Honkai: Star Rail – From the Moment Tom The Cat Became My Passenger

Seeing the interested looks Silver Wolf and Kafka were throwing his way, Yevenko cleared his throat.

"Uh, I mean, we're all cat owners here, right? How about we let bygones be bygones—for my cat's sake?"

Kafka's smile deepened, lips parting ever so slightly.

"Sure. Leave the cat with us. As long as you don't speak a word of what happened here, we'll let you go."

Yevenko didn't hesitate for even a second. He immediately shook his head.

"No can do. Tom's my best friend. My powerhouse support."

No follow-up of 'but I'll need extra pay.'

Kafka gave a faint nod, her voice quiet.

"That's a shame."

She raised her gun.

Seeing this, Yevenko raised his [Tom's Fencing Rapier] and called out to Tom,

"Tom, prepare for battle."

"We'll combine swords and be unstoppable!"

With that, he immediately ducked behind Tom.

Unstoppable meaning—Yevenko stays alive, Tom is the one doing the impossible.

The moment Yevenko finished speaking, Tom spun in place like a tiny whirlwind. Moments later, the spin stopped—and he was fully kitted out.

A D'Artagnan-style cavalier's hat rested on his head. A crimson knight's cloak draped across his shoulders. A rapier gleamed in his hand, and his eyes were sharp with purpose.

This time, Tom didn't run. A swordsman had his pride. He launched the attack.

One step forward left a blur of afterimages in his wake—he closed the distance to Kafka in an instant and thrust the rapier straight toward her.

He moved so fast that Kafka was caught slightly off guard. Her once-languid gaze sharpened with focus as she raised her gun to block the strike.

Clang———!

The rapier met the barrel with a sharp metallic ring.

But Tom's assault was far from over. In this moment, he was the very image of a legendary fencing master. The rapier danced like an extension of his body, each strike raining down like a storm, relentless and precise. Every blow angled for Kafka's weak points with uncanny accuracy.

The ringing clash of gun and sword filled the air.

Kafka's light-pink irises brimmed with surprise. She had assumed the cat was just playing along with Yevenko's antics—at most, an amusing oddity.

Now, she was feeling actual pressure.

She seized an opening, driving her knee toward Tom's gut. But Tom was ready—he met it with a knee of his own. The clash sent both combatants skidding apart.

Kafka raised both guns and squeezed the triggers rapidly, flame bursting from the muzzles.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Bullets rained from all directions, aiming to pin Tom down.

But Tom didn't panic. He swept his rapier in elegant arcs, leaving behind a flurry of afterimages, each stroke like a rose blooming mid-air. In a flash, he parried the hail of bullets, sparks flying from each impact.

Smoldering rounds clattered to the floor.

Tom pressed forward again, resuming close-quarters combat with Kafka, the pressure like a storm cloud collapsing inward.

As for Kafka's signature word-weaving techniques? Against a swordsman with will as firm as steel, they were meaningless.

Silver Wolf pressed her lips together and popped another piece of bubblegum into her mouth. Watching the duel unfold, she muttered,

"Hm. This could be a problem."

"I thought this was a bonus event. Turns out it's a combat encounter."

"Not much time left. We need to find a way out."

Chewing slowly, Silver Wolf shifted her gaze away from Tom and Kafka. It landed on Yevenko, who was calmly drinking milk in the corner.

Their eyes met—briefly.

A thought came to her. Maybe they could settle this with words. She began walking toward him.

Yevenko didn't move. He didn't retreat behind Tom. He stayed seated.

He didn't sense hostility from her—and more importantly, he knew Silver Wolf was one of the top hackers among the Stellaron Hunters. Despite wielding the power to rewrite real-world data through Aether Editing, she didn't seem to possess direct high-level offensive capabilities.

Besides, with the power of fifty-fifty odds on his side, it didn't matter if Silver Wolf approached—or even if an Aeon were to appear right in front of him—he'd...

...well, maybe still get a little nervous. Pretend he didn't say that.

If she randomly warped him to some remote part of the galaxy, that might be a hassle. But he could always use his link to the Astral Express to teleport back.

Earlier, when Tom dragged him from the Express into the wider universe, it was a spur-of-the-moment fluke. He'd frozen from shock, nearly suffocating before he passed out.

While his thoughts wandered, Silver Wolf had already reached him. The two met each other's gaze, each reaching a hand behind their back.

"Want a bottle?"

"Want a piece?"

Yevenko pulled out a bottle of milk.

Silver Wolf held out a piece of bubblegum.

After a moment of mutual pause, they both said at the same time—

"Thanks."

"Thanks."

The opening was a little awkward, but they both understood: the other wasn't hostile. And that was the first step to real conversation.

Yevenko nodded and gestured with his right hand.

"Have a seat."

At his invitation, Silver Wolf crouched slightly and sat down beside him. They exchanged snacks, casually watching Tom and Kafka's duel.

Silver Wolf tried to think of a topic—something to break the ice. But this wasn't usually her job, and the effort came out a bit stiff.

She tilted her head slightly—only to see Yevenko beside her, gleefully blowing a bubble.

It popped almost immediately.

She blurted out, "There's a technique to blowing bubblegum, you know."

Yevenko turned to her at once, eyes bright.

"Oh? Do tell."

"Well, first, like this... and then that... like so..."

"Ohh, I get it. Kinda like fighting games—Street Fighter 6 has a bunch of mechanics like that too. Learned something new today."

"Eh? You play Street Fighter too?"

Yevenko blinked in surprise. He'd just casually dropped the name—but he hadn't expected this world to have that game too.

Silver Wolf kept talking.

"Didn't think anyone else around here still played that old-school stuff. But yeah—2D fighters are where it's at. Gamepads and arcade sticks for life."

The two of them dove into an animated discussion about Street Fighter 6, swapping techniques, promising to duel sometime, and even exchanging contact info on their phones.

Then—two shadows fell over them.

They looked up in unison.

Tom stood there, looking perfectly harmless.

And beside him, Kafka—beautiful, poised, and smiling in a way that could make hell itself shiver. Her voice was as gentle as a requiem.

"You two seem to be getting along quite well."

Freshly returned from their bonding session, Yevenko and Silver Wolf both happened to blow their gum bubbles to max size—

Pop.

Both burst, sticking all over their lips.

In perfect unison, they muttered—

"…Game over."

…

…