HI3: Starting from the Previous Civilization

Mobius sat with one leg crossed over the other, slender fingers tapping the table, brows furrowed as she studied the data on her computer.

On the screen was a photo of Van Gogh High—specifically the middle school section—showing a rather lazy-looking student.

Last night, she received an email.

Initially, Mobius assumed it was like all those profit-driven businessmen who occasionally wanted to invest in her research.

She clicked it open out of boredom, only to discover someone offering to finance the construction of a private research facility for her.

Over the years, she had undertaken various research projects; dealing with merchants was nothing new. Yet deep down, Mobius had always wanted her own lab. Some lines of study simply could not be done in a public facility. Society would never tolerate it.

As for saving money? A scientist—especially a genius like her—couldn't really save up. Funds burned through in a flash.

Upon reading that email, Mobius hadn't immediately agreed. Instead, she asked some contacts to investigate carefully. After all, someone might feign interest in building a lab but actually be plotting something else. She'd encountered such people before and foiled them.

What Mobius found surprising was that the sender turned out to be a sixteen-year-old high schooler. Not too long ago, he lost his parents in a catastrophic incident and inherited a huge fortune. 

Mobius first thought, 'Maybe the boy was traumatized by his parents' deaths, and that's why he's doing this.' But the more she dug into his records, the more suspicious things seemed—especially regarding how his parents passed away.

She studied the file on her screen, lips curving into a smile, letting out a melodic laugh.

"Ahaha... intriguing. Very intriguing indeed."

"It appears this little fellow came across some interesting information," she mused. Her rosy lips curved into a bewitching grin—like a rose bristling with thorns, equally dangerous and alluring.

She drafted a brief reply to his email and sent it.

…

Meanwhile, Fan had returned home and collapsed onto his bed. 

He lay there with his eyes open, unable to sleep for a long time. 

Recalling the terrifying events of the night—the ghastly scene—his heart still pounded. 

He couldn't help wondering, 'If I were just an ordinary person without a system, how would I survive in this world? Probably… I'd have been another nameless victim killed by that Honkai Beast tonight.' 

He then remembered the extra nutrient potions he still had in his system space. The thought made him jump right out of bed. 

"That's it—I'm not going through tonight's humiliation again."

Walking over to his computer, he prepared to dive back into high-speed learning. But he noticed a blinking icon in the lower-right corner of his screen: a new email. 

He clicked to find it was from Mobius, asking if they could meet face-to-face sometime. 

"Face-to-face, huh?" 

Fan rubbed his chin, thinking. After what happened last night, he felt the need to act more carefully.

"So, Fire Moth apparently does exist already. But for now, they're not operating in public view. Looks like all the governments are covering up the Honkai situation. It must still be under control—or maybe they've gathered scientists in secret labs to study it."

He reflected on the world's corruption and the exploitation by capitalists, the darkness in human nature.

'Chances are, the First Herrscher will appear within the next few years,' he thought. 'Which means Fire Moth will soon officially form as a public organization—likely portrayed as a charitable group, with every country pitching in. But it'll be a huge melting pot of scheming. And before that day comes, they'll definitely reach out to Mobius.'

Piecing everything together, Fan's lips curled into a curious smile. 

He stood up in front of the computer, raised both arms as if praising the sun—though it might simply be that the past couple of days, plus that night's trauma, had rattled him so much that he was a bit off.

"Hahahaha… Fascinating. Simply fascinating. What kind of storm will this little butterfly stir up?" 

On the monitor's dark reflection, Fan's manic grin looked eerie. 

"If dear Dr. Mobius has to choose, will she let Fire Moth tie her down with bureaucracy and skim off her funding, or will she join me?" 

Clutching his head, Fan laughed again. "Hahaha…"

After a while, he stopped, his face going cold and expressionless as ice. He quickly wrote and sent a reply to Mobius. 

Then he activated his Noble Phantasm and dove into another intense study session. Whenever he thought he'd collapse, he chugged another nutrient potion. 

Elsewhere, Mobius read Fan's email. 

"Three days from now? Very well. I'll wait," she said.

Back on Fan's side, once he used up the last of his nutrient potions, he continued studying, relying on his memory. Time slipped by. 

The antique clock chimed: dong, dong, dong… It was now midnight.

The system's daily tasks refreshed right then. Fan displayed a half-mad grin. (He hadn't slept in two days, and coupled with last night's trauma, he was on edge.)

Early next morning, he changed into a fresh tracksuit and went out for a run despite his red-rimmed eyes. After finishing the daily mission and earning some coins, he used part of them to buy more nutrient potions and opened his Noble Phantasm state again.

With single-use advanced tech from the system, he built a hidden bunker or lab beneath his house. In the blink of an eye, three days had passed.

His self-punishing training method had paid off tremendously. He could now handle the recoil of that grenade launcher without much trouble. He also completed double the daily tasks, increasing his speed notably.

At last, the day to meet Mobius arrived.

First impressions are crucial, so Fan woke up early, carefully dressing himself to leave a good impression on her. In the mirror, he saw messy black hair, a crisp black suit, and freshly polished shoes giving off an air of refinement—though the huge dark circles under his eyes somewhat ruined the look.