When Aaron learned that Deep’s opponent was Rod, he thought Deep would have no choice but to give Rod an effective hit.
No, before that, he thought Deep wouldn’t be able to win.
It was only common sense.
To refuse to allow even a single effective hit against a bombardment-type Titan was impossible.
A bombardment-type Titan built in earnest by a baronial house carried an unimaginable number of missiles and bullets.
There was a reason most bombardment-type Titans drove anchors into the ground and remained fixed in place.
They carried far more ammunition than what was visible from the outside, and in order to withstand the recoil of firing, they had naturally sacrificed mobility first.
“That lowborn probably doesn’t even know what he’s just done.”
It was absurd.
A paradigm taken for granted on every battlefield had just been shattered by a single lowborn.
Artillery types were fixed batteries.
If they failed to stop the enemy’s approach, artillery types had no choice but to retreat from the front.
That obvious common sense had been simply denied by one lowborn.
Deep had no idea how many eyes were on him.
It wasn’t only the cadets who were watching Deep.
Nobles who, while responsible for the front lines, sought to discover valuable forces within the Academy through their cadet children.
Professors who sought subordinates under them so they could return to the front at any time and bask in their former glory.
Future heirs who hoped to obtain soldiers who would become powerful assets and enjoy even greater wealth and honor.
Countless people within the Academy had their eyes on Deep.
All of them knew.
For now, Deep was the only one capable of handling the bombardment–high-mobility type like that, and in the future, Deep would show them something new as well.
However, none of that mattered to Aaron.
“Oh, you picked up? Yeah. No, it’s not urgent. No, actually, just move right now.”
He was merely a cadet, and a soldier, whose blood was boiling.
“There’s something I want to buy. It’s a fragment. Yeah, you can think of it as a part.”
One who would, if necessary, learn by watching a lowborn.
“Buy Fafnir’s Wing and research whether Icarus can fly.”
And one who would spend any amount in order to grow stronger.
“What, fuck. How much? That insane lowborn bastard.”
***
“If I had lips, I would’ve given Deep a kiss.”
“Ailey, please, watch what you say.”
“Why, why, why? Are you embarrassed?”
When I covered the smartwatch with my hand, Ailey buzzed the speaker as if dissatisfied.
Ever since last time, it had become a bit annoying how she kept tickling my wrist whenever she had a complaint.
It wasn’t as if I could just remove the speaker either.
As I leaned against the railing and looked outside, Heavy Machine entered the hangar behind a towing drone.
I was the one who did it, but it wasn’t a pretty sight.
Its right shoulder had been pierced through and damaged, and its left arm had been blown clean off.
As for the sensor, the pile bunker had punched a hole through it, and with the joint wrecked, it dangled loosely.
If it hadn’t been for the machine gun on its chest, I wouldn’t have smashed even the sensor.
After the towing drone fixed Heavy Machine to the hangar anchor, it opened the hatch.
Rod came out, wiping away sweat, and approached me.
“I knew you were something else.”
Rod shook his head in disbelief.
“But I never thought I wouldn’t be able to land even a single effective hit.”
He couldn’t land an effective hit, huh.
“I, I did get h-hit by bullets, though.”
If the standard was a little loose, then maybe, but by my standards, I had taken effective hits.
Evading and intercepting the missiles was easy, but avoiding even the machine gun bullets was impossible.
I had merely taken most of the bullets with the heavily armored core and shoulder armor.
In fact, there were quite a few marks left on the breastplate and shoulder armor where bullets had struck or grazed past.
However, I did not allow a single bullet to reach the generator.
The bullets used for tests and sparring at the Academy were basically made of materials with extremely low reactivity to generators.
Even if a generator were hit, it wouldn’t explode, but on the other hand, if even one shot had struck it, that level of maneuvering would have been impossible.
Rod looked at Ailey with an expression of disbelief, then sighed and nodded.
“Yeah, well. A genius like you and someone like me trying to coast through my specialization with a bombardment type can’t have the same standards.”
No, I hadn’t been trying to pick a fight or anything.
“Th-that’s not what I was t-trying to say….”
“I know.”
For someone who knew, he definitely sounded like he was speaking through gritted teeth.
Rod raised his hand.
When I flinched reflexively, Rod looked puzzled, then lowered his hand as it was and patted my shoulder.
“I heard you’re going to the Western Front?”
“Ah, y-yes.”
Of course he would know.
Only three cadets had additionally applied for the Western Front. It was only natural that we stood out.
