Collapse, but Stand users

The Trans-Siberian Railway, this cold, steel-forged artery, draws a monotonous and stubborn gray line across the boundless snowfield.

Toulong and Alicia walked along the hard snow road formed by the repeated crushing of wheels beside the sleepers, their footsteps making a regular "crunch-crunch" sound.

In the distance, a low, messy black dot gradually took shape in their field of vision—Novokamianka, an insignificant supply point marker on the map, and the first human settlement they encountered after leaving Vostok-51.

Even from a distance, a cacophony of odors carried on the biting wind. There was the pungent smell of burning cheap kerosene, the fishy stench of frozen and slightly thawing animal manure, and an indescribable, faint odor reminiscent of metallic rust mixed with a rotten, sweet scent.

This aura caused a very subtle fluctuation to flash deep within Toulong's gray eyes, instantly marking it as an abnormal odor spectrum, partially matching the characteristics of air samples from known Honkai energy-eroded areas.

The source is in the southeast, in an area suspected to be an abandoned mine.

Alicia wrinkled her small nose and subconsciously moved closer to Toru.

The smoke and pine scent of Vostok-51 seemed like a dream from a century ago. The scene before me became clearer as I drew closer: the crooked wooden houses looked like frozen drunkards, their roofs covered with thick, dirty snow; several tents, barely made of tattered tarpaulins and rusty iron sheets, shivered in the cold wind; and a few skinny stray dogs rummaged through the garbage heaps, emitting low whimpers.

The only slightly "vibrant" area was a small, muddy open space in the center, where crowds thronged, forming a temporary, chaotic black market.

Stepping into this area, an invisible pressure instantly enveloped her. Countless gazes, like a sticky spiderweb, were cast from all directions, firmly attached to Alicia. Her rare long pink hair stood out like a cluster of strange flames against the gray and dilapidated background, and her amethyst-like eyes were so clear that they seemed out of place here.

Curiosity, greed, lust, numbness… a variety of emotions intertwined on these ragged, dark-skinned, or swollen faces. Several homeless people leaning against the wall, wrapped in tattered blankets, had vacant eyes and unhealthy, ashen skin. Occasionally, they would twitch uncontrollably, emitting unintelligible hoarse sounds from their throats—signs of nervous system disorder and physical decay, possibly caused by early Honkai energy erosion.

The presence of Toulong was like a block of ice thrown into muddy water. His tall figure walked silently beside Ai Li, his gray eyes sweeping over the gazes cast upon him without any emotion.

Anyone caught in his gaze, whether a burly man with a face full of scars or a woman with cunning eyes, would subconsciously feel a strange palpitation, as if something invisible, cold and slippery had licked their spine, and would unconsciously look away or take a half step back.

The inhuman aloofness and tranquility emanating from him formed an invisible barrier, temporarily isolating him from the most direct malicious intrusion. Ellie gripped the hem of his dark gray coat tightly, her knuckles slightly white, her purple eyes warily scanning her surroundings. Vostok-51's innocence was shrouded in a thin, uneasy shell.

The need for supplies drove them to the busiest part of the black market. The air was thick with the pungent smell of sweat, cheap tobacco, and a cheap perfume. The stalls were piled with rusty tools, cracked earthenware pots, furs whose original color was unrecognizable, and even a few old hunting rifles in poor condition.

They stopped in front of a "boutique" stall made of broken wooden crates and faded tarpaulins. The stall owner was a lean, middle-aged man with greasy hair plastered to his scalp. His weasel-like eyes darted around, taking in Aili and Toulong, lingering particularly long on Aili's pink hair. He grinned in an exaggerated smile, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth.

"Hey! Rare guests! You two look unfamiliar, you must have come all this way!" His voice carried a deliberate enthusiasm, like a honey-coated knife. "What would you like to order? I have the most complete selection of Novokamcha!"

He deftly unfolded a thick, but roughly stitched, and unevenly stuffed cotton overcoat. "Look at this top-quality Bear Island cotton coat! Windproof and warm, absolutely fantastic! Just three of your food stamps, or..."

He rubbed his fingers together, his gaze drifting to the unassuming canvas bag on Toulong's back. "Something of equal value would do, like... honey? I can smell it, top-quality wild honey! Peter's craftsmanship is always top-notch!"

His gaze then fell on a small leather pouch hanging from Alicia's waist. It was a money pouch that Father Joseph had given them before he left, containing the meager savings that the townspeople had pooled together.

“We have maps too! The latest detailed map of the railway line, marking all safe havens and supply depots!” He magically produced a roll of yellowed paper and waved it in front of Ellie. The edges of the paper were badly worn, and the ink on it was blurry.

Ellie's purple eyes lit up. The map was too important to them. The two of them were currently using an old version of the map, and much of the information was already wrong.

She stepped forward, her little face serious: "We need a map and a good coat to keep warm. But your cotton coat..."

Her small hands touched the rough fabric and the bumpy stuffing. Even the clothes mended by Nurse Anna at Vostok-51 Hospital were finer. "The stitches are too loose, and the cotton is clumped together. It's not worth three food stamps at all! And this map," she pointed to several ink stains and blurry markings that were clearly added later, "it's all illegible here and here! How can this be considered a new map? At most... at most it's worth one and a half food stamps and a small jar of honey!"

The stall owner's smile froze instantly, a flash of annoyance and malice crossing his weasel-like eyes. "What does this little brat know?!" he suddenly raised his voice, spitting almost onto Ellie's face, and roughly shoved her shoulder. "If you don't know what you're missing, get lost! Don't waste my time..."

The word "意" got stuck in my throat.

Just as his fingers were about to touch Airi's shoulder, Tou Ryu, who had been silent as a rock, suddenly turned his gaze to him.

