Honkai Star Rail: Saving the World with a Mobile Game — Chapter 25

Chapter 25: The Xianzhou is Implicated

“How is that even possible? Is this for real? The game’s creator has to be making things up!”

“Are you telling me the great, selfless, and glorious Trailblazer Stelle of the Astral Express used to run with a terrorist organization? The Stellaron Hunters?!”

“Holy crap, look at how they’re talking to each other! Didn’t everyone say the Hunters were ruthless psychopaths?”

“Wait, this is just a fan game, right? The plot is definitely fabricated by the dev. How could it be canon?”

“That just makes it even more explosive! To have the sheer audacity to fabricate a history between the Stellaron Hunters and the Astral Express…”

“This is pure rumor-mongering! If either faction finds out, they’ll both be hunting this dev down. Slapping a ‘fan work’ label on it won’t save them!”

“But… why does it feel so authentic? The way they use terms like ‘script’and’mission’—it fits perfectly. It’s like it actually happened!”

“Explosive. This is way too explosive! If this is true…”

In an instant, the comment section of Guinaifen’s livestream, along with the broader player community forums, completely detonated.

As a prominent Xianzhou outdoor streamer, Guinaifen boasted millions of followers, but her concurrent live viewership rarely reflected those inflated numbers. Today, however, the moment this hidden plotline was exposed, her live viewer count shattered the 100,000 mark for the very first time.

A historic new peak!

Yet, the energetic street performer didn’t even have a second to celebrate her newfound virality. As the digital narrative continued to unfold on her screen, the revelations only grew more staggering.

Within the game’s dialogue box, the Stellaron Hunters were debriefing a recent operation.

“This script was executed under extreme peril. It is solely thanks to Stelle’s quick thinking that we managed to escape with our lives.”

“If we always dance on the edge of a blade, accidents will find us sooner or later, Kafka.”

The voice belonged to Sam. His tone was a glacial, metallic rasp, his posture radiating a highly aggressive, suffocating pressure. He spoke like a heartless killing machine, devoid of any organic warmth.

“I accept your criticism, Sam,” Kafka replied, her voice a soft, silken sigh as she pondered the situation. “Indeed… with the script in hand, we never truly considered the possibility of failure.”

A brief pause hung in the air before she continued. “I suppose even the Stellaron Hunters require a retreat signal. There is no time like the present. Why don’t we establish one now?”

As she spoke, the camera angle shifted, focusing on the brooding figure of Blade.

The viewers held their breath. It couldn’t go that far, could it?

Would the game actually reveal the highly classified retreat signal of the universe’s most wanted criminals?

Before the players could even process the implication, Blade’s deep, gravelly voice echoed through the speakers.

“Hmm…”

“Observe one corner to infer the rest. The sovereign’s command is absolute. Stake everything on the city’s defense.”

“Ah, a slogan with quite a Xianzhou flair,” Kafka noted, a teasing lilt coloring her words. “Aren’t you afraid of being bound by the past?”

Blade offered no response, his silence a stark dismissal of her provocation.

Those few, seemingly simple lines of dialogue carried a terrifying weight, unraveling a massive web of previously buried lore. It was exactly like the earlier revelation regarding Dan Heng’s true identity as the Imbibitor Lunae!

The chat scrolled so fast it became a blur of white text.

“Wait? There’s more?!”

“‘Observe one corner to infer the rest… stake everything on the city’s defense’… why does this battle cry feel so painfully familiar? I swear I’ve read it in a history text somewhere!”

“Xianzhou flair? What does she mean by ‘Xianzhou flair’and’bound by the past’? Could Blade actually be connected to the Xianzhou Alliance?!”

“No way! How could a monstrous Stellaron Hunter have anything to do with the Xianzhou?”

“If this gets confirmed, it’s going to cause an absolute earthquake across the entire Alliance.”

“I can’t do this anymore, man. I feel like I’m reading forbidden historical archives. I’m genuinely terrified the Cloud Knights are going to breach my door at any second!”

“This is way too intense. It’s the closest we’ve ever been to the Hunters. And that guy, Sam…”

“Is that really Sam? He’s so utterly cold and ruthless. To maintain that kind of dominant attitude even among the Hunters, daring to talk back to Kafka…”

“The way he speaks makes my blood run cold. His reputation as the most violent, brutal, and cold-blooded member isn’t just for show. I heard that prey falling into his hands don’t even get the luxury of running!”

Xianzhou Luofu.

The Seat of Divine Foresight.

Under normal circumstances, a mere video game wouldn’t warrant any level of secrecy or alarm. But now that the plot had crossed into forbidden territory…

A suffocating wave of suspicion was already beginning to ripple through the upper echelons of the Luofu.

Crisp, hurried footsteps echoed from the corridor outside the grand hall. A green-haired Foxian woman strode in, her posture rigid with military discipline.

“A situation has arisen, General.”

Yukong held a jade abacus screen tightly in her grip, her expression grave as she prepared to deliver her report to Jing Yuan. The glowing display in her hand was currently looping the exact cutscene that had just sent the internet into a meltdown.

