Chat Group Crossover: My System Simulates Infinite Anime Worlds — Chapter 30

Chapter 30: Vill-V, I Found a World Where We Didn’t Survive the Honkai

In a reality woven from the Sea of Quanta and the Imaginary Tree, on one of the countless branches spiraling ever upwards, the perspective narrowed. It descended through the void, focusing on a small, metallic satellite orbiting a serene blue planet.

Twenty years had passed since this world had finally, definitively, overcome the Honkai.

Raiden Mei’s footsteps were light and silent as she approached Elysia from behind. Noticing the presence, Elysia slowly turned her head, her lips already curving into that trademark, radiant smile.

“Mei? What brings you all the way out here?”

Mei looked past her, her gaze drifting into the deep, star-dusted black of the universe. She crossed her arms, a playful glint in her eyes. “What’s wrong? Am I not allowed to visit?”

Elysia shook her head, her own gaze returning to the cosmos. The light in her eyes seemed to dim, her voice taking on a wistful, melancholic edge. “I didn’t say you couldn’t come.”

A comfortable silence fell between them, two old friends sharing a quiet moment, their thoughts fixed on the same empty expanse of stars. It was into that very sky that Nagumo had vanished. The cataclysmic collision of energies had torn open a distorted, unstable wormhole, and he had plunged into it without hesitation. His fate remained unknown.

As they were lost in their shared memories, a bizarre sight ripped through the silent void. A massive, fantastical locomotive materialized from thin air, pulling to a halt directly before them.

Vill-V, the master of helices, leaped down from the driver’s cabin, her eyes alight with manic excitement.

“I found a parallel world!” she announced, her voice buzzing with energy. “From the looks of it, it’s a world where we didn’t survive the Honkai. Want to go over, take a look, and have some fun? A little trip to blow off some steam?”

She waved a dismissive hand. “And you don’t need to worry about that guy, Nagumo. You know the saying: good people don’t live long, but a scourge lasts a thousand years. A top-tier scourge like him is probably living a quiet farming life on some backwater planet right now, trying to figure out how to get back.”

Her words hung in the air. Mei and Elysia stared, momentarily stunned, before a shared, genuine smile broke across both their faces.

Elysia pushed herself to her feet, her usual giggling mirth returning. “You’re right. This is no time for sadness. Knowing Nagumo’s personality, if he found out we were moping around, he’d probably find some bizarre, roundabout way to mock us for it.”

Mei raised a hand, discreetly wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye. “That’s true,” she agreed, her voice steady once more. “But you all go on ahead. The Sea of Quanta Frontline can’t be left unattended. Just… remember to come back early.”

After making the necessary preparations and notifying anyone else who wished to join the impromptu excursion, the incredible locomotive roared to life and set off.

In the Elysian world of another, far more somber parallel world, an Imaginary Door tore open reality, and the massive vehicle emerged. Instantly, every memory entity within the realm materialized, drawn by the impossible intrusion.

The Elysia of this Elysian Realm, a being of pure memory, blinked her large, sparkling pink eyes. She had met this particular Vill-V before and had listened, enraptured, to tales of another world—and of another her.

As the locomotive’s cabin door hissed open, a different Elysia—one radiating the obvious power of the Herrscher of Finality—hopped out lightly, landing gracefully within the realm. Seeing her other self, she immediately beamed and glided forward.

The two Elysias stood face-to-face, their eyes crinkling into identical, radiant smiles as they spoke in perfect, flawless unison.

“Hi, hello there! My name is Elysia. As you can see, I’m a girl as beautiful as a flower.” ×2

Standing off to the side, Mobius—the Infinite Serpent—crossed her arms, the corner of her lip curling in a sneer. “Two pink, fluffy idiots.” If one ignored the disdainful curl of her lips, however, the glint in her eyes betrayed a deep, hidden happiness.

Just then, a fully grown Griseo stepped out of the cabin.

