Honkai Star Rail: Summoning the Chrysos Heirs — Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Searching for Other Potential Locations of Abomination

[Killed a low-level Abomination. Memory Trace +10]

A cold, mechanical chime echoed through the quiet space of her mind.

Cyrene sat curled up in her plush computer chair, her knees tucked against her chest. The monitor’s faint blue glow washed over her delicate features, highlighting the soft curve of her cheek. The moment the notification registered, her finger—poised over the mouse—froze. Slowly, she leaned back into the leather backrest, letting the tension bleed out of her shoulders with a long, drawn-out exhale.

“Phew…”

She stretched her legs beneath the desk. “Looks like things wrapped up on Phainon’s end. Nice and smooth.”

Her gaze drifted back to the translucent system panel hovering in her peripheral vision. Seeing the pitifully small ’10’ glaring back at her, Cyrene’s freshly relaxed brow pinched into a frown. She reached up, habitually twirling a loose lock of pink hair around her index finger.

“Does one low-level Abomination really only drop ten Memory Traces?”

According to the system’s strict progression tree, unlocking her next basic ability demanded a minimum of one hundred points. That meant she would have to send Phainon out to butcher nine more of those low-level monsters just to hit the baseline. And if she wanted to focus on restoring Phainon’s actual strength…

Cyrene glanced toward the balcony. Beyond the glass, the city was a sea of pitch black, pierced only by the distant, hazy neon glow of the downtown district.

“If I dump all ten points into Phainon right now, how much power can he actually recover? It definitely won’t be much.”

She chewed her lower lip, turning the math over in her head.

“Forget it. Guessing gets me nowhere. I’ll just test it when he gets back.”

Shaking her head, Cyrene forced her attention back to the glowing monitor. A dozen open browser tabs cluttered the top of her screen. She had spent the last few hours mapping out the background architecture of this world. For the most part, it mirrored the modern society she had left behind before her transmigration. What truly held her interest, however, were the dark undercurrents lurking beneath the mundane news headlines.

The mouse wheel clicked softly in the silent room.

Serial Gas Explosions in Old Downtown Residential Area; Experts Blame Aging Underground Pipes; Site Fully Cordoned Off.

Debunking the ‘Subway Ghost Shadow’ Video: Digital Composite Confirmed; Rumor-Monger Placed Under Administrative Detention.

Several Escaped Beasts from West District Safari Park Shot Dead; Police Warning: Avoid West Suburb Forest Park.

Cyrene’s azure, diamond-shaped pupils tracked across the bold text, eventually locking onto a photograph attached to the gas explosion article. The image was heavily pixelated, the scene choked by thick smoke and yellow police tape. Yet, beneath the visual noise, her eyes caught an unnatural gouge in the concrete wall. It lacked the radial fracture pattern of an explosive shockwave. Instead, four deep, parallel grooves scored the stone—the unmistakable signature of a massive claw.

“This kind of cover-up only fools the ignorant,” Cyrene muttered, a dry smile touching her lips.

As a veteran consumer of countless web novels, she knew the “official debunking” playbook inside and out. To maintain public order and prevent mass hysteria, packaging supernatural slaughter as industrial accidents was standard operating procedure for the authorities.

She reached out, tapping her manicured fingernail against the screen over three specific locations.

“West Suburb Forest Park. Xinhai City Subway Station. Xingyang Residential Area.”

Abominations had almost certainly breached reality in those zones. They might have already been purged by whatever special task force this world’s government employed.

The realization drained her enthusiasm. Cyrene slumped forward, resting her chin on her crossed arms as she stared blankly at her keyboard.

“Even if I know the general coordinates, it’s completely useless.”

Her primary bottleneck remained: she couldn’t actively hunt the monsters. The system’s so-called ‘Alien Species Detection Radar’ boasted a pathetic maximum range of exactly one kilometer. In a sprawling, hyper-dense metropolis, a one-kilometer radius was a drop in the ocean.

[The initial detection range is indeed limited.]

The system’s voice chimed in with perfect, unruffled timing.

[However, you may consume Memory Traces to upgrade the detector and expand your search radius.]

“I know I can upgrade it,” Cyrene shot back, rubbing her tired eyes before aggressively clicking out of the useless news tabs. “But the core issue here is that I don’t have the Memory Traces to upgrade the radar, and without the radar, I can’t find Abominations to farm Memory Traces. Isn’t this just a dead loop?”

If she had to rely on blind luck to stumble across targets, the world would probably end before she saved up her first real reserve of power.

[Actually, there is an alternative plan that does not require the consumption of Memory Traces.]

Cyrene’s hand hovered over the mouse. She sat up straight, her laziness instantly evaporating.

“What plan? Don’t tell me I have to go stand on a street corner handing out flyers, asking pedestrians if they’ve seen any monsters lately.”

[You can use the information network of this world.] The system ignored her sarcasm entirely. [Although you will encounter a massive volume of false data, if the sample size is large enough, you can always filter out the genuine traces of Abominations.]

Cyrene’s eyes lit up, sparkling like cut sapphires.

“Right! Why didn’t I think of that?”

It was the ultimate pay-to-win strategy.

She pulled her keyboard closer, her fingers flying across the keys in a rapid staccato. She searched for the Xinhai City Paranormal Forum, clicked the first link, and hit the registration page. When it came time to fill out her profile, she paused for half a second before expertly crafting the persona of a bored, filthy-rich trust fund kid.

