa!"
A delighted gasp spilled from Ling's mouth.
The moment she landed, her bright, curious eyes were immediately seized by the technology in the laboratory—machines and displays so far beyond anything she'd seen that she practically forgot to breathe.
Before coming here, she'd first transferred to the Stellaron Hunters' ship to greet Kafka.
The ship's décor had stunned her—dark wood paneling, soft classical lighting, oil paintings on the walls—everything exuded restrained elegance and old-world taste, perfectly matching Kafka's mysterious, composed aura. High-tech elements existed—seamless embedded screens and smart systems—but they felt like accents, not the centerpiece.
Like a soup advertised as "beef-flavored"—aromatic and rich—yet you could search the ingredient list ten times and still not find actual beef.
Herta's lab, by contrast, was pure technological storm.
A brutal, forceful kind of sci-tech aesthetics.
Ling felt like her eyes weren't enough.
Herta's gaze flicked to Ling first. Seeing her wide-eyed awe, Herta's brow lifted slightly—barely.
She'd seen that reaction countless times. A genius's creations always enthralled ordinary people.
Then her focus shifted to the presence beside Ling—
Eisen.
This man… was ordinary to the point of being suspicious.
His face had no memorable features. His five senses were arranged as if according to a "maximum generic" template. Throw him into a crowd and he'd vanish instantly.
Herta thought that remembering his face might be about as hard as remembering the face of a "silent lord."
"You need my help with something?" Herta asked, crisp and direct—no greetings, no padding.
Even facing a being who could create a Path-level entity like Mirror and cross universal boundaries at will, she couldn't be bothered with pleasantries.
Eisen clearly wasn't surprised. Kafka and Silver Wolf had already warned him what Herta was like.
He nodded calmly and stepped half a pace aside, presenting the girl next to him.
"Yes. I'm Eisen. This is my friend Ling. She's run into some technical problems and wants your advice."
His voice, like his appearance, was strangely unremarkable.
Ling snapped out of her equipment-fueled trance. She straightened immediately and bowed deeply, her voice bright and sincere.
"Yes, Sister Herta! Thank you so much for being willing to help us!"
Herta gave a small nod—accepting the thanks without ceremony—and waited.
Eisen didn't waste time. He raised his left hand, palm up.
There was no visible energy surge.
And yet a black vortex—so deep it seemed to swallow light itself—silently formed in the center of his palm.
Then, under Ling's held breath, Eisen's right hand reached into that darkness.
When he pulled it back out, he was holding… something strange.
It was pure white, shaped like a flame—yet far more ethereal than fire.
It gave off no heat. Instead, it carried a hollow, bone-deep chill.
It wasn't made of burning particles. It was composed of drifting white mist—threads that moved like living things, tangling, rising, glowing faintly with a clean, delicate light.
Herta's gaze locked onto it instantly. Her pupils tightened a fraction.
She stared at the curling white haze, feeling the essence within it—something fundamentally alien to the rules of this universe.
After a brief silence, two words left her lips.
"A soul."
In the Star Rail worldview, death is an end. There is no verified "afterlife," no confirmed "soul."
Sure, if someone insisted on calling those distorted "blood-sin spirits" produced under the influence of IX "souls," Herta would shrug and let them cope however they pleased.
But this was different.
This felt eerily close to the "soul" described in old fantasy stories.
So the power system of another universe really did contain surprises worth savoring.
"Yes. A soul," Eisen confirmed.
He held the white flame out to her.
"I sealed the information about that world—and the problem we're facing—inside this soul. Crush it, and you'll absorb the contents."
Herta didn't hesitate.
She reached out and took the white flame from Eisen's palm.
The moment her fingertips touched it, she didn't feel heat or cold—she felt a peculiar pulse that ran straight into cognition itself.
She didn't suspect a trap.
If Eisen wanted to harm her, someone at that level wouldn't bother with something so roundabout. Any "caution" would be a joke in the face of absolute disparity.
Herta closed her fingers.
Pop.
A tiny sound—like a bubble bursting.
The white flame shattered and dissolved in her palm, breaking into countless fine points of light that slipped into her skin.
Boom.
A vast stream of information detonated inside her mind—then was immediately organized, parsed, and filed away.
There was no pain, no overload.
It flowed in like an ordered current, pouring into Herta's thought with terrifying efficiency.
And her thinking accelerated to a brutal extreme.
She saw a silent starfield—stars merely a cold backdrop, devoid of life.
All information centered on one blue planet.
She understood what the Origin was. What Hollows were. What Ether was.
And she understood that this seemingly ordinary girl, Ling, carried a faint trace of something belonging to a creator—a trait that made her an "anomaly" the Origin must erase, and also made her the one who repeatedly hit the reset button before the world was completely devoured, trapping reality in an endless loop.
Eisen's plan was to rewind the entire world-line from the outside, severing the threat of Ling being discovered.
But then came the absurd detail—
Eisen's perfectionism, his compulsive insistence on the "clean solution," had flared.
He wanted a truly independent power source inside the painted world after the rewind—one that did not rely on extracting Ether from Hollows at all, leaving no traces that could be tracked or exploited.