“General, this game that has been sweeping across the Xianzhou lately… it is exactly as I suspected. The developer seems to know the Luofu’s darkest secrets like the back of his hand.”

Deep within the tranquil expanse of the Seat of Divine Foresight, Jing Yuan sat with his back turned to the entrance. He appeared completely engrossed in a device of his own, murmuring softly to himself.

“Hmm? This is Yanqing, isn’t it? The combat mechanics are quite faithfully recreated.”

He chuckled, a low, warm sound. “Haha, I certainly didn’t expect the Master Diviner to be included in the roster as well. I wonder how she feels, experiencing her own life rendered as a digital narrative.”

A soft swipe of his finger. “Oh? And Dan Heng is here too…”

“General?”

Seeing Jing Yuan casually swiping at his own jade screen, Yukong’s brow twitched, and she interrupted his leisurely commentary.

The sharp tone finally pulled the Arbiter-General from his immersion. He turned his head, a mild, unbothered smile gracing his lips. “Ah, it is Helm Master Yukong.”

His golden eyes drifted toward the entrance. “And Master Diviner Fu outside. Since you have already arrived, why linger in the shadows? Come in.”

At his invitation, Yukong glanced over her shoulder. A petite, pink-haired girl marched aggressively into the main hall, her steps sharp and deliberate.

Much like Yukong, Fu Xuan wore a deeply serious expression. She crossed her arms over her chest, her emerald eyes narrowing at the General’s relaxed demeanor.

“Jing Yuan, this matter has escalated far beyond a simple civilian distraction. You had better have already formulated a countermeasure.”

Her voice was crisp, carrying the authoritative weight of her station. “The Xianzhou is currently handling a highly sensitive period, and this game just happens to manifest out of thin air. I cannot divine the exact connection between the two…”

She stepped closer, her gaze piercing. “For now, the fallout is still contained within the Luofu’s jurisdiction. But if we allow this to fester, it will inevitably reach the Marshal’s ears.”

“Haha.” Jing Yuan laughed, spreading his hands in a gesture of placating surrender. “Alright, alright, Master Diviner. I hear your concerns loud and clear.”

His eyes crinkled with quiet amusement. “I merely thought that, upon encountering such an entertaining novelty, you would take the opportunity to enjoy yourself.”

Fu Xuan’s lips pressed into a thin line. She offered no verbal rebuttal.

To be entirely fair…

She was indeed having quite a bit of fun.

In fact, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say she had become utterly obsessed with improving her team compositions.

But duty dictated her actions. The moment that specific lore drop appeared on her screen, the cold reality of the situation had shattered her immersion.

Had the narrative finally encroached upon the Xianzhou Luofu?

Those buried pasts, those forbidden names that had long been erased from the public archives—details so obscured that even the longest-lived citizens of the Xianzhou remained ignorant of them…

The game’s creator had effortlessly woven them into a digital script.

It was obvious. The developer knew the truth.

Jing Yuan’s gaze swept over the two women, the faint smile never leaving his face as he let out a soft, measured sigh. “Then, in the esteemed opinions of the Master Diviner and the Helm Master, what course of action should we take?”

Currently, the leaks only pertained to fragmented identity clues regarding Blade and Dan Heng.

But even that was a terrifying breach of security. Such classified history was strictly confined to the highest echelons of the Xianzhou Alliance.

And given the delicate, unspoken tensions surrounding Jingliu’s legacy, they had no way of knowing just how deep this developer’s knowledge ran. Would the game eventually expose her as well?

“In my view, while we remain ignorant of this individual’s true motives—whether they are friend or foe—we must immediately halt the game’s distribution.”

Fu Xuan raised her chin, her tone as assertive and uncompromising as ever. “However, considering the sheer scale of its current popularity, attempting a blanket censorship would be futile. I believe we must employ our resources to directly locate the developer himself. That would be the most efficient resolution!”

Naturally, this aggressive stance was solely for the safety and stability of the Xianzhou Alliance. It absolutely did not involve any personal vendettas.

It was definitely not because the game’s unforgiving gacha system had caused her to lose the fifty-fifty pity three consecutive times, leaving her with a burning desire to drag the creator out by his collar and see exactly what kind of sadist designed such a mechanic!

Jing Yuan pondered the proposal for a moment. Though he often projected an aura of indolent ease, his mind was a steel trap, acutely aware of every shifting current within the Luofu.

Regarding this mysterious developer, Jing Yuan remained fairly unperturbed.

His intuition told him that this individual likely harbored no genuine malice toward the Xianzhou.

But since the Master Diviner was so fiercely motivated…

“How about this,” Jing Yuan said, his tone smooth as he validated Fu Xuan’s strategy. “Since the Master Diviner has articulated such a flawless plan, why don’t we leave the execution of this matter entirely in your capable hands?”

He offered her a brilliant, encouraging smile. “I firmly believe that with your unmatched connections and divinatory methods, you will effortlessly apprehend this mastermind behind the scenes. How does that sound?”

Fu Xuan blinked, her grand posture faltering for a fraction of a second.

“Ah?”