Once the idea struck her, Rora Starsea wasted no time.
She rolled up her sleeves and began sketching — copying from memory, refining, reshaping, until the image in her mind started to take form on paper.
For the exterior design, she drew inspiration from the ancient-style architecture she loved most —
those graceful, tranquil buildings that once stood amidst gardens and flowing water in the southern lands of her homeworld.
Fortunately, the one-star construction guide she had reviewed earlier contained sample images and approximate dimensions.
As long as she stayed within those limits, she was free to design as she pleased.
Rora had always been enamored with southern garden architecture.
In her old life, she'd even planned to save enough credits to settle down in the southern provinces one day.
That dream was gone now —
but perhaps she could recreate it, here on this strange alien world.
Memories of the gardens she'd once visited flickered before her eyes.
Pen in hand, she began to draw, one careful stroke at a time.
Half an hour later, she leaned back, stared at the paper, and sighed.
She had to admit it — art was not one of her natural talents.
If only there were a way to copy the image straight from her mind…
then she wouldn't have to painstakingly draw every line herself.
Wait.
This was the Interstellar Era.
Maybe that kind of technology actually existed!
She quickly tapped open her wristband and sent a message to Evergreen.
Rora Starsea: Is there any way to directly recreate the image I'm imagining in my head?
The reply came almost instantly.
Evergreen: There is. I'll bring it over right away.
Ten minutes later, there was a knock on her door.
Evergreen handed her a sleek, silver headset.
"This is a holo-design helmet," he explained.
"It's used by professional architects. You can model structures directly in a holographic environment.
Once you're done, connect it to your wristband and export the design as a template."
Rora accepted it with both hands, eyes gleaming with excitement.
It was the first time she'd seen something so tangible from the futuristic world she'd only read about in novels.
After quickly thanking Evergreen, she couldn't wait another second.
She slipped on the helmet.
The world went dark — then burst into light.
She found herself standing in a vast, empty, luminous space.
Rora closed her eyes, letting her mind replay every detail of the garden architecture she remembered.
Moments later, the blank space began to shimmer.
Images unfolded before her —
black-tiled roofs and whitewashed walls, curved eaves that reached toward the sky,
pavilions and towers scattered amidst tranquil ponds and sculpted bridges.
The landscape flowed with balance and grace,
as though heaven itself had descended into the digital void.
When the vast panorama finally stabilized, Rora realized something astonishing:
her memory was clearer than ever.
Details she once barely remembered — like the intricate carvings on the lattice windows —
were now vivid, flawless, perfect.
Was it because of her fusion with the Star Spirit's power?
She couldn't be sure.
But as she gazed at the familiar scenery before her, a sense of quiet satisfaction filled her heart.
Thankfully, she'd once spent hours watching videos and reading books about these classical gardens —
otherwise she'd never have remembered them in such exquisite detail.
After carefully checking every corner of the design, she finally exited the simulation.
Following Evergreen's instructions, she linked the helmet to her wristband and exported the architectural model.
But then, a new problem occurred to her.
The flora.
All those elegant willows, lotuses, and bamboo groves from her design —
did such plants even exist in this interstellar era?
She summoned the Star Spirit.
"Tell me," she asked, projecting the model into the air, "do these plants exist on this planet?"
The Star Spirit tilted his head, studying the floating image.
"Maybe," he said uncertainly. "They look similar to some of our plants… but I can't say for sure.
There aren't many left here. I don't even know which species are still alive."
Rora froze.
That was right — this planet was covered in endless mountains of garbage.
She tried to recall whether she'd seen any greenery at all since arriving… and realized she hadn't.
If any plants still existed, they were probably buried deep beneath the waste.
"Then tell me," Rora asked, voice firm,
"where can I find a place on this planet where vegetation still grows normally?"
The Star Spirit, being the soul of this world, would know.
If anyone could find life here — it was him.
As expected, the Star Spirit only paused for a few seconds before replying."About three hundred kilometers away, in the six o'clock direction," he said, "there's a fairly large forest. You could take a look there.But it's dangerous — that area has never been cleared. Many mutant beasts and other aggressive creatures live inside."
"Mutant beasts?" Rora Starsea raised a brow. "I haven't seen any around here."
"Mutant beasts are ordinary animals that accidentally consumed something strange," the Star Spirit explained."Their bodies changed — they grew larger, stronger, and more violent. But they don't possess special abilities like awakened beings do."
Rora nodded slowly.She could already feel her power growing — her body was changing silently, day by day.Ever since she'd learned that a level-0 Star Master could be freely hunted by anyone level-1 and above, a sense of urgency had burned in her chest.She wanted — no, needed — to test her strength.
"It's fine," she said calmly. "I'll be careful."
The Star Spirit saw the determination in her eyes and knew that, no matter what he said, she wouldn't change her mind.So he held his tongue.