And here was the catch:
Within the world's own tech framework, the only viable energy source was Ether extracted from Hollows, then converted and stabilized. The entire civilization's technological tree was built around that assumption.
Under that framework, building a sufficiently powerful energy system that was fully independent of Hollows was almost a paradox. Existing models and material limits offered no clear path.
Additionally, Eisen's memory carried a crucial constraint:
Because the underlying laws differ between worlds, you cannot simply bring Ether resources into Star Rail space for research. At best, they would lose their unique properties and become useless. At worst, they could trigger rule conflicts—violent annihilation, even catastrophic explosion.
So the only safe approach was information transfer.
Likewise, Star Rail technology entering that world could also fail.
Within her accelerated cognition, Herta shattered that world's entire science base into pieces—reassembled it, optimized it, pushed it to its limits—purely from information.
To the outside world, the whole process lasted only the length of a breath.
Herta opened her eyes. The rapid flow of informational light in her gaze faded, and she returned to her usual composed calm.
"I've basically understood everything," she said evenly.
Eisen seeking her out across worlds to solve what looked like a "small" problem didn't strike her as absurd.
On the contrary, it felt natural.
A truly powerful being no longer "adapts" to the world—they make the world bend around their will. Anything that obstructs them isn't something to endure. It's something to solve—completely.
That relentless pursuit of the perfect solution… that "compulsion"… was a trait many who stood at the peak shared.
Herta looked at Eisen and began her analysis.
"Even if I personally went to your world, under the restriction of using only that world's Ether tech framework, I still couldn't fully resolve the Hollow crisis—or the Origin behind it."
She emphasized restriction.
"Ether energy may appear to be merely planetary-scale fuel, but within your world's hierarchy, its 'rank' is extremely high—almost equivalent to Imaginary energy in ours."
Her gaze swept to Ling, who was now so tense her fists were clenched.
"Even with that small shard of creator authority, all she can do is forcibly restart before the world is completely devoured—dragging everything into an endless cycle. In essence, that world is fated for destruction."
Then Herta's tone shifted.
"However, with you—an external force—intervening, that fate may be rewritten."
She spread her arms elegantly, like a conductor initiating a grand performance.
In the empty space between them, a vivid blue planet hologram appeared—Ling's world.
The image zoomed rapidly, locking onto New Eridu.
Across the map, countless writhing dark-red spheres—Hollows—pulsed like malignant sores on the surface of the world.
"The independent energy problem you're stuck on is actually very easy to solve," Herta said, calm and in control.
She extended a finger and tapped one small Hollow on the projection.
The red sphere abruptly collapsed as if bitten by an invisible maw, disappearing completely within seconds—leaving behind a massive crater on the map.
"I can design a device that fully absorbs the Ether energy contained in a small Hollow within twenty seconds, and stores it stably. That becomes your independent power supply."
"But it's not free."
Her finger moved to the crater.
"A Hollow is, in essence, a wound—an incision where the Origin's power has eroded reality. If you forcibly rip out its internal energy in an instant, the wound will resist violently."
"It will try to 'heal'—and its method of healing is to convert everything within and around it—rock, soil, buildings, even air—into new Ether energy to refill the loss."
"In other words, the region around the Hollow will be erased. Completely."
The crater on the map spoke of annihilation without sound.
"And that's not all," Herta continued flatly.
"Such violent extraction and spatial erasure will cause enormous disturbance to local space structure."
She tapped again. The projection warped. Space twisted around the crater.
Then—instantly—seven or eight new Hollows, larger and more grotesque than the first, erupted at the crater's edges and ballooned outward, swallowing the surrounding districts. The map's city segments were rapidly drowned in dark red.
Ling sucked in a sharp breath and covered her mouth.
Even knowing the rewind would reset everything, seeing that chain reaction visualized still felt suffocatingly terrifying.
"So yes. The plan causes significant spatial trauma and secondary disasters," Herta concluded as if stating a mundane lab result.
"But it is sufficient for your core requirement."
"After the rewind, all the consequences—spatial scars, secondary Hollows, erased regions—will not exist. Meanwhile, the Ether energy from a complete small Hollow, once safely stored, is absolutely enough to sustain your consumption."
"And it will be a true independent energy source—completely severed from Hollows."
Eisen nodded slightly, satisfaction appearing in his eyes.
Simple. Efficient. Cost controlled. It fit his one-step perfectionism perfectly.
Ling, too, found it horrifying but practical.
"Looks like you're both satisfied," Herta said, catching their reactions with ease, her tone faintly smug.
She waved, wiping the projection away.
Then she lifted her hand again.
This time, it wasn't holographic.
Countless tiny material particles appeared out of thin air, shimmering with pale silver light. They surged together, stacking, shaping, emitting a soft hum like precision machinery.
Within a few breaths, a metallic sphere—about a meter in diameter—was "printed" into existence, hovering in midair. Its surface was smooth, cold, and silver-gray, with faint energy tracery flowing across it like living circuitry.