“Volunteering for the Western Front, huh. You’re going to have it rough. Most of the fighting on the Western Front is done with drones.”
He was right.
The Western Front was a battlefield where neither heavy-armored types, high-mobility types, nor bombardment types fought as the main force, but support types did.
That was why the Empire was at a disadvantage.
The Allied Forces’ drone technology was relatively ahead of the Empire’s.
“Well, if you can operate a bombardment type at your level, you might be able to shoot down the drones yourself.”
“Th-thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I’m screwed. My ranking’s going to drop, damn it.”
Cadets in the upper ranks received benefits when using the Academy’s market, bank, and the like.
They didn’t provide benefits as great as those given to the top student, but they were still at a level that was hard to ignore.
Naturally, the higher one’s ranking, the better those benefits became.
“Tsk. There was a custom job I wanted to do, but I guess I can’t help it. I’ll just have to smash it with credits.”
“A c-custom job you want to do?”
“I lost. It’s only natural that I might want some customization.”
That was true.
Rod exhaled sharply, as if exhausted.
“I am curious about your ranking, though. Just how high are you going to climb?”
“W-well. I’ll still probably be in the fifties, won’t I?”
“Are you joking?”
I was being serious.
Rod stared intently at my face, then frowned slightly.
“You were serious? Are you bad at arithmetic? I’m pretty sure you stole my ranking spot.”
No way.
There was no way I could go from the fifties to the twenties.
“I d-don’t think that’ll happen.”
“Want to bet?”
“A b-bet?”
“If you place 22nd or better, you pay for my custom job.”
“N-no.”
Rod’s slightly furrowed expression immediately crumpled.
No, still. Did he think I was crazy enough to make a bet like that?
“I, I spent all my money this time.”
“You just don’t have confidence.”
“A-and I need to earn more money. If I’m going to the W-Western Front, I need to do some customization too.”
“Ah, that’s true.”
The Western Front was a coastal front.
Following the frigid Northern Front, the jungle Southern Front, and the wasteland Eastern Front, it was an entirely different kind of front line.
At sea, the greatest threat to a Titan was not the Allied Forces, bullets, or drones.
“You’ll need to treat it for salt corrosion and waterproofing.”
“R-right.”
Seawater.
For Ailey, who had three generators, it was a fatal problem.
The more generators she had, the more cooling units she had compared to others, and the more cooling fans she had, the greater the burden of corrosion became.
There were only two ways to solve it.
Either Ian twisted himself inside out to forcibly solve the corrosion problem.
Or I solved it with money.
The problem was that Ian would probably violently hate the former, and for the latter, I had already blown through my money this time buying missiles, bullets, and even a railgun.
Trill.
“Ailey.”
“It’s cute! I can’t even do this?”
“Of course you can’t.”
When I raised my wrist, Ailey projected a hologram above the smartwatch.
Rod’s eyes widened.
“Did that artificial intelligence just….”
“I m-modified her.”
“Artificial intelligence can’t be modified….”
“S-senior Karina helped me.”
For now, that was what we had decided to say.
Rod looked puzzled for a moment, then nodded anyway.
“That shouldn’t be possible, but is it? I don’t know.”
As expected, the Luna family name was impressive.
“Whoa, shit.”
Cancel that.
No, not cancel, exactly, but my mind suddenly snapped awake.
Was this what it meant that the Luna family was still only a count’s house?
A ducal house spent on a different scale.
“Why, what is it?”
“It s-sold.”
“What did?”
Fafnir’s Wing.
There was a trick quite a few cadets used on the sly.
Taking advantage of the fact that it was cheaper to list an item on the market than to rent a personal storage room, they would put items that didn’t fit in storage up on the market at an extremely high price.
The period for which one could use the market warehouse was very short, but because it was cost-effective, many people used it.
Of course, since they were items they had no intention of selling, they listed them at absurd prices.
“Aaron Dike.”
“Aaron got sold?”
“N-no. Aaron b-bought it.”
How much was that thing, and he bought it? That crazy noble bastard.
“No, no. Th-this isn’t the time.”
“No, so what did you sell?”
“F-Fafnir’s Wing!”
I had to hurry and send Ian the details for the next custom job.
Had Ian’s exam ended? When was the written exam again? I hope it ends soon.
Blow it all.
This time, let’s blow it all on customization too!
Holding up my smartwatch, I quickly ran out of the hangar.
Left alone, Rod stared blankly at the door, pinched the bridge of his nose, then wiped his hand down his face.
“Wh-why the hell would he sell that?”
It was incomprehensible.