Honkai Star Rail: Summoning the Chrysos Heirs — Chapter 12

Chapter 12: The Red Dot at Hongda Chemical Plant

“Is this the Hongda Chemical Plant? The location seems even more remote than what’s shown on the map.”

Cyrene raised a hand to shield her face from the glare, her strange, diamond-shaped pupils narrowing against the harsh light. The midday sun beat down on the cracked asphalt without mercy, baking the air until it hung thick with the suffocating scent of dry dust and ozone.

Not far down the road, layers of glaring yellow police tape cordoned off the dusty factory grounds. Distorted by the shimmering heatwaves, the abandoned facility looked like the rotting carcass of a giant beast left to decay in the wasteland.

Having reached her destination, Cyrene shifted her focus. A translucent blue screen unfurled quietly in the corner of her vision.

[Scanning surrounding area…]

As the radar ripples washed over the digital map, a crimson dot materialized right in the center of the chemical plant. It pulsed at a slow, rhythmic frequency against the previously empty grid.

‘Bingo~ It seems my intuition is as sharp as ever.’

A graceful curve tugged at the corners of Cyrene’s mouth, a secret thrill bubbling up inside her. An Abomination was indeed entrenched inside those walls, which meant a substantial deposit of Memory Trace was about to hit her account.

With her target confirmed, she let her gaze wander away from the screen and across the physical street.

“But… isn’t it a bit too quiet around here?”

The Authorities had already locked down the perimeter. Logically, there should be uniformed personnel standing guard, yet as far as the eye could see, the entire street was a ghost town. Aside from the occasional distant vehicle kicking up a cloud of dirt, there was not a single soul in sight.

Just as a hint of confusion settled over her, a distinct aroma drifted on the hot wind.

It was the heavy scent of cheap soybean oil and chopped green onions sizzling over high heat.

Cyrene followed the smell, her gaze locking onto a rusty tricycle parked a few dozen meters outside the police tape.

It was a weathered jianbing guozi stall.

“Hmm…?”

Cyrene blinked, looking at the cart as if she had just discovered a new continent.

Out here in the middle of nowhere, parked right next to a restricted quarantine zone, someone was calmly making street pancakes? The entire scene dripped with incongruity, like a slapstick comedian wandering onto the set of a horror film.

Countless classic movie tropes flashed through her mind—plainclothes officers disguised as sanitation workers, wandering vendors, or lost tourists.

‘So that’s how it is…’

The amusement in her eyes deepened. This humble stall owner was clearly the undercover informant left behind by The Authorities.

Since she had already stepped into his line of sight, turning around and fleeing now would only paint a massive target on her back. It was far better to play along, slip into the persona of a wealthy, airheaded young lady, and perhaps fish for some free intelligence.

Decision made, Cyrene smoothed down the edges of her skirt and approached the tricycle with light, bouncy steps.

As she closed the distance, the vendor’s features came into sharp focus. He was a man in his thirties with dark, sunbaked skin, heavy stubble shadowing his jaw, and a grease-stained army-green tank top clinging to his frame.

He kept his head down, aggressively spreading batter over the hot iron, but his eyes darted upward from beneath his brow. He tracked her approach with the cold, calculating scrutiny of a man assessing a potential threat, entirely lacking the welcoming warmth of a small business owner.

Cyrene stopped in front of the cart, clasping her hands behind her back and leaning forward with a sugary, perfectly harmless smile.

“Hello, boss. Can I have a jianbing guozi?”

The man’s hand faltered. He looked up, his brow furrowing as he sized up the exquisite, impeccably dressed girl who looked entirely out of place in this desolate wasteland.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” he grunted, his tone laced with heavy impatience. “The basic version is twenty. Take it or leave it.”

“Twenty?”

Cyrene parted her lips in feigned shock, raising a slender finger to point at the paint-chipped wooden board dangling from the side of the cart. “But… boss, doesn’t your sign say eight yuan per serving?”

The spatula clattered harshly against the iron plate. The man leaned over the cart, his voice turning hostile as he actively tried to drive her away.

“Am I the boss or is the sign the boss? Prices have gone up. If I say twenty, it’s twenty! If you think it’s too expensive, then leave. Don’t block my business!”

Faced with such blatant aggression, Cyrene merely let out a soft, airy laugh.

“Hee… so that’s how it is.”

She slowly retrieved her phone from her small designer bag, tapping the screen with a breezy nonchalance, as if they were merely discussing the weather.

“Since the price has gone up, the service should be better too, right? Then please, boss, make me a ‘Deluxe Edition’ jianbing guozi with absolutely all the toppings.”

[Ding—Payment received: two hundred yuan.]

The crisp, mechanical voice of the transaction alert echoed loudly down the dead, silent street.

“You…?!”

