Honkai Star Rail: Summoning the Chrysos Heirs — Chapter 97

Chapter 97: The Serial Disappearance Case

After successfully rehoming the life-sized rabbit plushie, the trio resumed their leisurely patrol through the bustling corridors of Xinhai City’s Xinglan Plaza.

Xiaoya had grandly declared that they still had “vast territories awaiting critical inspection.” In reality, her rigorous patrol consisted entirely of shopping and eating.

From the artisan bubble tea stand on the ground floor to the sizzling takoyaki grill on the third, all the way down to the basement food court’s legendary fried chicken stall, the three girls had practically laid siege to every snack vendor in the building.

Xiaoya marched forward with a skewer of glazed rice cakes gripped in her right hand and a massive cup of pearl milk tea in her left. Her cheeks were puffed out like a hoarding hamster.

“Mmm… acceptable, highly acceptable,” she mumbled, completely oblivious to the single toasted sesame seed stuck to her cheek. “The worldly essence gathered in this domain is of undeniably superior quality!”

An Ning strolled beside her, a steaming cup of black Americano in hand. She took a measured sip, turning her head to appraise Xiaoya’s gluttonous display with a look of mild helplessness.

“Could you chew a little slower? No one is going to snatch it from your hands.”

“Nonsense! On the battlefield, the speed of supply line consumption dictates ultimate victory or defeat!”

“This is a shopping mall, not a warzone,” An Ning replied, her tone perfectly flat.

Cyrene trailed a few steps behind them, holding a freshly made strawberry crepe wrapped in delicate pink paper. Watching the backs of her two companions bickering over snacks, a soft, genuine smile touched her lips.

Afternoon sunlight filtered down through the mall’s massive glass dome, casting warm, geometric pools of light across the polished marble floors. The air was thick with the sweet aroma of baking sugar and the ambient hum of weekend crowds. Xiaoya’s dramatic chuunibyou declarations mixed perfectly with An Ning’s dry, pragmatic retorts.

It was a nice feeling. A perfectly ordinary, wonderfully mundane weekend routine shared between friends.

As they made their way up to the fourth floor, passing a massive floor-to-ceiling observation window, Xiaoya suddenly slammed on the brakes.

She whipped her head around, her gaze piercing through the glass to lock onto the sprawling, vibrantly colored structures across the distant street. The massive silhouette of a Ferris wheel rotated lazily against the afternoon sky, flanked by the winding, metallic steel of roller coaster tracks. Faint echoes of screams and laughter drifted over the urban sprawl.

It was Star Dream Park, the largest entertainment complex in Xinhai City.

Xiaoya’s eyes practically ignited with stars.

She spun on her heel, clutching her plastic milk tea cup in both hands like a sacred chalice, and stared at Cyrene and An Ning with burning intensity.

“Do you behold that magnificent structure?” she demanded. “Comrades! The time has come to conquer that fortress of dreams!”

She hoisted her milk tea high into the air, wielding it like a broadsword ready to cleave through enemy lines.

“Listen well! According to my master plan—”

Her grand declaration died in her throat.

A sharp, piercing notification chime cut through the air. Not just one. Three identical chimes rang out in perfect, jarring synchronization.

The phones in the pockets of Cyrene, An Ning, and Xiaoya vibrated simultaneously.

The trio froze.

Cyrene lowered her half-eaten crepe and pulled out her phone. The screen glowed with a new WeChat notification.

Sender: Lei Ye.

[The three of you, return immediately. Something has come up.]

The text was so brief it bordered on rude. No context, no pleasantries, just a cold, clinical demand that reeked of official business.

Cyrene stared at the glowing pixels for two seconds before looking up, catching An Ning’s eye.

The relaxed, casual aura An Ning had carried all afternoon vanished, instantly replaced by her cold, professional work mode. She slipped her phone away, unscrewed her thermos for one last sip of water, and spoke.

“Let’s go.”

Beside them, Xiaoya was still frozen in her dramatic pose, her milk tea held aloft. She slowly lowered her arms, checked the glowing screen of her own phone, and then cast a mournful glance back at the distant Ferris wheel.

Her lips trembled slightly. “My… fortress of dreams…”

“We’ll conquer it next time,” An Ning said, patting her shoulder with a calm tone that brooked no argument.

Xiaoya fell silent for a long second. Then, she brought the cup to her lips, drained the remaining milk tea in one aggressive gulp, and tossed the empty plastic into a nearby trash can. She took a deep breath.

“…Understood.”

For once, she didn’t bother using her chuunibyou persona to mask her disappointment.

They moved with practiced efficiency. Leaving the bright warmth of the mall behind, they flagged down a taxi and sped directly toward the Special Anomaly Bureau.

The atmosphere inside the cramped vehicle was a stark contrast to their lively morning commute. The playful banter was dead.

Xiaoya leaned against the backseat with her eyes closed, mentally shifting gears. An Ning kept her gaze locked on the encrypted work group chat on her phone. Cyrene sat in silence, watching the blurred city streets fly past the window.

Lei Ye was not the type of man to recall his operatives on a whim. If he was actively ruining their weekend leave, something terrible had happened.

