Ironclad, died and resurrected, I've decided to go to the mic!

Black Tower Space Station, temporary memorial hall in the main control area.

This place was set up overnight by Estádio.

It was originally a spare meeting room, but the staff moved the tables away.

A long table covered with black velvet was placed in the very center.

There was a simple picture frame on the table.

The photo in the frame was taken on March 7th.

As Qi Ye faced the camera, the spotlight enveloped him in dazzling white light.

There was no body under the photo, nothing to bury, only a few odds and ends.

A fountain pen, a calculator, and a box of unopened ballpoint pens.

They were all taken from those two bags from before.

Xing said he had personally appraised these items and that they were more suitable for this place than fresh flowers.

On March 7th, he stood at the very front of the mourning hall, his eyes swollen and red.

She hasn't said a word since the ceremony began; she's just staring blankly at the photo.

Danheng stood half a step behind her, his face still full of self-reproach.

Himeko and Welt stood to one side, both with somber expressions.

Walter took off his glasses and wiped them again and again, while Himeko sighed repeatedly.

Estelle stood in front of the funeral hall, holding a speech in her hand.

"We, the entire staff of the Black Tower Space Station, would like to express our deepest gratitude and most profound condolences to Mr. Qiye."

If he hadn't shielded the space station's rooftop shield from the Doomsday Beast's laser, it would have been completely breached.

The main control area and even the entire space station will be exposed to a vacuum.

He protected us all with his life.

She lowered her head.

"As the station commander, I am deeply sorry for Mr. Suya's sacrifice."

It was our failure to provide sufficient firepower support, and our failure to predict the timing of the Doomsday Beast's attack.

On behalf of all members of the Black Tower Space Station, I extend my sincerest apologies to the Star Train.

Himeko shook her head:

"No, we are the ones who should apologize."

If we could have arrived a step earlier, if we hadn't let Qiye come to the space station alone with March 7th and Danheng.

Perhaps none of this would have happened; it was our failure to protect him.

Walter put on his glasses, but they couldn't hide his heaviness:

"Although Qiye is not a member of our Starry Sky Train, he is a good person."

He will rush in when it is most dangerous.

He claims to be just a businessman, but he does things no businessman would do.

Dan Heng didn't speak, but simply slammed the spear in his hand to the ground.

The butt of the gun struck the floor, making a resounding echo.

That voice, in the quiet memorial hall, was heavier than any words.

In a corner, several clerks were sobbing quietly.

The little girl clutched Estelle's clothes, her face streaked with tears.

"This older brother is a good person."

She said, sobbing.

"Although he looked like a thief carrying the bag, he was a good person."

Upon hearing this, March 7th finally couldn't hold back any longer.

She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling violently.

Just then, a young male clerk stood at the back of the crowd with his eyes closed.

He put his hands together in front of his chest and muttered some incantations.

He prayed earnestly, his voice low, but every word came from the bottom of his heart.

"May you rest in peace in another world, Mr. Hero Qiye."

Although we have never met, every living person on the space station will never forget you.

I hope they have an endless supply of compressed biscuits and an endless supply of new calculators over there.

A hand reached out from behind and patted him on the shoulder.

"Hey bro, what are you doing?"

The clerk was interrupted during his most devout prayer, and he felt a surge of anger.

Without turning his head, he shrugged and spoke with extreme impatience:

"What are you filming for! Can't you see I'm praying for the hero?"

Mr. Suya risked his life to save all of us.

If he hadn't destroyed the Doomsday Beast, neither you nor I would be standing here right now!

Don't just stand there, come and pray with us!

The person who patted him on the shoulder was silent for a moment, then walked around him and went to the front of the mourning hall.

Qiye looked at the portrait of himself in the very center.

I found that the filming was quite impressive.

He looked down again at the relics on the offering table:

A fountain pen, a calculator, a box of ballpoint pens, and half a pack of compressed biscuits.

He personally appraised all of these items.

His lips twitched.

Then he turned around and smiled at the still angry clerk.

When the clerk saw his face clearly, his eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

His expression changed from anger to shock, and from shock to seeing a ghost.

"You, you, you..."

"I'm who I am, no longer needing you."

Qi Ye raised her hand and pressed it down, signaling him to be quiet.

Then he turned around and scanned the entire memorial hall.

On March 7th, he was still crying with his face covered, while Xing stood beside him in a daze, not knowing what he was doing.

Dan Heng seemed to be using all his willpower to maintain the calmness on his face.

Walter was wiping his glasses, Himeko was silent, and Estella was quietly comforting the little girl.

No one noticed the little commotion that was happening in his corner.

"What good luck," Qi Ye murmured softly, "I never thought I'd be resurrected here again."

He turned around, under the horrified gaze of the young clerk.

With his hands clasped together, he bowed deeply to his own portrait.

He began to pray, even more devoutly than the clerk had been.

"Mr. Qiye, may you rest in peace in another world."

Remember to eat the compressed biscuits while they're still warm, even if they're within their shelf life.

After bowing for the third time, he straightened up and patted the clerk on the shoulder.

The clerk was completely petrified, his mouth agape.

"You're right, this hero certainly deserves our prayers."

Let's pray together; the heroes will protect you.

After finishing speaking, Qi Ye walked to the offering table, picked up the fountain pen, and casually put it into his pocket.

He then picked up the half-pack of compressed biscuits from the offering table.

I tore open the packaging, pulled out a piece, and stuffed it into my mouth, chewing it with a crunching sound.

The clerk behind him stood there, looking as if he had seen a ghost.