Solo Player vs Troll (5)

Ha.

Watching the entire gallery dogpile him into oblivion filled me with a deep, private satisfaction. And it wasn't just the gallery — the global chat window open beside it was lighting up with the same energy.

Friendly reactions pouring in from every direction — I caught myself nodding along without even meaning to.

Called it. That bastard really is a piece of shit.

At that point, I decided there was no need to keep monitoring the community. I minimized the chat window and the gallery tab, then looked up to find Jessica already standing there with a draft of the plan in hand.

"Commander, here."

"Mm."

"I refined the draft a bit while on comms with Belial."

Hearing that it had already been reviewed by Belial — who, by design, had a decent amount of fleet-combat expertise — I nodded and took the plan. After a quick look-over, I made up my mind to put it into action immediately.

As expected, the gallery's reaction had Melon — or whatever his name was — feeling plenty guilty.

He kept spamming chat requests, looking thoroughly panicked. But I'd been preparing for a long time specifically to screw this guy over in the most physical way possible.

Nope. Not happening. Not talking. Go away.

I blocked him on the spot, then turned toward the command center screen where Belial, Ignis, and Pashtura were waiting.

"Alright, everyone. You've all reviewed the operation plan, correct?"

"Yes, Commander."

"All preparations are complete."

"Just give the word anytime, Commander♡"

"Good. Then launch immediately!"

"Yes, sir!"

At the same moment, inside Melon's base command center.

"Goddammit! Why the hell won't he take my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠chat?!"

A professional aggro-farmer by trade, he looked like he was genuinely bleeding out under the sudden crisis.

"You piece of shit! Just answer the damn chat!"

Anyone could tell he'd been blocked, yet he kept spamming chat requests in a complete loss of reason — a truly pathetic sight. Of course, the reason a man who'd been overflowing with smug confidence just a few hours ago had ended up like this was largely thanks to the gallery post he'd made. The old saying about life's ups and downs existed for a reason.

Not that Melon would have understood it even if someone said it to his face. In that head of his, he'd just accuse them of speaking Chinese and launch into some nationalist troll rant about never surrendering.

"C-Commander, please calm down first…"

"Calm down?! How the hell am I supposed to calm down right now?!"

Thwack!

"Augh?!"

Even in the middle of all this, Melon was viciously taking it out on his completely innocent adjutant — the cat beastkin Maya — before launching into a full-blown rampage, hurling every object in his command center.

Crash! Bang!

But while Melon was smashing his own furniture to vent his rage, a sharp alert tone cut through the noise from the command console he'd thrown aside.

Beep-beep! Beep-beep!

Even after taking a hit from her commander, Maya managed to keep her wits about her. Her cat ears twitched atop her head as she snatched up the console and checked the situation…

And then—

"Commander… Commander!"

"Hah… hah… What the fuck is it?!"

"Enemies! The enemy commander's fleet has appeared!"

"What the fuck?!"

At Maya's urgent report, the color drained from Melon's face in an instant, leaving it bone-white. But as her next words landed, that pale face snapped right back to normal.

"Enemy count: seven ships… two destroyers, two frigates, three corvettes!"

"…For real?"

"Yes. And both destroyers are… transport-type, sir!"

"What?"

The moment he heard that last part, Melon acted as if the terror he'd just been drowning in had never existed at all.

"Good. Call up every fleet and every Super not assigned to base defense, right now!"

"Yes, Commander!"

"A 'veteran,' my ass — he really was just some broke-ass scrub! I was right all along!"

"Indeed, Commander!"

Eager to intercept Icarus's fleet, Melon began launching his main force — including his flagship, the Overseer. He never once suspected that the fleet in front of him was bait, carefully laid out by Icarus to reel him in.

And at that same moment—

"They've taken the bait."

"Confirmed. Fleet, one-eighty reverse and withdraw."

The moment Melon's main fleet was confirmed leaving its base, Belial ordered the bait fleet to retreat at once. At the same time, she began shadowing Melon's fleet from a carefully maintained distance — far enough to stay outside the Overseer's detection range.

"Why the hell are we so slow?! Move faster!"

"Yes, Commander."

Melon, of course, had no idea any of this was happening and kept up the chase. But no matter how high-performance a ship the Overseer was, the rest of the fleet escorting it was no better than Icarus's. Having been late to launch from sitting in base, Melon's fleet soon lost all trace of Icarus's ships.

"Aaaargh!"

His fury boiling over once again, Melon started flinging nearby objects around in another display of pure rage-management failure. But that, too, was only temporary.