Ironclad Group Chat: Red and Black Lists Engraved with Heroic Epics

[Yao Guang: I can't see how he's going to win on Sunday. Even if he brings out the Qi Xiang Choir, they're just a messenger. Once the train shoots off like an arrow, the entire Pinocchio might be razed to the ground by the connections he's built up. Then, Mr. Watchmaker can freely unleash his planning talent and let the devastated Pinocchio reap a huge harvest of reconstruction profits. But, I did some divination...]

[March 7th: You, you're not thinking, "Another extremely auspicious day," are you?]

Why do the fortune tellers only give auspicious divination results? Shouldn't people in this line of work always give bad divination results, then scare customers with exaggerated warnings before overcharging them?

Why is this different from the ones I've encountered before... cough cough?

[Yao Guang: No, this time, Mr. Sunday's fate is unpredictable!]

[Fu Xuan: Huh?!]

On Sunday, Himeko calmly responded to his tough stance: "Even if we must make enemies of all you nameless guests, it's only me and the Oak family. But we haven't reached that point yet, have we?"

"Everyone has seen how hard you've all worked for justice for Pinocone."

Xing said sternly, "Stop beating around the bush and get to the point."

On Sunday, he nodded, happy to turn enemies into friends: "Pinocchio and this universe have witnessed far too much innocent bloodshed. The strong wield their swords against the weak, the victors push the lives of the vanquished to their end..."

"Natural selection—the world follows this law, building the well-being of all mankind on the remains of the weak."

His tone easily revealed his resentment, but when he mentioned those two words, he pressed his hand to his chest with immense pride.

"Only we (the travelers of the path of order), or rather I, have the power to end this absurd farce."

[Black Tower: Haha! Not just a joke, but taking two steps forward and one step back, spending countless billions of years to reach the current state of the universe, and you call it a farce? Quite a grand vision! So, what's your trump card? Honestly, I'm quite curious to see. Especially how you're going to do it?]

[Star: Ouch... Thank goodness it's Sunday. If some tin man with a hole in his chest had said that, my head would be spinning.]

[Hanabi: That's more than that! If that were the case, everyone in the entire universe would be going to explode in a piercing blast!]

Himeko pinched her chin.

Needless to say, it's a pipe dream for just one or two destined travelers to achieve everything Sunday described.

They really want to...

"You intend to resurrect a dead star god? No one has ever done that before."

"Since Miss Himeko is interested, let's speak frankly," Sunday said with a smile. "I've always believed that people can understand each other through peaceful means."

"I wish to truthfully convey to you the aspirations of the Order Walkers, so that you may make a better judgment about the Star Train, Pinocchio, and this universe. Words are inadequate to describe that ideal..."

In order to demonstrate his ideas to the train crew and even turn enemies into friends, he told three stories on Sunday.

And so on, he asked the question.

First, there was the argument he had with his sister when they were young over saving a baby chorus pigeon. The choice was between building a nest on the spot, risking injury from wild animals at any moment, for the sake of freedom, or creating a completely safe birdcage.

[Potio: He's got a damn good look on his face! It's just a pigeon! The one that landed at my feet was a gift from the Emperor, just roast it, why make such a fuss? When I was fighting a guerrilla war with the company in the Gobi Desert, I didn't have time to think about these things. During the toughest days, even earthworms would write their wills on the spot when they saw their brothers.]

[Fireworks: Oh no, we've run into someone who's actually been hungry.]

[Star: You, you too... Do earthworms have hands and write their wills?]

[Fireworks: The fact that you still have the energy to think about these things means you're too full.]

The train crew wasn't as ruthless as the endlessly chattering wandering knights, and their ideas were completely different.

Only after a show of hands was the former reluctantly chosen.

Sunday said, "Interesting. Since you've made up your mind, let me reveal what fate this choice will bring to that fledgling."

"Based on my observations, at least three small bird species frequent that yard in search of prey: the scorpion with a falcon-tailed tail, the wolverine from Asdna, and the Huntington's winged snake..."

"Although they cannot harm humans, these creatures are still dominant predators in this small courtyard. In such a place, there is only one fate awaiting that little chorus pigeon—a painful death."

[Star: No, old man, has your yard been untouched for centuries? It's practically a primeval forest! Instead of worrying about that pigeon, shouldn't you be concerned about the robin's safety? There are scorpions and snakes around.]

[Fireworks: Sunday, did you ever rescue a little concert pigeon in your yard?]

[Sunday: Hmm?]

[Fireworks: Tsk, understand? Play along.]

[March 7th: Oh, I know that. You saved it, were you that pigeon?]

[Fireworks: No, I'm that scorpion, wolverine, and winged snake. I almost starved to death! Why does it get preferential treatment from two-legged creatures, but I don't? You don't care about life, you only care about yourselves!]

[Star: Goodness, you can do that? By the way, how come you're multiple animals at the same time?]

[Shut up: Because she's a wolf in sheep's clothing, a femme fatale.]

【star:……】

[Hanabi: Ugh~~ Hanabi is clearly cute and kind.]

Sunday told the second story. It was about a dreamer who had come to this place after losing everything and selling his children.

Should we ask the hound's family for leniency, or should we resolutely bring them to justice?

March 7th was outraged by this and firmly chose the latter.

Himeko and Ryuhoshi fell into deep thought, without giving a direct answer. Instead, they removed the person's additional attributes and, based solely on the criterion of "illegal immigrant," chose the same answer as Sunday and stopped the pursuit.

[Potio: Can't there be an option of loving him like a machine gun for five hours?]

After voting, several people chose the latter.

On Sunday, he was quite pleased: "It seems you, like me, are also considering whether another option could lead to a better outcome. But unfortunately, his fate will probably only be worse."

He frankly admitted that forcibly entering a dream using crude methods would only lead to death from mental derangement in the long run. He was most likely already reduced to ashes, and at this point, whether or not he would be caught by the hunting dogs was no longer important.

The last story is about Sunday's sister, the robin.

She hoped to soothe people's pain with her singing, and was willing to use her own body to assist in the delivery of relief supplies to the company, but unfortunately...

The dreamer brought bad news for Sunday, sighing, "Stray bullets are merciless."

I knew nothing about it on Sunday, and my sister's letter only contained ordinary greetings. I never expected such a disaster to happen.

He broke down instantly, his composure completely gone: "How is she now?!"