It wasn't an angry gaze, not even a ripple of emotion. It was just a pure, cold, focused stare, like a scanner focusing intently, with a fleeting, inhuman, inorganic light seemingly passing through the depths of its gray eyes. The stall owner felt as if he had been stripped naked and thrown into a frozen wasteland; a chill instantly shot from his tailbone to the top of his head, his outstretched hand froze in mid-air, and his blood seemed to freeze.

Toulong said nothing, but simply reached out and gently pulled Ai Li back to his side, shutting her out of the filthy hand. Then, he didn't look at the stall owner again, as if the other person were already a stubborn rock by the roadside.

The stall owner's face turned pale, the fear of being intimidated by that gaze quickly replaced by shame and anger at being publicly humiliated. He sheepishly withdrew his hand, muttering curses under his breath, and bent down to move a heavy-looking wooden box at his feet, seemingly trying to cover his embarrassment with his actions. "Damn it, bad luck… keep an eye on your little rascals…"

"Crack!"

A sharp, cracking sound of wood breaking rang out without warning. The seemingly sturdy wooden box bottom, the moment the stall owner applied force, shattered and collapsed in an eerie, solid piece, like a withered branch that had rotted for thousands of years.

The heavy, oil-paper-wrapped iron lump in the box tumbled out with a thud, its heavy, sharp edges striking his unsuspecting ankle squarely.

“Ouch——!!!”

A piercing, inhuman scream instantly ripped through the black market's cacophony. The stall owner, clutching his instantly twisted and deformed ankle, rolled and convulsed wildly on the cold, muddy ground like a fish out of water. The fake map spilled from his arms, pressed into the mud by his rolling body, while his cheap cotton coat rolled to the side, revealing clumps of blackened, hardened, inferior stuffing inside.

The surrounding noise fell silent instantly. Everyone was stunned by this sudden, tragic, and somewhat absurd "accident." Their gazes swept back and forth between the wailing stall owner and the silent strangers, filled with surprise and a hint of barely perceptible fear.

Alicia's face paled. She looked at the stall owner's contorted, pained face, then abruptly looked up at Toulong beside her. He remained standing calmly, his gray eyes fixed on the center of the chaos, his face expressionless, as if he were merely witnessing a tree branch break naturally in a snowstorm.

A chilling cold, more biting than the Siberian wind, instantly gripped Ellie's heart. Her small hands clenched tightly around Toru's clothes, her knuckles turning white from the force. Her voice trembled slightly, held so low that only Toru could hear it:

“Toryu… did you do this? That… ‘Unfortunate’?” She remembered the Honkai Beasts that died mysteriously in Vostok-51.

Toulong withdrew his gaze from the wailing stall owner and landed on Ai Li's purple eyes, which were filled with fear and a hint of understanding. His voice was calm and even, as if stating a physical law: "He intends to plunder, and calamity will befall the plunderer. This is an established law."

There was no denial. The cold logic, like a scalpel, dissected the cruel inevitability beneath the "accident."

Ellie's lips trembled slightly as she looked into Toulong's emotionless gray eyes, then at the stall owner writhing and howling on the ground, reaping the consequences of his greed. A fleeting sense of satisfaction flashed through her mind, only to be swallowed up by a deeper, colder worry. This power... so easily, so... terrifying.

“We…” her voice carried a barely perceptible plea, “Let’s get out of here quickly.”

Toulong nodded, not glancing at the chaos again. He led Ellie away like two silent shadows, quickly leaving the bustling yet suddenly deathly quiet Black City center and heading towards the desolate outskirts of the town.

On the edge of Novocamenka, near the abandoned mine area that exuded an ominous aura, the traces of Honkai energy erosion were even more pronounced: the land was a sickly grayish-purple, the sparse, withered grass twisted into bizarre shapes, and the cloying, stench of metallic rust mixed with decay in the air was even stronger. A few more dilapidated tents, like festering sores, were scattered here, the last refuge of the wanderers and the abandoned.

In a sheltered corner of a makeshift shack made of discarded mine cart planks and tattered plastic sheeting, they saw a girl.

She huddled in a pile of musty rags, her thin body like a dried leaf, barely showing any movement.

The skin of the hands and feet exposed outside the rags was a large area of ​​grayish-brown, covered with strange, spiderweb-like dark purple lines, and in some places even began to show fine ulcers, like the cracks in porcelain.

Her breathing was so weak it was like a thread, each breath accompanied by a painful hiss like a broken bellows. Her sunken cheeks framed large, lifeless eyes that stared blankly at the gray sky, the edges of her pupils glowing with an ominous, murky purple light.

In the late stages of Honkai infection, multiple organ failure and severe damage to the nervous system have resulted in a near-zero survival rate. The core of Toulong's consciousness instantly delivered this chilling diagnosis.

The shack was filled with an atmosphere of despair and death. Beside it, an equally emaciated old woman stood guard with numb eyes. When someone approached, she only slowly raised her eyelids before falling silent again.

Alicia stopped abruptly. The fear and chill from her black market encounter were instantly dispelled by the slowly fading life before her. Overwhelming grief and an indescribable impulse seized her.

She didn't even see through the dragon; her purple eyes were fixed on the dying girl, and she was about to rush over.

“Alissia.” Toru’s voice sounded behind him, flat and without any dissuasive tone, yet like an invisible gate, “Target individual: No effective intervention value. Honkai erosion level exceeds the critical threshold, reversal probability is zero. Contact carries the risk of unknown biological contamination. Behavior: Inefficient.”

He was simply stating objective facts, like analyzing a faulty part. Efficiency above all else, avoiding unnecessary losses—this is the ironclad rule of survival for the Stone Man.