The night was deep and quiet, and most of the facilities at the observation station had entered a low activity state.
The living structures slowly retracted their tentacles, emitting a gentle breathing sound like that of a baby.
Occasionally, a few eyeball-like monitoring organs would protrude from the walls.
Lazily scanning the corridors, ensuring that everything was safe, then retracting back into the stone walls.
Ron sat alone in the center of the laboratory, the magic crystal lamp on the table emitting a soft blue light.
In front of him, two memory crystals of different shapes lay quietly on silk cushions.
One of them (shaped like a light green leaf) had already been analyzed by him, gaining precious information about the ecology of the Twisted Jungle.
How those trees of flesh and blood devour life energy, how those malformed flowers spread spiritual toxins...
All this knowledge had been calmly recorded by him, integrated into his own research files.
Now it was the second one’s turn.
This memory crystal was shaped like a pale blue droplet, with a surface flowing with a shimmer like seawater.
When Ron held it up to the magic crystal lamp, the light inside began to slowly rotate, forming complex swirling patterns.
The light points seemed like fireflies trapped in amber, carrying an indescribable sorrow.
"Another tragic story, perhaps..."
He murmured to himself, his tone as indifferent as discussing the weather today.
The long-term cultivation of "Star Eater’s Ravings" had numbed him to these emotional fluctuations.
Those things that once could move him deeply were now firmly frozen under layers of rationale and logic.
Ron carefully extended his spiritual power into the depths of the crystal.
The boundaries of reality began to blur, and his consciousness was gently pulled into a stranger woman’s memory world.
I am Ali, twenty-four years old...
The voice of the memory’s owner echoed in the depths of consciousness, carrying a unique warmth.
That warmth was like the sunshine of an afternoon in spring, pure and unguarded.
Ron could feel her every emotional wave, experiencing her ordinary yet fulfilling life.
This inn is the inheritance left by Father for Tom and me...
The scenes in the memory were so real and delicate:
The small inn was located on the edge of Ashen Town, a two-story wooden building.
Although its appearance was simple, every detail showed the owner’s care.
Handmade ceramic pots with unknown small flowers on the windowsill.
Under the influence of abyss radiation, the flowers presented a strange yet beautiful purple, like the brightest star in the night sky.
Ali always wore the floral apron left by Mother, busy in the inn.
She would place handmade cushions in every room, put a bouquet of wildflowers by the guest’s bed, remember what kind of tea each explorer liked to drink...
"They need more than just sleep."
She gently smoothed the clean sheets, her eyes full of tenderness: "They need a... sense of home."
Ron felt this simple goodwill, yet his heart remained unmoved.
This emotion was too distant for him, like watching someone else’s life through thick glass.
He even began to calculate how much extra cost this "uncompensated kindness" would bring to the inn’s operation...
Every dusk, I would stand at the door, watching those brave explorers approaching from afar...
At sunset, Ali always stood in the small garden at the inn’s entrance.
Her figure in the blood-red sky seemed so small, yet so determined.
Explorers about to step into the abyss approached from a distance.
Some with serious expressions, others pretending to be relaxed, but fear and determination mixed in everyone’s eyes.
Just like when Tom left...
The scene switched, and a young man’s figure appeared in the memory.
That was Ali’s brother Tom, an eighteen-year-old youth.
He had a bright smile and a stubborn chin, carrying pathetically simple equipment, yet his eyes burned with a desire for adventure.
"Sister, I’ll definitely come back safe!"
Tom hugged Ali, his voice carrying that unique impulse of youth:
"Once I earn enough money, we’ll move to the Central Lands, open a bigger inn! Then you won’t have to work so hard!"
Ali smiled while seeing her brother off, but Ron could feel the unease deep within her.
It was an indescribable premonition, like an invisible hand lightly squeezing her heart.
Impulsive, foolish, unrealistic...
In the depths of his consciousness, Ron calmly evaluated Tom’s choice.
This reckless behavior seemed to him devoid of any rationality.
With Tom’s capability and equipment, entering the abyss exploration was akin to suicide.
But his emotions were as still as dead water, as if this was merely a data case unrelated to him.
Time quickly passed in the memory.
One day, one week, one month...
Ali would stand at the inn’s entrance every day, gazing in the direction of the abyss.
Her expression changed from expectation to worry, worry to despair.
The once bright smile gradually became forced, the vitality in her voice slowly faded.
Other explorers returned one after another, some with scars, some in a trance, some missing arms or legs, but none were the person she was waiting for.
"Tom? Do you know Tom? Brown hair, loves to smile..."
Ali clung to each returning explorer, asking.
Her fingers unconsciously twisted the edge of her apron, a habitual action when she was nervous.
But what she received were always shaking heads and sympathetic looks.
Three months... Tom had been gone for three months without any news...