Titan Customization
“For example, a high-mobility Titan.”
“W-whoa, whoa, whoa. Isn’t this a bit too extreme? Are you sure this is okay?”
“Let’s strip it down a little more.”
The process began by removing everything except the Titan’s core frame, its thrusters, and the lower body designed for acceleration. In their place, we attached ultra-lightweight streamlined armor meant solely to minimize air resistance. This wasn’t about defense. It was a choice made purely for speed.
To mount high-powered weaponry capable of piercing heavy-armor Titans, we expanded the frame on one arm. At the same time, the opposite arm received a counterweight weapon to maintain balance. And then, for example, a bombardment-type Titan.
“It’s so big and heavy that running feels awkward.”
“I know. That’s why it’s good.”
We installed hydraulic spikes on the soles of the Titan’s feet for grounding. Close-quarters combat wasn’t even considered. Both arms were removed and replaced with gun barrels dedicated to firepower. Additional external frames were attached, allowing us to mount missile pods and a massive railgun with an oversized barrel. If it could be attached, we loaded every external surface with firepower.
Character builds. In this case, it was more accurate to call them Titan builds. In games that offered detailed customization, even the slightest adjustment could decide victory or defeat. A tiny difference in mobility could leave you exposed to attacks, or low offensive power might prevent you from penetrating armor. And now, there were far more parts and finer adjustment options than in the previous game. Just mounting thrusters alone gave you a mountain of things to consider—the position of fuel pipes, whether to expand the fuel tanks, even the direction of the center of gravity.
My Speed Reading trait converted the flood of component data into organized information, while my Spatial Awareness trait repeatedly projected, merged, and detached holograms. It was on a completely different level from the adjustments I used to make with just a joystick and directional keys on a gamepad. The level of detail possible now was dozens of times greater.
Beyond bombardment types, there were countless other possibilities. A heavily armored model with an extremely overclocked generator that could eject coolant forward. A detection-type that ignored combat entirely and maximized radar range. A support-type that minimized size and maximized mobility to quickly compensate for allied damage. And finally, though it was rarely used, the mishmash machine that could handle a little bit of every role by itself. It couldn’t truly be called an all-rounder. A Titan that did everything alone simply couldn’t exist.
“Hey, Deep?”
Got it. In the game, this lecture period was probably meant to be a free Titan-building session. You’d keep tweaking your final build while gathering information and purchasing the equipment needed for it. In the previous game, participating in ranked battles would unlock certain pieces of equipment. I wondered how it worked here.
“Cadet Deep.”
Thud!
I jumped. My head snapped upward. The surroundings had gone completely silent. Professor Sumeragi was staring at me intently from barely a hand’s breadth away. Under normal circumstances, having a beautiful woman this close might have made my heart race. Right now, I felt none of that. An icy sweat instantly drenched my back. I shoved my chair backward and scooted away.
“Y-yes.”
“Have you ever been to war?”
What the hell was this about? Separate from my panic, I shook my head rapidly. My pupils trembled from sheer disbelief.
“You’ve never been to war, yet you’re telling me you pulled out samples for six different units in less than an hour?”
“Y-yeah.”
Only then did my surroundings come back into focus. Most students had, at most, one hologram floating in front of them. The princess sitting next to me hadn’t even touched hers. The cold sweat refused to stop. While I’d been hyper-focused, I had completely forgotten about everyone around me. I should have just glanced around and done things in a way that didn’t draw attention.
Professor Sumeragi grinned.
“Would you like to be my teaching assistant?”
“No, I don’t want to.”
Her expression froze exactly like that.
“Wait, why not?!”
“I-it’s just… too much pressure.”
“Too much pressure?!”
Ran shot up from her seat. I could feel the curious glances from the people around us. When Ian tapped her lunch tray a couple times, Ran sat back down with a reluctant expression.
“Eat your food. Food.”
It was lunchtime. I had originally planned to sit in a corner and eat alone, but Ran had contacted me saying she wanted to eat together. There was no real reason to refuse, and I was also curious about what the other departments were learning. The only thing my stupid brain had overlooked was that listening to stories from other departments meant I’d have to talk about my own.
So it was inevitable that the topic of the teaching assistant offer came up.
“No matter how I think about it, I just don’t get it. A teaching assistant? We commoners are already short on money and don’t have connections. Where else would you get an offer like that?”