Once Rora made up her decision, she stepped outside to borrow a hover bike from Acha.
The vehicle resembled the motorcycles from her old world — sleek, streamlined — only without wheels.Its speed was astonishing: it covered the three-hundred-kilometer trip in just half an hour.
Upon reaching the forest, Rora stored the hover bike back into her wristband's dimensional space.The internal storage was vast — so large she couldn't even see the end of it — so she'd simply dumped all her belongings inside.
She turned toward the forest ahead.The trees along the edge were half-buried under piles of garbage, only their crowns still visible.If things continued this way, the forest would shrink rapidly — perhaps within a few decades, it would vanish completely.
No wonder the animals here had mutated.They must've eaten something from the waste.
Rora took out an iron rod from her wristband and strode into the forest.
Her gaze swept across the area — and then she froze.There, among the withered trunks, she spotted something familiar:a weeping willow.
She quickly activated her wristband's scanner, recording its structure and data.
As she bent over to check the scan results, a sudden chill crawled up her spine.Without thinking, she leapt aside.
A thin, dark shadow shot past where she'd just stood.
She turned her head — and saw it.A black serpent, its forked tongue flicking the air, scarlet eyes glowing with malice.Its jaws gaped wide, revealing two gleaming fangs that suddenly extended forward —a drop of clear liquid slid down their tips, falling onto a patch of green weeds.
Zzzzt—
The moment the venom touched the leaves, smoke hissed upward.The vibrant green turned to charred black in an instant.
Rora drew in a sharp breath.So toxic…
But she didn't retreat.Her eyes locked on the serpent's, unwavering.She knew — in a standoff like this, showing fear would only provoke it further.
The snake's speed was impressive; she could dodge it easily enough.But she had no idea how far that venom could spray — and one careless move could mean instant death.
She hadn't intended to fight.She had no idea what had provoked the creature — but it suddenly lunged again, striking toward her.
Rora swung the iron rod with precise force, aiming for the seven-inch mark — the serpent's fatal point.
Crack!
Caught off guard, the snake couldn't evade.Her blow sent it flying, smashing it against a nearby tree trunk.
It hit the ground hard, body twisting and coiling in reflexive pain.Then, in its flailing, it accidentally knotted itself — its body looping into a tight dead tie.
Rora blinked, half in disbelief.The once menacing serpent now wriggled helplessly, unable to attack again.
Rora tightened her grip on the iron rod. Without a moment's hesitation, she swung it high and brought it crashing down on the black snake's head. The snake, still writhing and trying to untie itself from its own coils, went instantly still.
She stumbled back several steps, nerves still taut, her heart pounding in her chest. When the adrenaline finally began to ebb, she exhaled a shaky breath and prepared to leave. But then, a thought struck her — she quickly lifted her wrist and scanned the snake with her bracelet.
Moments later, a line of data flickered across the holographic display.
[Species: Mutated Blackhide Serpent][Status: Near Death][Market Value: 10,000 Starcoins]
Her eyes widened in surprise. Ten thousand Starcoins — for a single snake? Her exhaustion instantly vanished. She paused mid-step, gaze locking on the decapitated serpent, the light in her eyes suddenly burning with greed and excitement.
She rummaged through her bracelet's inventory and pulled out a rough cloth sack. Using the iron rod to prop the mouth of the bag open, she crouched carefully beside the carcass. Then, with another stick, she nudged the limp body of the snake into the sack.
The moment the snake's remains slipped inside, the bag lurched violently — the creature was still twitching, still struggling as if it refused to die.
But Rora was ready for that. She swiftly hooked the drawstring with her rod, yanked it tight, and sealed the bag with a firm knot. Then, without hesitation, she tossed the entire thing back into her bracelet's storage space.
Having unexpectedly made a tidy profit, Rora moved deeper into the forest, scanning and recording plants along the way. By the time she decided to head back, she had catalogued several valuable species — worth tens of thousands of Starcoins altogether.
Her excitement made her lose track of time. When she finally looked up, she realized dusk had already fallen. The forest, dim even during the day, was now swallowed by darkness.
Her heart gave a hard thump. Activating the bracelet's light function, she used its soft glow to orient herself and began to make her way back.
But not long after she left, a faint rustling echoed from the underbrush she had just passed through — a low, scraping sound that raised goosebumps. Something heavy was dragging itself over the ground.
From between the tangled weeds, a massive shape began to emerge — a serpent thick as a man's thigh, its scales glistening dully under the faint light. The giant python lifted its head high, tongue flickering out as if tasting the air.
It lingered for a moment, as though confirming a direction. Then, with slow, sinuous movements, it slithered forward — its body stretching endlessly through the brush.
When at last the tip of its tail disappeared from the grass, it was clear:the direction it was heading was exactly the same as Rora Starsea's.