Honkai Star Rail: I must live a peaceful life

In the workshop, Milo lounged casually in his recliner. The ceiling above, specially designed for the workshop, had retracted to allow sunlight to shine directly on him.

He held a stack of newspapers in his hands—the most widely circulated tabloids from the past two years. Though they tended to exaggerate facts for shock value, there was still plenty of substance beneath their sensational style.

As he skimmed through the major events of the past two years, he couldn't help but notice how many of them were connected to him.

The band he'd first stayed with now only had its lead singer left, who had become a famous vocalist. He wondered whether his former seniors who had looked after him had retired after marriage or perished in the purge against cult activities.

The small organization that had laid down the foundational framework had grown into a behemoth in the shadows, capable of claiming responsibility for certain incidents. At least three members must have reached Tier 4. It wouldn't be surprising if he was the only one still at Tier 3, given that he was the youngest of the group. The others were all geniuses; even without enlightenment, they could force their way through advancement through sheer persistence.

Milo put down the newspaper. To be fair, while these tabloids weren't reliable, they were quite entertaining with their excellent writing style and dramatic plot twists.

Folding the newspaper and placing it on the side table, Milo closed his eyes to contemplate the unfinished framework from before his escape. He had no plans to advance his tier.

After reaching the pinnacle of Tier 3, one arrives at a state where further advancement seems impossible. In the supernatural hierarchy of the chaotic territories, Tier 3 is known as "Bonfire"—nearly the pinnacle of individual achievement. The path forward ends here; to advance further and reach the realm of "Beacon" requires only a mindset that breathes in harmony with heaven and earth.

Tier 4 knows heaven, Tier 5 knows self—both are states of mind that cannot be forced. Milo currently had no inspiration regarding the path to advancement. It was like reaching an endless wall with no visible opening; he could only rely on time to slowly explore and enumerate possibilities.

With these thoughts, Milo reached for some desserts from the side table and began eating them slowly.

The desserts were gifts from Miss Jessica. These days, his mysterious neighbor seemed to have truly settled into a routine, alternating between tending to flowers, gardening, and baking desserts. On weekends, she would go to Church 128 to listen to the pastor's sermons, though she clearly wasn't taking them to heart.

Otherwise, given her tier recognition, even with the poorest aptitude, she should have been illuminated by Holy Radiance by now.

Today's desserts showed increasingly mature technique, but one could clearly taste the experimental nature of them. While the array of colorful pastries looked absolutely perfect on the outside, what flavors lay within was purely a matter of luck.

After all, even if one wasn't an heir to the Dark Cuisine lineage, testing new recipes was still largely a game of chance. Miss Jessica certainly wasn't willing to be the first taster.

Milo didn't mind though. Ever since he'd broken free from his previous life of multitasking and constant busyness, he'd developed something of an overcorrection, becoming quite the lazy dog. He was more than happy to enjoy free food and drinks.

Though there were occasional dessert assassins with questionable taste, Miss Jessica didn't have the talent for Dark Cuisine. Even at her worst, she couldn't score below zero.

He took a bite of a green pastry with a fresh aroma. It had a woody astringency—apparently an improved version of the grass cake. This local specialty with its polarizing reputation hadn't quite reached its intended form after modification, and had even lost its original soft texture.

Fortunately, while the quality of new products fluctuated, the overall trend was upward. However, until Miss Jessica finalized a version, everything was subject to reforging, making it difficult to predict the next iteration's quality. After all, there had been instances of cliff-like drops in quality before.

Controlling the metal plate nailed to the garden wall to change its text and leave feedback, Milo still finished the bitter and astringent dessert peacefully.

Though he had some suggestions for improvement, considering he wasn't a professional, he dismissed the thought.

Since he was already enjoying free food and drinks, it was better not to be too critical.

"Are you the workshop master here?" A harsh voice rang out from the doorway. A woman stood there, her tone carrying one part impatience, three parts questioning, and six parts resigned attempt.

"I am. Are you here for a commission or repairs?" Milo sat up straight and inquired.

"This... can you fix it?" The short-haired woman produced a sparking mechanical cube, its surface covered in intermittent glowing blue patterns. The corners were marked with scorch marks and minor damage. While it appeared mostly intact on the outside, the internal damage was likely more severe.

Milo's expression slightly froze—this style looked oddly familiar.

Damn, isn't this the Imperial standard capital-exclusive model!?

He could recognize the standard academic approach at a glance. The subtle stylistic details were characteristic of those scholars from the Larwin Institute. Only they could achieve such ruthlessly efficient reinforcement within the framework while maintaining such a complete lack of distinctive features.

Could it be that my identity has been exposed? Milo instinctively felt alarmed, but relaxed after a careful examination.

This was a model from over a decade ago, which meant the visitor definitely wasn't sent by his former employer to drag him back to endless exploitation.

That being the case, Milo's expression shifted from unconscious tension to relief, and he nodded casually.

"I can repair it. It will take about half a month. Rush service is double the fee, and optimization after repairs is another double charge."

"The price list is by the door. Please choose according to your means." Milo's tone was calm and gentle.

"I'll come to check it in a week. Strengthen its durability and sturdiness."

The woman at the door boldly paid four times the price and left without looking back, apparently quite busy.

Milo made a symbolic gesture to call her back, then hesitated. He seemed to have forgotten to mention that the doubling meant adding one time the base price, not multiplying by two.

Milo fell into contemplation... should he tell her that the speed multiplier wasn't limited to just once?

Although the quoted time was two weeks, he could actually complete these tasks in three days, or even a day and a half if he rushed.

But never mind, there wasn't much point in rushing.

Milo fell back into his lounge chair. The mechanical cube left on the table autonomously disassembled and reconstructed itself, hovering in mid-air, its components with deliberate gaps forming the shape of a mechanical greatsword.

Above, it was covered in battle scars, with occasional bursting electric arcs like blood flowing from a wounded body.

End of Chapter