“I-I just… don’t want to.”
Teaching assistant. I’d never even stepped foot on a university campus, but I at least knew what the position was. It was a role where graduates or students with excellent grades received a salary in exchange for assisting a professor with their duties.
The money would definitely help. Plus, the professor in question was Sumeragi. If I got close to her while working as her assistant, she might give me major help with Titan customization. It was a position with clear benefits. The problem, however, was obvious.
If I became a teaching assistant after receiving the offer on the very first day of class, there was no way I wouldn’t draw even more attention. Was it a waste? Yes, it was. But the extra spotlight I’d receive was something I hated far more.
“Coward. Loser.”
Ian muttered while looking at me. Since I had no rebuttal, I set my spoon down instead of answering. My appetite had vanished a little. At the same time, the hand that had put the spoon down was suddenly thrust forward.
“Hey, commoner!”
Grab!
A water bottle landed in my hand and I caught it instinctively. The area around us went quiet for a moment. The gazes that had been fixed on me quickly scattered. I was surprised too. Only then did I raise my head to look at the other person. The guy looked momentarily flustered. It had been a throw aimed at my blind spot. Without my Spatial Awareness trait, I wouldn’t have been able to react at all.
Soon enough, the guy regained his smug expression. Seeing several nobles standing with him, it was clear he was from a powerful family. Black hair and green eyes. He was a guy, but he had a handsome face. Not that someone like me was in any position to judge. Actually, I already knew who he was. Not because his face was familiar, but because I needed to know it.
“Commoner. You’ve been standing out quite a bit lately, and it doesn’t suit you. You know that, right?”
Aron Dyke. The princess’s fiancé. Eldest son of Duke Dyke, who was responsible for the Eastern Front. One of the top candidates for valedictorian, having fought on the hellish Eastern Front since he was eighteen.
Wait, but they still haven’t told us who the current valedictorian is? That’s kind of ridiculous, isn’t it? Usually they give you that information before enrollment. The fact that the entrance exam happens right before admission also feels really weird. Even if this is an academy inside a game.
While I was lost in thought, Aron Dyke frowned deeply and stepped closer. Ran flinched and stopped moving her spoon. Ian continued eating with an expressionless face.
“When someone talks to you, at least answer! You’re not mute!”
“I-I, um, I d-didn’t, know, s-sir.”
Aron, who had been approaching, paused for a second.
“Do you have a speech impediment?”
I swear I’ve heard this before. Why is everyone so collectively rude?
“N-no. I’m j-just nervous, th-that’s all.”
“Oh, really?”
Aron looked momentarily relieved, then frowned again and stood right in front of the table.
Thud!
When he slammed the table, the dishes rattled. The spoon slipped from Ian’s hand and clattered onto the table.
“Just what the hell did you do to make Her Highness keep sitting next to a commoner like you!”
I’d like to know that myself. I have no idea.
When I couldn’t come up with a proper answer, Aron frowned even harder. On a side note, even a face that looked wrinkle-free developed creases when it scowled. Wow, fascinating. The mysteries of the human body.
“Answer me!”
“I-I don’t know.”
“Food.”
All three of us looked at Ian at the same time. Ian’s foot was quietly pressing down on the edge of the table, applying force.
“We’re eating, you fuck.”
Crack!
The table slammed straight into Aron’s body. His body floated in the air for a moment before rolling across the floor, then he sprang back up as if bouncing.
“This bastard—”
Aron kicked the table, but was sent flying backward again. Ian was still calmly pressing down on it with his foot. It hadn’t budged an inch. Both pilots and engineers trained like crazy. He might not look it while sitting, but Ian was incredibly tall. Their weight classes were completely different.
“I-Ian!”
Ran hurriedly slapped Ian’s foot down. The nobles quickly grabbed Aron and helped him up. After catching his breath, Aron ground his teeth.
“And who the hell are you!”
Ian pointed at me with his chin.
“This loser’s engineer.”
Me?
Aron ground his teeth and pointed at me.
“You! You son of a bitch! Fine! Let’s settle this in the simulation duel lecture this Friday!”
Why is he asking me for a duel after getting hit by Ian? When I looked at Ian in disbelief, he answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Do it.”
Who the hell are you to tell me to do it? Why does everything always end up on me? God damn it.