Directly across from the dining hall stood the Naval Academy. Shipgirls who reached a certain level could attend classes there and receive specialized tactical instruction from three elite instructors—each of their techniques akin to ultimate skills.
Their dormitories—the warm, comforting homes they lived in—were arranged opposite the Commander's Office.
Then came other facilities: storage depots, treasure vaults, lighthouses, ports, bathhouses, and more.
Lexington covered her mouth, eyes brimming with tiny tears.
Hikaru withdrew his power and smiled. "Let's go take a look. It's just a pity… if only we could've brought the others with us too."
——
Meanwhile, in the northern heart of China, a high-level classified inquiry session was underway.
The one being questioned: Fleet Admiral Gorou.
Seated in a grand armchair, the Iron Lion slammed the armrest in frustration.
"It's just one Kuramoto Hikaru. If he left, let him go. Frankly, I'm glad he did. If he hadn't, we would've had to ask him to. A man of unknown origin and unclear intentions—who dares entrust him with anything important? And yet he accomplished such a great feat. Now he's become a hot potato. Keeping him around would've only been a problem. Him leaving now? I say throw him a farewell party, bang the drums, sing his praises, give him a medal or two—and be done with it!"
Though it was supposed to be a hearing to question Gorou, it felt more like he was lecturing the assembled council members and marshals.
He was a hardened veteran of nearly two hundred years in the military. In front of him, no one dared raise their voice.
But a mistake is still a mistake.
After a brutal defensive campaign—albeit a hard-won victory—the emergence of Tirpitz, a warrior of unmatched might, had reignited national pride. The propaganda machine had cranked into full gear, and the whole country was celebrating her as a divine savior.
And just when victory celebrations across the nation hadn't even ended… Gorou drove out the war's greatest hero, Hikaru, and his shipgirls.
One cautious council member ventured, "Fleet Admiral, I still believe this was highly inappropriate. How are we supposed to explain this to the people? Won't this chill the hearts of those who supported the war?"
Gorou bristled, eyes bulging beneath his bushy brows. "Explain? There's no need to explain anything. Kuramoto Hikaru hasn't yet cleared his name. When the case of Commander Noboru is finally settled, then you can talk strategy. I'm already making the biggest concession by not issuing a naval-wide wanted order!"
Commander Noboru and two other commanders had vanished without a trace in what appeared to be a locked-room murder case. The prime suspect? Kuramoto Hikaru and his shipgirls, who had since fled in fear of punishment.
The problem was twofold. First, shifting the public narrative would be nearly impossible—Tirpitz had just been paraded as the shining light of all shipgirls, the savior of the nation. Calling her a criminal now would be unthinkable.
Second, even if a warrant were issued, it wouldn't change anything. Hikaru had slipped away under the noses of thousands of commanders and tens of thousands of shipgirls stationed at the forward command. He was now like a fish returned to the sea—untouchable.
So, weighing both sides, Gorou had chosen not to issue a warrant for now.
The council members exchanged glances, their faces etched with worry.
To them, it was obvious: Gorou had driven Hikaru away out of jealousy and spite. A hero driven out… accused of murder under the eyes of elite supernatural warriors? Even ghosts wouldn't buy that story.
But no one dared cross Gorou.
He snorted. "If there are no other questions, I'm leaving. An entire fleet awaits my command."
In truth, he was just going through the motions. No one here had the power to question his authority. The inquiry hosts exchanged quiet words, then rose to formally salute him.
"Respectfully see off the Fleet Admiral!"
Gorou didn't even glance at them. He stood, shoved his chair aside, and made for the exit.
Just then, the doors were flung open—and Wakayama Shogo strode in, face solemn.
The council members erupted in outrage. This was a top-secret session. Even eavesdropping outside the door would be considered treason—breaking in was unthinkable.
Had the captains grown this brazen?
"Wakayama! Have you no respect for protocol? Do you know where you are? If you can't give a damn good reason, I'll whip you myself!"
Despite the harsh tone, he was actually trying to shield Shogo—offering him a way to save face.
But Shogo didn't seem to notice. He wore a grim expression. "I'm here to deliver critical military intelligence from the Eastern Theater."
He glanced around at the council members. "Top secret. Anyone without proper clearance—councilmen or not—must leave."
[End of Chapter]
[50 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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