The fierce scowl froze on the man’s face. He stared blankly at the transfer notification lighting up his own phone, then looked back at the smiling girl, words failing him completely.

His attitude had been designed to chase away civilians. Any normal person would have cursed him out for running a scam and stormed off. Why wasn’t this girl following the script?

Taking a deep breath, he made one last desperate attempt, jabbing a finger at his menu board.

“Little girl, let me give you a fair warning. The prices here change by the minute. It’s easy to transfer the money in, but it’ll be hard to get it back!”

“Mm-hmm, I know.”

Cyrene nodded obediently, her gem-like eyes sparkling with manufactured innocence. “I saw the Deluxe Edition is listed at thirty-six. Just now you said the basic version more than doubled in price, so two hundred yuan for this one should be just enough, right? If it’s not enough, should I add a bit more?”

She raised her phone again, ready to send another wave of cash.

“It’s enough, it’s enough!”

The man’s face contorted in sheer exasperation. Watching Cyrene’s absolute disregard for money, he finally deflated, shaking his head like a beaten man.

He bent down, yanking eggs and crispy crackers from the lower cabinet. His spatula began to dance rapidly across the iron plate, though every aggressive scrape carried a heavy resentment, screaming his desire to finish the food and get rid of her.

The batter spread thin, and the rich aroma of cooking food rose into the hot air.

Watching his busy back, Cyrene casually shifted her gaze toward the silent chemical plant. She kept her voice light and conversational.

“By the way, boss, you must have been set up here for a long time, right? What exactly happened at that factory? Why has it been cordoned off for so long?”

The man didn’t look back. He tossed a handful of green onions onto the cooking egg, throwing his answer over his shoulder.

“Chemical leak. The Authorities cordoned it off for safety.”

“Hmm… a chemical leak.”

Cyrene tapped her chin thoughtfully. Her tone remained soft and sweet, yet it carried an imperceptible edge of interrogation. “But that’s a bit strange. Usually, a chemical leak can be cleared in a few days after emergency treatment, right? What kind of terrifying substance could make The Authorities treat it with such gravity, keeping it cordoned off for over half a month without lifting the quarantine?”

“How should I know… Wait, over half a month?”

The man had answered on pure instinct, but his spatula suddenly froze on the iron. He snapped his head around, glaring at Cyrene as if she were a complete lunatic, rolling his eyes in deep annoyance.

“So you already knew about this? You knew and you still asked me! You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

“Oh, I just wanted to hear some ‘first-hand’ information from someone on the scene~”

Cyrene blinked, her self-righteous, innocent expression almost making the undercover cop laugh out of pure anger.

“Go on, get out of here. There’s no first-hand info. It was just a little gas leak; it’ll dissipate in a few days.”

He clearly had no intention of wasting another breath on this eccentric rich girl. Snorting coldly, he turned his back on her again, clanging the iron plate with unnecessary force to signal his absolute refusal to communicate.

No matter how many more soft questions Cyrene lobbed at his back—asking about unknown creatures or weird noises in the night—he played deaf and dumb, refusing to even twitch a muscle in response.

“Hmm… what an uninteresting uncle.”

Seeing that her new toy had permanently switched to mute mode, Cyrene shrugged her shoulders, her brief spark of entertainment fading.

Oh well. Better get back to checking the radar.

She dropped the act, turning her attention away from the cart and casting her gaze back toward the towering, rusted gates of the chemical plant. With a subtle shift of her thoughts, the digital detection screen expanded across her vision once more.

She only wanted to verify the Abomination’s exact coordinates.

However, the moment the radar interface came into focus, Cyrene’s relaxed demeanor shattered.

The crimson dot, which had previously been idling near the center of the facility, was no longer stationary. It was tearing across the digital grid, closing the distance to her exact coordinates at a terrifying velocity.

The red light flashed frantically, bleeding across the screen like a silent countdown to impact.

‘This speed… it’s coming straight for me?!’

Cyrene’s pupils constricted. A sudden, icy dread spiked through her veins, rushing straight to the crown of her head.

Beep beep beep—!!!

A rapid, piercing alarm suddenly shrieked through the heavy air, shattering the tense silence between the two of them.

The sound was coming from the vendor’s waist.

The man abandoned his cooking instantly. The gruff, working-class aura he had projected vanished, replaced by the lethal intensity of a cornered soldier.

“Damn it! Why now of all times!”

He dropped the spatula onto the hot iron, ignoring the grease coating his hands. Plunging his arm into a hidden compartment beneath the wooden cart, he yanked out a heavy black pistol.

He leveled the dark muzzle directly at the gates of the chemical plant.

“Leave this place! Now! Immediately!”

He roared over his shoulder, his voice vibrating with absolute, unquestionable authority. “I’m a police officer! It’s extremely dangerous here right now. If you don’t want to die, get the hell away!”