Lexington's words opened up a new line of thought for Hikaru.
But the mystery wasn't solved. The locked-room puzzle still loomed, and even if the three Wolf-class nuclear submarines played a key role in the entire incident, there was no way Hikaru could just go back now and say, "Let's re-investigate."
After all, Wolf-class nuclear subs were strategic-level weapons. Unless it was a matter of national survival, everything about them was classified military intelligence.
Which meant that Hikaru also couldn't get any intel by other means—like interrogating a few officers.
"Even if there were clues, they've probably already been wiped clean," Tirpitz said as she leapt down from the treetop. "Stop thinking about such annoying things. The sky's high, the world's big—darling, let's go have fun!"
"Tirpitz! Show some respect to the Commander! And you were slacking off again! Can't you act like a proper shipgirl?!"
Bismarck grabbed Tirpitz furiously and smacked her several times on the back. Tirpitz didn't dare resist her sister and looked to Hikaru with big, pitiful eyes, hoping he'd save her.
Hikaru whistled and rolled over on his soft cloud-bed, pretending not to see the punishment happening off to the side. Out of sight, out of mind.
His favoritism for Tirpitz carried over from the game to reality. Just earlier, she had skipped the cleanup by hiding in the treetops. No one had made a fuss about it, but now that her sister was disciplining her, if Hikaru tried to intervene and protect her, the favoritism would be way too blatant.
The base was a big family. When the roster was small, it was easier to manage, but now that more girls were joining, keeping things fair—or at least appearing to be fair—was essential for harmony.
"Ah1~ Ah2~ Ah3~ Ah4~"
Tirpitz let out a rising and falling chorus of yelps, each more dramatic than the last—enough to break hearts and bring tears to the eyes. But Hikaru remained cold and unmoved.
The more animated her cries, the louder Bismarck's slaps got.
Tirpitz, don't blame me for not loving you enough. It's not that I don't love you—your sister loves you.
Thinking that way nearly brought Hikaru to tears from being moved by their sisterly bond.
I'm such a kind person!
With Tirpitz's melodious screams as background music, Hikaru's eyelids grew heavy. His already-depleted spirit couldn't hold on any longer, and he drifted off into a deep, sweet slumber.
As the sun set, twilight swept across the wasteland. Heaven and hell clashed in the skies above—gods and demons locked in chaotic war.
Humanity, like swarms of ants, was driven by them. Millions—tens of millions—of ragged, mutated humans surged forward, their twisted bodies sprouting bizarre and monstrous organs.
Charging.
Charging at others who were also human.
Claws bared, fangs flashing, they tore at one another like wild beasts.
On a distant mountaintop, a small squad stood silently, watching it all unfold from afar.
Their bodies remained untainted—one of the few groups of humans who hadn't been mutated by demonic corruption.
A red-haired girl brushed her hair back and looked over her shoulder at their leader.
"Hikaru-nii… is this still humanity's world?"
The man called Hikaru-nii stood out from his solemn, grim-faced comrades. He rested a longsword across his shoulders, a sprig of sweetgrass between his lips, and smiled lazily.
"As long as we're still alive, gods and demons are just invaders."
Someone in the back muttered something under their breath—scattered by the shrieking wind—but it sounded like "mutants aren't really human."
The red-haired girl stared off blankly for a while, then asked, "Then, Hikaru-nii… what if we die?"
Hikaru spat out the grass stalk and gripped his sword.
"If I die—my nation lives on."
"When this battle's over, Hikaru-nii… I'll buy you a drink."
Behind them, the mutated beasts let out a collective howl.
Hikaru waved his hand, his expression stone-cold.
"We'll see. For now—begin the operation. Everyone, move out!"
Streams of light shot off into the mountain ranges.
The peaks roared in anger, stabbing the heavens and bleeding light.
"Commander, why are you trembling?"
Hikaru jolted awake in a woman's arms.
He sat up—
Thump.
His forehead smacked into something soft. Failed attempt #1.
Still half-asleep, Hikaru groggily tried again.
Thump.
Failed again.
"Hmph, I don't believe this…" Determined now, Hikaru clenched his jaw, planted both hands behind him on the cloud-bed, and pushed up with all his might—I rise!
"Ah~"
A soft, delicate gasp rang out.
Yat Sen sat on the cloud-bed, holding her chest, face flushed crimson like she could bleed from embarrassment. She kept her head down, unable to look anyone in the eye.
Hikaru's third attempt to get up had failed. He now lay flopped like a dead fish across Yat Sen's watery green silk dress.
His face was completely blank.
Panic.
How does one recover from an accidental headbutt-to-chest incident…?
[End of Chapter]
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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