Nice Boat
Gathering intel from the global chat like that was only the beginning, of course.
Between the despair, the trolls, and — for reasons I still couldn't fathom — a cult that had somehow slithered its way into the conversation, I danced a blade through every scrap of intel I could find. And at last, I was ready to offer up a proper ritual for the ship rank-up.
"SQUEEEEEEEAL!!!"
"They said you need a pig's head, but can't we just use this instead?"
"If you do that, I don't think you'll be clearing karma so much as getting it back twofold."
Even mid-setup, I'd tried to swap in a canned ham for the ceremonial pig's head — only to get a sharp warning from Jessica not to completely lose my mind. Still, karma cleansing was a serious business, so I went well beyond the usual "draw some water and pray" routine and threw myself into a full-blown sacrificial rite, pulling every ridiculous stunt I could think of.
"What on earth is the Commander doing, Jessica?"
"Hmm… I'd call it the ultimate act of pointless flailing to reset his luck…?"
"It seems the Commander has been building up quite a lot of stress without realizing it♡"
That was my loyal superhumans. And they weren't the only ones.
"I heard from Oxianor, but what exactly are you doing?"
"Ah — Princess Luca?"
"Icarus! If your work fatigue has piled up too high, taking a short rest is also a valid method!"
Even Princess Luca — who normally either floated around in the nutrient fluid inside the Nest of Life or wandered the base just playing — had come by looking thoroughly puzzled. Even so, I pressed on, cobbling together a slapdash ritual from everything I'd half-heard in the gallery and chat windows. Once I'd finished a thorough purification bath on top of that, I felt it in my bones: the moment to roll the guaranteed ship rank-up had finally arrived.
"So this is… the sensation of being reborn."
"Isn't that just because you just got out of the bath?"
"Hey — who do you think you're jinxing right now?"
I clamped a hand over Jessica's mouth before she could say anything else that might scare the good fortune away, straightened my uniform with care, and approached our Multi-dimensional Fixed Causality Generator with a newly solemn bearing, ready to pull the gacha at once.
Of course, the previous streak of pure spite from the system had left me considerably more cautious. Bow once before inserting the ticket. Draw water after putting it in. Pray. Every inefficient superstition in the book, one after another.
"Commander, you're looking especially unhinged on the superstition front today, nnya."
"It can't be helped. Sometimes, when things go sideways, a person just needs something to lean on."
Behind me, two animal-eared women muttered like ordinary civilians watching Mars cultists forty thousand years in the future. I ignored them completely, finished every last "necessary" rite, and stared at the glittering gacha machine with genuine anticipation for whatever might emerge.
And then the machine — which had sparkled the same way last time — erupted in light far more dazzling than when it had spat out that feminist canned ham. Jessica and Smeragi, who'd been dragged along as an escort, both leaned in with curiosity in their eyes.
But once that spectacular light show finally ended and the mouth of our gacha machine — no, the Multi-dimensional Fixed Causality Generator — opened…
"Uung? Commander, there's nothing inside, nnya."
"Why is there nothing? It's a guaranteed-use ticket — no matter how terrible the result, at least one ship should come out, shouldn't it…?"
Both of them stared into the empty apparatus in open bewilderment. Jessica, at least, had an excuse — since I'd arrived here, I had never once pulled a ship from the gacha machine, so of course she wouldn't know. But Smeragi had served under another commander before me. She should have seen this plenty of times. Why was she reacting like that…?
The thought barely had time to form.
"Oh, is that so? Got it — heading to the command center now."
The command-center NPC's call had come at the perfect moment. I gave a nod to the two still wearing puzzled expressions.
"Come on — let's go see what showed up. Whatever it is, at least a functional ship should have arrived."
"Ah, yes."
"Understood, nnya."
Of course, after delivering that cool line — what if the ship that warped in was something like a D-grade standard patrol craft…?
Ugh, no, don't even imagine that.
Every single ridiculous stunt I'd pulled right up until now — no, all day long — would have been completely wasted. So the entire walk to the command center, my stride stayed confident while inside I was chewing my nails raw with anxiety.
Please, at least let it be S-grade. Even A-grade or higher would be fine, please…
Naturally, the longer that feeling dragged on, the faster my confidence cratered in proportion. And the moment I stood right in front of the command center door, that mood hit its absolute peak and absolute bottom at the same time…
Ah, screw it. What am I even doing.
The sudden realization that I was overthinking every last useless detail made me shake my head. I took one deep breath, then pushed the door open with full confidence and stepped inside.
And the instant I did—
"OH JESUS FUCKING CHRIST YEAAAAAAAH!!!!"
"Commander?!"
"The Commander's gone completely insane, nnya!"
A ship so enormous that even the massive observation window spanning the front of the command center couldn't contain its full silhouette had appeared before our base, casting a shadow across the entire room. And then—
Strategic Missile Platform Battleship
『 Hresvelgr 』
The moment that glorious name appeared before my eyes, I dropped to my knees right there on the floor and roared my victory cry in every direction at once.
"KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!"
Nice Boat. (4)
What exactly is a strategic missile platform battleship?
To put it bluntly, by our standards it was what you'd call an Arsenal Ship — a missile-spam vessel. More precisely, the battleship-class version of that ship type.
In short, the appearance of Hresvelgr — an Arsenal Ship ver. battleship — filled me with pure joy… for a moment. Then, as the chaos and euphoria gradually settled and my mind cleared, my eyes began to take in the actual structure of the newly arrived Hresvelgr.
And looking at it properly… how to put this.
"Hmm… that is…"
"It looks like a space oil tanker."