A top-up prompt appeared on the screen.

Cyrene glanced at her phone, checking the dizzyingly long string of zeroes in her mobile banking app. This was the ‘Starting Capital’ the system had graciously provided. According to the briefing she received while Phainon was out hunting, her current body didn’t belong to a displaced original soul; it had been fabricated from scratch. Through a mix of minor cognitive rewriting and deep data intrusion, the system had forged a pair of nouveau riche parents who made a killing in the stock market. Naturally, the fictional couple had perished in a tragic overseas accident, leaving their only daughter an inheritance north of a hundred million.

The ‘dead parents, huge inheritance’ trope was so painfully cliché she wanted to scream, but she couldn’t deny the sheer convenience of it.

“Ten thousand yuan… that should be enough to make a splash, right?”

She authorized the transfer, instantly loading ten thousand Forum Coins into her account—an absolute fortune for a niche, underground message board.

A moment later, a new post hit the top of the board, pinned and glowing with premium formatting:

【HIGH REWARD!】 Seeking verified paranormal events occurring recently in Xinhai City. Bring photos and hard proof. Paying top dollar!

To guarantee visibility, Cyrene burned a few thousand more coins on the forum’s premium exposure service. Watching the thread immediately flood with replies praising the arrival of a new ‘whale,’ she clapped her hands together and stretched her arms high above her head.

“Done. Now we just sit back and let the internet do the heavy lifting.”

A faint rustle broke the silence, followed by the softest thud from the balcony. It was barely a whisper of sound, like a cat dropping gracefully from a high ledge, yet it carried clearly through the quiet bedroom.

“Cyrene. I have returned.”

A warm, deeply familiar voice drifted in on the night breeze.

Cyrene spun her chair around. Phainon stood just beyond the French windows. His immaculate white robes remained pristine, utterly devoid of dust or wrinkles. The massive golden greatsword was nowhere to be seen, dismissed back into the ether. Bathed in the pale moonlight, his tall, broad-shouldered silhouette radiated a quiet, impressive authority.

“That fast?”

She scrambled out of her chair and hurried to the glass doors, her eyes quickly scanning him from head to toe. “You aren’t hurt, are you? Was the Abomination dangerous?”

Even though the system had guaranteed his safety, her heart hadn’t fully settled until she saw him standing there in one piece.

Phainon looked down at the girl, taking in the genuine anxiety etched across her delicate face. A flicker of warmth softened his stoic expression. He shook his head slowly, his tone as casual as if he had just taken a stroll to the corner store.

“It was far more fragile than I anticipated. A single strike was all it took to critically wound the creature.”

“Thank goodness…” Cyrene let out a long breath, patting her chest.

Remembering her earlier plan, she summoned the floating interface. Her gaze locked onto the glowing text: [Memory Trace: 10].

“By the way, System, I want to transfer all ten of these Memory Traces to Phainon right now.”

She looked up at the tall warrior, her eyes shining with anticipation. “I know it’s not much, but every little bit helps. It’s better than nothing.”

[Command confirmed. Please silently recite ‘Use Memory Traces to restore Phainon’s strength’ in your mind.]

Cyrene nodded. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and focused.

‘Use ten Memory Traces to restore Phainon’s strength.’The moment the thought crystallized, a strange, heavy ripple warped the air inside the room. Cyrene opened her eyes just in time to watch the number’10’ vanish from her panel. In its place, a cluster of translucent, brilliant blue light particles burst outward like a swarm of fireflies. They danced through the air, swirling around Phainon before sinking smoothly into his chest.

A faint azure aura flared around him. His slightly pale complexion seemed to flush with a fraction of vitality, and the latent, crushing pressure he naturally exuded grew just a hair sharper.

But the phenomenon was fleeting. Within three seconds, the blue light dissolved, leaving the room as still as before.

“Well?” Cyrene leaned in close, her face inches from his chest, searching for any sign of change. “Do you feel anything? A surge of power? Did a seal break?”

Phainon closed his eyes, turning his focus inward. When he opened them again, he met Cyrene’s hopeful gaze with a helpless, bitter smile.

“It feels… incredibly faint.”

He raised his right hand, slowly curling his fingers into a fist. “It is akin to pouring a single cup of water into a dried-up lake bed. I can sense the energy, yes, but regarding the restoration of my true strength… it is merely a drop in the bucket.”

At those words, the bright anticipation in Cyrene’s eyes visibly dimmed.

“Ah… I see.”

Her shoulders slumped, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. “It looks like getting you back to your peak is going to be a massive, exhausting grind.”

If ten Memory Traces couldn’t even make a ripple, she was going to need thousands. Tens of thousands, maybe.

Feeling thoroughly deflated, Cyrene raised her hand to dismiss the empty system panel.

But just as her fingertip brushed the holographic close button—

A new notification chime, sharper and infinitely louder than the last, pierced her mind.

Cyrene jumped, her hand recoiling as if burned.

On the blank interface, a line of brilliant gold text began to type itself out, burning brightly in the dim room.

[Detected that Phainon’s act of killing a low-level Abomination was observed by a witness.]

[This act has left a deep sense of shock and apprehension in the witness’s Remembrance.]

[Additional reward calculation in progress…]

[Memory Trace +100]