"This is a prototype device I fabricated from universal materials that exist in both frameworks you provided," Herta said, pointing at the sphere.
With a flick of her fingers, a glowing virtual list appeared in front of Eisen.
"Once you return to that world, gather the base materials on this list and activate the device. It will self-replicate and build the core mother unit. After the mother unit is complete, it will automate mass production until it manufactures the terminal apparatus capable of directly draining Ether from an entire Hollow."
"And once the energy problem is solved," she added, "that AI—Fairy—under near-infinite power supply is effectively unbeatable in the network realm."
"As for the real world…"
Her eyes returned to Eisen.
"With you there, you don't need extra tech to deal with some corporation."
She gave a small, contemptuous curve of the lips.
"Power is the most universal language."
Then she looked at Ling.
"After that, as long as you properly develop this kid's creator trait, you can satisfy any needs yourselves."
Because of the differences in underlying physical rules—and because she didn't have the right materials on hand—Herta couldn't simply hand them finished equipment outright.
But to someone like Herta, that was nothing more than a small detour.
With Eisen's detailed information, reverse-deriving and designing an adapted solution was effortless.
Eisen and Ling stared at the hovering sphere, stunned.
For Ling, it was nothing less than a miracle—matter-from-nothing, self-replication, automated production—beyond anything her world's tech had ever shown her.
Even Eisen—experienced as he was—couldn't help a flicker of genuine surprise.
This was his first time seeing technology that "convenient."
Collect materials, activate, let it build the rest—brutal efficiency.
A thought even crossed his mind: with Herta's intellect and this level of tech, solving the Hollow crisis and defeating the Origin might require luck… but if she ever decided to burn everything down first, to annihilate the world before the Origin could—she probably could.
"Perfect," Eisen said, breaking the silence, the praise in his voice unforced.
He looked at Herta, and though his face remained strangely unmemorable, his gaze was sincere.
"Herta, your mind is impressive. As thanks—do you have anything you want me to do for you?"
Herta's pale fingers lifted to her chin out of habit, her delicate face settling into a thoughtful look.
In just minutes, this "outsider" had been… unexpectedly easy to deal with. No arrogance, efficient communication, and a clear sense of exchange.
It felt comfortable.
"Originally, I wasn't going to ask for any compensation," Herta said calmly.
"For me, satisfying curiosity is the best reward. And the other-world information you brought already did that."
"But…"
She paused, then continued with blunt honesty.
"Since you offered—there are things I need right now."
Herta lacked nothing material. Knowledge, resources—at her level, "difficulty" no longer existed on the physical plane.
Her true pursuits were problems that still had teeth—and the pleasure of solving them herself.
The two biggest ones on her table were:
One: continuously expanding and refining the Simulated Universe.Two: using the Path of the Heart to establish a link with Nous.
She knew Eisen was the creator of Mirror.
If she asked him for fragments of Mirror's remains—or even asked him to elevate her directly to a star-god-like level…
He might very well have the ability to do it.
But Herta would never say such words.
To her, that would kill the fun. It would delete the challenge that made the question worth living for.
A true powerhouse doesn't accept handouts from another powerhouse.
If she wanted something, she would take it herself.
So, strictly speaking, there was nothing she personally wanted from Eisen.
Her road—she would walk it through.
Herta's lips curved faintly, as though she'd recalled something mildly amusing.
If she set aside her personal academic pride, though… there was a need.
Not for herself.
For a certain… friend.
She cleared her throat and looked Eisen in the eye.
"I have a friend," she said. "She has… a rather intense interest in the field of life research…"
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 178)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 150)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League ( 126 )
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter190)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter105)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter222)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 77
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 190
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 170
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass Volume2/5
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 215
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 65
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 200
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 154
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player Volume4/30
The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 115
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 67
Uma Musume: From Beginner 130
Becoming a Horse Girl, I Will 85
Uma Musume: I Want All 105
I Can Copy Unique Skills 100
Summoning an Evil God, but the 70
Supernatural Multiverse 90
My Harem Is Indescribable 85
Jujutsu Kaisen: Heroic Spirit 90
"I'm just a Valkyrie passing through." 68
Uma Musume: Today Is Another Romantic Battlefield 81
Still playing traditional Honk 69
The Most Filial Son Under Heav 65
What Should I Do After Switchi - Volume2/3
Reincarnated as a Demon, Skill 60
Hell-Difficulty Dungeon? 55
Transmigrated as Sukuna 61
Checking In in Demon Slayer 65
The Reincarnating Trainer of Tracen Academy 80
I Refuse to Become a Heroic 66
My Best Friend Into a Slime? 58
A Saiyan Stands Above Marvel 65
What Do You Mean by Using a Lab Mod to Be the Hero? 63
Tanya Starts from Re:Zero 59
Why did they assign me to Uma 55
MYGO Beauties 56
DanMachi: Emiya the Giant Hero 45
The Gacha Merchant Who Started 49
Honkai's Otherworld? Wait—Who Are You People?! 36
Emiya Shirou, Determined to Slay Every Curse and Evil Spirit 15
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