“The other Grandma Elysia,” she observed with childlike innocence, “and the shrunken Grandma Mobius.”

The Elysia of the Elysian Realm froze, the cheerful greeting dying on her lips.

A tremor ran through the assembled memory entities. Their shoulders began to shake, not with fear, but with utterly unrestrained mirth. The one who laughed the loudest, a sharp, cackling peel of pure schadenfreude, was the memory of Mobius.

“Hahahaha!!!” she shrieked, pointing a finger. “Elysia! Didn’t expect that, did you? You actually lived to see the day you’d be called Grandma!”

Elysia’s memory entity stood speechless, her perfect smile utterly shattered.

…

Meanwhile, in that other world.

Nagumo had already completed his assessment. He now possessed the certification badges for a Two-Star Martial Artist and a Talisman Master. Dressed in a nondescript black robe with a simple mask covering his face, he slipped out of the guild building, moving with a surreptitious air.

He looked deeply suspicious, and in fact, he was deeply suspicious, but it wasn’t a cause for concern. The streets were often populated by chuunibyou youths wandering about in black robes and masks; such an outfit was, paradoxically, quite normal.

He made his way to where he’d parked his Mengdeng 125. Nagumo swung a leg over the motorcycle, swapped the funny, generic mask on his face for a classic Ultraman mask, and with a soft whish, vanished into the flow of traffic.

As he passed a place called the “Wild Body-Tempering Club,” he glanced inside. His eyes narrowed slightly. He pulled over, dismounted, and found a public telephone booth.

Yes, a public telephone booth. This antiquated relic was still preserved in certain parts of the city, intentionally maintained as a hobby by a few eccentric enthusiasts.

Nagumo, playing the part of a concerned citizen, dialed the emergency report number.

“Hello, I have something to report,” he said, his voice flat and even. “I was passing by a club called the Wild Club, and I thought I heard the sound of beast roars coming from inside. There’s also a foul, strange smell. After a quick check online, it seems to be a front for an organization of the Beast God Cult.”

He paused. “You’re asking who I am? How I know so much? I’m just a concerned citizen.” He added, with a hint of dry wit, “No need to send a commemorative banner. Just please send a few more people. I won’t say any more. Hanging up now.”

After setting the receiver back in its cradle, Nagumo turned, only to find several hulking, muscular men blocking his path. The scene was not unlike a cornered scholar finding himself face-to-face with four legendary assassins.

One of the men, his face a mask of menace, licked his lips and let out a hideous smile. “Fortunately, we were cautious enough to connect the phone line here directly to the club. If those cops had come, our great plan would have been ruined.”

He took a step forward, cracking his knuckles. “I don’t know how you discovered our secret, but you have only two paths before you now. One: join our cult. Two: be captured and fed to the demonic beasts.”

Nagumo sighed, a sound of deep weariness. He let a sliver of his aura leak out—the oppressive, crushing weight of a Magnetic Field Powerhouse.

Instantly, the air grew thick and heavy. The muscular men felt an incomparable pressure slam down on them, their knees buckling as they were forced to the ground. The hard pavement beneath them spiderwebbed with cracks from the sheer force of their impact.

Nagumo spoke, his tone unhurried and casual.

“Robbery. Hand over everything valuable on you.”

The men in front of him were clearly not just mindless brutes. Enduring the crushing pressure, one of them roared, his voice strained, “You bastard! This is entrapment! Don’t you have any dignity as a powerhouse?”

A strange, grating laugh escaped Nagumo’s lips. He rubbed his palms together with theatrical greed.

“It seems you haven’t just trained these muscles; your brain isn’t stupid either,” he said. “Dignity of a powerhouse? What’s that? I’m no powerhouse. I’m very weak, you see. I can only use a few little tricks.”

His eyes glinted behind the Ultraman mask. “I’m robbing the rich to help the poor. I’m very poor right now, and I assume you’ve been developing your little cult here for a long time. You must be very wealthy.”

“Heh, heh, heh…”