Star Rail: Starting with a Lyre, Living off Busking [5]

“Mm—!”

Clearly, his words struck a deep chord, so much so that even Venti was a bit surprised by the effect.

Seele’s previous confusion had vanished, replaced by a fierce, steely expression.

“Tell me, how do I create a miracle!”

“You seem to trust me quite a bit. Aren’t you worried I might just be spouting nonsense?”

Venti asked, feigning innocence.

This made Seele release him, giving his chest a playful punch as she muttered, a bit embarrassed.

“S-say what? Don’t get all sentimental. Your talk has some sense to it, and you’ve done a lot to help everyone.”

She scratched her reddening cheek, her eyes darting.

“I trust you… though, as you Upper District people say, it’s ‘reluctant’ trust. Yes, reluctant! If it turns out you’re just tricking me, I’ll just have to knock some sense into you.”

“I see. To be trusted by such an exceptional companion—well, that’s both pressure and pride.”

Venti’s warm gaze made the girl struggle to keep her composure, so she pouted, standing her ground.

“Alright, enough flattery! For now, I’ll follow your lead. When you’re ready to get started, come to my tent, or have Oleg or Natasha let me know, and I’ll come to you.”

“No problem! I was just waiting for those words.”

With a light laugh, Venti reached out his hand for a high-five.

Seele found this sense of ritual intriguing; she’d thought only people in the Lower District used simple gestures like this to welcome someone into the fold.

But, considering Venti’s personality, she wasn’t all that surprised.

With a renewed sense of camaraderie, she smacked his hand with an energetic, boyish enthusiasm. Without another word, she hoisted her scythe and headed back—she still had a patrol to get to.

She’d learned that cool pose from a comic, perfect for parting scenes destined for reunions.

Venti, of course, let her keep her flair, simply waving after her as he called out.

“—Together, let’s make the winds blow through this stagnant season!”

“…Enough with the speeches. We’re Wildfire! We’ll turn the Upper District’s injustice and those Fragmentum monsters into ashes!”

After retorting, Seele finally continued on her way.

Venti watched her leave, but after only a few steps, she glanced back, accidentally locking eyes with him.

Her ears went red as she scurried off, as though flustered or with something urgent to attend to.

With a chuckle, Venti mused, “What a charmingly stubborn, sweet girl—just like Vanessa.”

But, of course, no hero had only one companion.

It was time to seek out the next.

—

Rivet Town.

Once home to many in the Lower District, Rivet Town had been abandoned when the Silvermane Guards withdrew, leaving the residents defenseless against the Fragmentum monsters and forcing them to flee.

Now, only reckless fortune-seekers ventured here.

They were after supplies people hadn’t managed to take and the broken automaton guards left behind.

Though most automatons had been dismantled by monsters, some still contained operational parts.

If one could find a complete logic core, it was a huge score—one of the most valuable components for automaton maintenance in the Lower District.

So whether searching for abandoned supplies or salvaging parts from robots, Rivet Town held an allure for scavengers and fortune hunters alike.

Venti’s next “heroic companion” held an important role among this community of scavengers.

With calm and measured steps, he mapped the energy fluctuations around him, updating the scavenger route to ensure safety, all while searching for the elusive “Crimson Rabbit.”

Updating the map was a small service for Natasha and Wildfire. In the Lower District, a day without threats was rare; constant battles with Fragmentum monsters or skirmishes with raiders always caused casualties.

With minimal medical supplies, Wildfire sometimes had to risk trips to Rivet Town to scavenge for essentials.

The map helped reduce the toll on their people.

After a careful sweep of Rivet Town’s outskirts, Venti moved toward the inner area, where the concentration of Fragmentum monsters would grow.

While the outer areas had been thoroughly scavenged, the inner parts, heavily influenced by the Fragmentum and hastily abandoned, still held scattered resources.

When the lockdown first began, the Upper District had generously supplied Rivet Town, partly to save face and partly to pacify the people.

Even ten years later, remnants of supplies could still be found in hidden corners.

The most perishable food was gone within the first three years; those coming here now sought medical or durable mechanical supplies.

This meant his chances of encountering the “Crimson Rabbit” were considerably high.

And if luck failed him, he could still rely on his omnipresent winds to listen for any “unusual sounds.”

With his skill in locating sounds, he not only evaded monsters but also found the ghostly scavenger herself, standing near a broken automaton in a narrow alley.

She had hair as white as snow, wrapped in a warm, stylish red winter coat, and skin as smooth and pale as porcelain. Most striking were her delicate, bare feet on the cold stone floor.

Despite her lack of footwear, she seemed unfazed by the chill, as though cold didn’t touch her.

Unlike most scavengers with their rough and dirty appearances, not a speck of dust marred her pristine figure. She looked as pure as a spirit in freshly fallen snow.

She immediately heard Venti’s intentionally audible footsteps and swiftly darted behind cover like a snow rabbit, a faint red glow flashing beneath her hood.

Not every scavenger held goodwill toward their kind, and not every footstep was human.

One needed constant vigilance in such a dangerous place; otherwise, it was only a matter of time before losing one’s life. She had learned this brutal rule of survival early.

Only after peeking through the cracks and recognizing Venti did she relax a little. Pulling back her hood, she revealed bright, ruby-red eyes full of a hesitant yet yearning gaze.

“Good morning—or evening, Little Clara.”

In the Lower District, where there was no sunlight and people worked in mines, enduring noise and crystal dust, time held little meaning, and greetings were rare.

After all, who knew if they’d survive until tomorrow? Few wasted time on formalities.

But for this gentle, reserved girl, such a warm, family-like greeting brought her a sense of longing and contentment.

“…Hello, Sister Venti…”

Visibly brightened, Clara stepped out from behind her cover, still shy.

Venti found her pure and adorable, and as for any particular title she might use—that hardly mattered.

His friends’ happiness was worth more than any name.

“Good, good. Have you finished your work for today? I have something I’d like to talk to you about.”

Venti was straightforward.

When speaking with Clara, excessive politeness could be misleading.

Once, he’d asked if he might invite her to hear a “song of the high heavens.”

Shy as she was, she’d wanted to accept but was convinced her duties came first. Then she worried about how to “hear a song from the heavens.”

If Venti hadn’t explained, she might still be puzzling over how to build a jetpack to fly up.

So, with Clara, sincerity and warmth were best.

And most important of all—treat her with the patience of family.

—

T/N: umm who’s Twarin or Tavaren, I switched it to Vanessa for now!