Twenty minutes later, the taxi pulled up to the curb outside the Special Anomaly Bureau branch—a heavily reinforced building disguised to look like a perfectly ordinary district police station.

The trio bypassed the public reception, flashing their credentials at the security gate. They swiped their access cards, stepping into the restricted inner corridors, and headed straight for the primary briefing room on the second floor.

The harsh, sterile glare of the fluorescent lights overhead stripped away the last lingering warmth of their afternoon out. Several uniformed staff members hurried past, offering curt, respectful nods to An Ning as they passed.

Reaching the heavy oak door of the conference room, An Ning rapped her knuckles against the wood twice and pushed it open without waiting for permission.

Lei Ye sat at the far end of the long mahogany table. Dressed in a dark, form-fitting turtleneck, his posture was rigid, his attention entirely focused on the glowing screen of the laptop beside him.

At the sound of the door, he looked up. His sharp gaze swept over the three girls.

“Sit,” he ordered, his voice crisp and decisive.

They filed in and took their respective seats. An Ning claimed the chair directly opposite him, while Xiaoya and Cyrene flanked her on either side of the table.

Cyrene’s eyes immediately drifted to the table. Beside the laptop sat a thick, heavily sealed kraft paper envelope. It was bulging at the seams, packed tight with physical documents.

Lei Ye’s gaze lingered on them for two heavy seconds.

Clatter.

He unsealed the envelope and tipped it forward. A thick stack of dossiers spilled out, sliding across the polished tabletop.

The pages were dense with printed text and glossy crime scene photos. The corners of several files were curled and worn, a clear sign that Lei Ye had been obsessively reviewing them for hours.

“Review these,” Lei Ye instructed, pushing the scattered files closer to them. He folded his hands on the table, his voice steady and grim. “We have an active serial disappearance case in Xinhai City.”

An Ning didn’t hesitate, immediately reaching out to grab the top file. Cyrene picked up the next folder in the stack, her eyes scanning the top sheet.

It was a standard police missing person report. A small ID photo was clipped to the corner, depicting a young man in his early twenties with thick, black-rimmed glasses. His expression was stiff and awkward, carrying the unmistakable aura of a recent college graduate.

His name, age, registered address, and the exact time and location of his last known sighting were all printed in stark, bold black ink.

Cyrene flipped to the second file. Another report. This one featured a middle-aged woman in her late thirties.

She turned to the third page. Then the fourth. Then the fifth.

Every single page detailed a new victim. Different ages. Different genders. Completely unrelated occupations. The only connecting thread was that over the course of the last month, every single one of them had vanished into thin air across entirely different districts of Xinhai City.

No witnesses. No suspicious vehicles logged in the area. Not a single frame of surveillance footage captured anything remotely abnormal. It was as if the very air of the city had simply opened its jaws and swallowed them whole.

Beside her, An Ning was rapidly processing the data, her brows knitting tighter together with every page she turned. She closed the final folder and looked up, meeting Lei Ye’s eyes.

“Total count?” she asked.

“As of yesterday evening, the confirmed number of victims is seven.” Lei Ye tapped his index finger against the empty envelope. “The first disappearance was logged exactly twenty-six days ago. Since then, a new missing person report has hit the system every three to four days. The frequency is incredibly stable.”

He paused, his voice dropping a fraction of an octave. “Too stable.”

He spoke the words softly, but the heavy implication slammed into the room. A perfectly stable frequency meant this wasn’t a string of random, unfortunate tragedies. There was a deliberate hand behind this, operating on a strict, calculated schedule.

An Ning dropped the files onto the table and leaned back, crossing her arms. “What’s the local police department’s angle?”

“They’ve already run several exhaustive sweeps,” Lei Ye replied, shaking his head. “They pulled hundreds of hours of surveillance footage, audited the social circles of all seven victims, and tore through their financial records and GPS travel trajectories for the last three months. Their conclusion? Absolute zero.”

He reached for a ceramic teacup resting near his laptop, taking a slow, measured sip. The porcelain clinked softly against the wood as he set it back down.

“There is zero social intersection between the targets. Different demographics, different tax brackets, different residential districts. Even their daily commuting routes never crossed paths. The police can’t find a single thread to tie them together. Every conventional method of investigation has hit a brick wall.”

Lei Ye’s gaze swept across the three girls from behind his glasses, finally settling on the open dossiers scattered between them.

“Therefore, the local authorities have transferred jurisdiction to the Special Anomaly Bureau.”

A heavy silence descended over the conference room. Cyrene stared down at the glossy photo of the young graduate, rapidly organizing the data points in her head.

Seven victims. Twenty-six days. Zero intersections. Zero physical evidence. Conventional law enforcement entirely paralyzed.

Under those specific parameters, there was only one reason a file ever landed on the desks of the Special Anomaly Bureau.

Lei Ye’s next words confirmed her exact line of thinking. He reached out, tapping his finger sharply against the cover of the central dossier.

“I suspect,” Lei Ye began, his voice flat, yet carrying the absolute weight of a judge delivering a verdict, “that this string of disappearances is the work of an unregistered Ability User.”