After a busy day, Hathor returned to Sterry. The chatter and cheer inside was somewhat inviting. The Mentor warmly introduced two new members of Sterry: Haniel and Illica. Hathor didn't have any particular thoughts about their arrival and simply nodded in acknowledgment. Following the Mentor's arrangements was something she was used to. If Hathor were to recall her feelings from meeting with Haniel and Illica, she'd probably say: Very energetic, great couriers. However, while interacting with them over the following few days, Hathor gradually realized that the relationships between the five of them weren't as smooth as expected. The Mentor and Jenson, who were familiar with her, could sense her true thoughts from her expressions and actions even when she said nothing, and knew she wasn't intentionally cold. The two new members didn't seem to understand, though. Perhaps due to her icy exterior, they always showed some instinctive wariness, completely different from how lively they were when facing the Mentor. Just as Hathor was repeatedly pondering how to explain to them that she simply wasn't good at socializing, a conversation with the Mentor changed everything. She was given a unique commission: spend time with Haniel and Illica, and understand the lives of modern youngsters. This was a task with a clear directive, so she didn't hesitate. However, when actually facing the two, taking the initiative to speak proved much more difficult than expected. Hathor had mentally rehearsed scenarios for initial conversations many times and had even prepared several backup plans for dealing with awkward silences. So, during a rare chat session, she tentatively asked about their daily hobbies. The following responses completely deviated from her expectations: "Of course it's watching the greatest manga of this century, 'Gen Z'!" "Buying merch, going to events, analyzing the lore with fellow fans on Bagel, conventions, live events, and wotagei!" "Seasonal anime previews, fan arts, weekly new episodes… we never miss a single one!" Faced with Haniel's enthusiastic string of recommendations, Hathor showed visible confusion: What is wotagei? What is an "anime"? Just as Hathor was about to interrupt and give her brain some time to process, she caught sight of Illica, who was eagerly waiting with excitement to join the conversation. She fell silent for a moment and held herself back from speaking. If they'd really like to talk about it… then listening for a while longer wouldn't hurt.

In Sterry's early days, there were only three people. Though few in number, they had clear divisions of labor. The Mentor, well-versed in human weaknesses, frequently moved in social circles, while Jenson, with his proper speech and meticulous attention to protocol and rules, could break through negotiation deadlocks with just a few words, making him better suited for business cooperation discussions. However, from beginning to end, Hathor always maintained some reservations toward Jenson. Her sharp instincts for danger, honed through long training, whispered warnings that this man wasn't as rule-abiding as he appeared, though the Mentor's good working relationship with him indicated that Jenson could currently be trusted. As for the heavy responsibility of package delivery, it naturally fell to Hathor, who joined last. Sterry's Elite Courier, the tough biker chick of few words, first choice for urgent delivery quests. Regular items, fragile goods, anomaly packages—all reached their destinations accurately, safely, and intact to the roar of her motorcycle. Some statistics claimed that her single-day record was 200 regular deliveries and 11 anomaly containers, all completed while assisting as an Anomaly Hunter contain two Class III anomalies. She was truly a tireless delivery machine: cold, ruthless, efficient. Hathor herself hadn't noticed that such a pace was too demanding and had gone on too long. It wasn't until she returned one day to the shop, seeing her Mentor smiling and introducing Sterry's new members, that Hathor truly realized how exhuasted from work she was.

Regalia's motorcycle key is crafted with a streamlined metal casing and delicately polished edges. The key's teeth are slightly worn, bright traces left behind from years of starting up. Such wear marks are only left when the holder is able to move with precision, cleanly, and without excess force. Hundreds, thousands of identical motions are required to achieve such perfect balance. When alone, Hathor sometimes turns the key once. The turn is always accompanied by a soft click. She has never liked unnecessary noise, yet this sound is one she's never tried to eliminate. It was a calm yet restless night when a welcome gift was silently handed to her through her Mentor's quiet kindness—which later became a habit rooted deep in her heart. What truly captivated her came later, when the engine sets the rhythm, marking missions received and quests completed.

"Heavy rainfall ahead with flooding of unknown depth. In situations like this, it's best to take a detour and avoid the risk." "Hethereau is in the middle of rush hour traffic, so there's a high probability of congestion at the next intersection. Fortunately, the target isn't far, so switching to delivery on foot would be more efficient." "When the road surface is rough, I recommend switching to non-slip tires. When passing through gravel, you need to adjust your center of gravity promptly to maintain stability." "Night deliveries require constant vigilance, so blind spots must be checked repeatedly. Only proceed once safety is confirmed."

To master anime culture, Hathor approached it with the spirit of tackling a difficult challenge: learning from Haniel and diving into "Gen Z." Unlike the typical anime-watcher, Hathor wasn't a fantasy-type viewer who would arrange figurines and acrylic stands in magic circle formations, press "summon" on the latest Cubox Technologies tablet, then chant incantations to bless the spirit of binge-watching 24 episodes straight (none of which Haniel did). Instead, during planned time periods, she pulled out a 1,000-page notebook to record various questions that arose while watching, and after finishing each episode, she wrote a review analyzing plot highlights, viewer comment dynamics, character relationships, and more. She never skipped episodes or watched in double speed, and she categorized and filed the personal styles of the main creative team's directors, scriptwriters, and animation staff. After several days of study, during chats with Haniel, Hathor could accurately state which episode each character appeared in and how people on the internet reacted to the scene. When Haniel asked how she did this, Hathor explained what she meant by "diving into an anime." When Haniel seemed shocked, Hathor quietly wondered to herself: Perhaps I should've tried harder…?

One day after finishing her delivery quests, Hathor was riding her motorcycle as usual, speeding away down the road. Perhaps because she'd been watching too much anime lately, the massive billboard advertisement for "Gen Z" unusually caught Hathor's attention. The limited venue merchandise shown in the promotional image was a term Hathor had been hearing frequently recently, and it looked familiar. The items could only be purchased through limited offline channels, like exclusive conventions, shops, or cafes. As it happened, there was a shop nearby that Haniel had been talking about for ages, and somehow, Hathor felt like trying her luck. The phrase "trying her luck" shouldn't appear in the vocabulary of someone accustomed to precision operations. Since getting into anime culture, Hathor had gradually begun accepting things in life that carried "randomness": the randomness of gacha pulls, daily fragmented discussions about new anime with her two fellow fans, the randomness of new terms popping up unexpectedly, the "pseudo-randomness" of whether limited venue merchandise could be obtained, and so on… Today also brought a random event: the spontaneous decision to detour to a limited merchandise shop after finishing deliveries. Next she would "try her luck" on limited goods, and then give an unexpected gift to the two little owls… Hathor habitually kept herself wound tight, perhaps due to muscle memory from early high-intensity deliveries, or the professional discipline of strictly following plans, plus the careful caution she'd always maintained toward her Esper after losing control. But since she'd begun learning about "modern youngster life" from those two, something called "randomness" had started taking root in her body. Like noticing the billboard advertisement today, like suddenly detouring to a merchandise shop, like putting a gift that wasn't on her quest list into her pouch. She had never so clearly realized that she had been wound too tight for too long, so long that she'd forgotten she actually lived in a city full of human warmth and life.