Performance Is Good, Performance Is (1)
[Compilation of cropped trust-rating-drop screenshots.jpg]
So a bunch of users from the surrounding zones all piled into the Central Zone — coincidence or not — and invaded en masse.
We're talking at least several thousand people involved, and these idiots still don't understand why only they lost trust rating.
Why do you think it dropped?
Because the user in question had dispatched part of his fleet as an expeditionary force to support his own faction — or another faction — and you lot stabbed him in the back mid-support. You think any faction looks kindly on that? lmaooo
A surprising number of users were busily self-destructing via certification posts, so the whole story about the invaders who'd hit me taking a trust-rating nosedive with the "Pirates" ended up getting quietly buried in the gallery.
Anyway. After roughly covering all of that with Jessica, I decided to finally put down the Emergency Ship Repair Facility I'd been putting off — minerals were so critically short after a week of nonstop repairs and production that I hadn't been able to afford it until now.
> Emergency Ship Repair Facility — Construction in progress…
> Time remaining until completion: 10 days, 6 hours, 5 minutes, 58 seconds
"Commander, once that finishes building, you'll be able to take the base to Level 7."
"Now that you mention it… the time has finally come."
The realization hit me — we were about to leave light carriers and battlecruisers behind and step into an era of battleships, fleet carriers, and all the other "specialty hulls."
Hell yeah. Straight into a million-strong carrier air wing and battleship big-gun supremacy, let's gooooo!
The knowledge that such a glorious age was only ten days and six hours away filled me with a deep and varied satisfaction.
Unfortunately, that happiness was still more than ten days and six hours out. What mattered right now was something else entirely…
"By the way, Commander — what do you plan to do with the supers whose ownership was transferred over from the other side?"
"…Hmm. Guess I'd better go take a look first."
The three supers I'd extracted from the Unity Clan as "damage compensation" still needed sorting out. I stood up and headed straight for the prison facility where they were being held.
When I arrived, Belial — left with nothing better to do after our entire fleet had been chewed to pieces — was filling in as warden, and she greeted me at the door.
"Welcome, Commander."
"Mm."
So that's where she went.
Returning her greeting, I took stock of the supers currently in custody.
"So these are all of them?"
"That is correct, Commander."
But the moment I moved to step inside—
"Since the Commander is inspecting them personally, I trust they're all properly restrained?"
"Of course. Superalloy restraints, triple-layered."
Jessica and Belial fussed over the safety checks again and again, clearly worried I might get taken hostage by the captured supers. The whole procedure was tedious enough that I briefly wondered whether we could just skip it — but the system only prevented NPCs from subjecting a Commander-slash-user to things like dismemberment or organ exhibitions. Pain and raw physical force were still very much on the table. So I obediently went along with their security theater.
After all that hassle, I finally entered what we'd loosely labeled a "prison facility" — really just a converted general warehouse. Inside, bound in restraints that looked extremely sturdy, I found Partia on one side, sitting demurely in her usual nun form and reading her order's scripture… and three figures on the other, each with four of Belial's personal combat puppets aiming at their heads.
"Oh my. You've come, Savior."
"Ah — so the two of you are guarding them together."
"Indeed. One of those lost little lambs is SSS-grade, after all… one must prepare for every contingency, no?"
Fully locked and loaded, huh.
While I was talking with Partia, the ones in restraints lifted their heads and looked at me — and in that exact moment:
"You bastard!"
"Send us back to Master right now, nya!"
"How long do you think you can keep us bound?"
"You piece of trash — just because you got ownership transferred from our Commander, you think we'll swear loyalty to you?!"
"That's right, nya!"
"…Whoa."
A wave of pure, unfiltered hostility erupted — the kind I never saw from our own supers. The sheer novelty of it was almost sensational.
Unfortunately for them, that particular choice of words was a very bad idea…
"Wha— how dare you spew such blasphemy at the Savior…?!"
"Ah."
Crrrk! Crack! Crrrk!
Partia — same order as Pashtura, and every bit as fanatically devoted to her "Commander" — heard those words and, right before my eyes, transformed. Despite the vague sense that she was getting slightly shorter over time while her chest and thighs stayed exactly the same, the shortstack nun erupted into a four-meter-tall mountain of pure muscle.
"You… you heretic!!"
WHAAAM!
She raised the scripture she'd been holding and brought it down like a divine judgment hammer straight onto the skull of the male super who'd mouthed off the hardest.
A moment later:
"Ah, well… there was a bit of a disturbance, but everyone seems to have quieted down. Good."
"Commander, that doesn't look like 'quieted down.' That looks like his head got caved in and he died."
Courtesy of Partia's little rampage, the three supers who'd been full of fight were now slumped over, blood streaming from their heads. Jessica, standing beside me, was reacting as if I'd just ordered an on-the-spot execution.
I waggled a finger at her, unbothered.
"Now, now, Jessica. It may look bad, but around here we've got ways of handling this."
"…In what universe?"
"Watch closely. And don't tell anyone…!"
I turned toward the collapsed figures and opened my mouth.
"Did we get them?"
"Guhhhk?!"
"Nnyaaaagh!"
"Kyah— hah, hahk?"
"…"
Watching the supers naturally "revive," I couldn't help but think there was no finer resurrection command phrase in existence — and I quietly congratulated myself on my excellent taste in catchphrases.
Jessica's expression had gone extremely complicated at the sight of me, but I decided to set that aside for now.
They'd woken up groaning, sure — but a second later Belial's puppet unit hit them with tranquilizers and they were out cold again. With that settled, I pulled up their status windows to figure out exactly what kind of catches I was dealing with.
The moment the information loaded, though…
Ah. This is a little awkward.
I couldn't shake the thought. It wasn't that their performance or leveling was bad — far from it. The problem was something else entirely. For all my constant whining about how short I was on supers, the reason I was suddenly feeling this ungrateful about a free windfall was…