“Hey, hey! It’s your Captain. Today’s broadcast is: [I Tried Fighting Mysterious Space Creatures]!”
Whoo-hoo.
I was going to be dead in a few minutes, though.
Alright, let’s kick off the worst livestream in history!
First up: the Strawberry Talk.
“I know you all probably hate my guts. I used the influence of House Kamishiro to coast on decent grades and snag the spot of valedictorian. And thanks to that, look at me now—I’m the Acting Captain! I bet plenty of you scholarship students wanted to see me dead. Well, joke’s on you! Because I’m the valedictorian, I’m the one who gets to stay behind and die! Whoo-hoo!”
A screeching groan of twisting metal echoed as the ship’s outer hull was breached.
The invaders would be inside any second.
I had a plan for this. Well, three plans, actually—A through C. Pretty impressive, right?
“Hey, hey. Climbing into the heavy machinery now!”
Plan A: Fight the Zork.
Honestly, I felt like I was about to piss myself, but if I passed this up, I really would end up as nothing more than a "mob" character. Besides, I genuinely wanted to let everyone else escape. That wish came from the very bottom of my heart.
What I had prepared was a unit of Humanoid Heavy Machinery intended for extravehicular work training. It stood less than four meters tall—a piloted robot for non-combat use, its cockpit encased in bulletproof crystal. These units were deployed on battleships for hull repairs and mine disposal training.
It seemed to be a relatively new model, as it was battery-powered. If it had been a model from fifty years ago, it would have been tethered by a power cable. If that were the case, I’d have been finished before I started.
Despite the existence of high-performance drones, human hands were still required for certain tasks as a safeguard against hacking or electronic equipment failure caused by EMPs (Electromagnetic Pulses). Larger machines were inherently more robust, and when it came to operating heavy equipment, humans were simply cheaper than advanced AI.
A cold, hard truth of the world.
I used biometric authentication to pop the hatch and climbed into the control space. As I stood in the cramped, nearly exposed cockpit, the safety harness automatically snapped into place around me. The hatch hissed shut, and camera feeds flickered to life, overlaying the various instrument readings across my field of vision.
Fortunately, I hadn't forgotten how to use this. My "setting" in this world was that I excelled at simulations.
All sensors: Normal.
A high-pitched hum of machinery vibrated through the cockpit.
Preliminary startup: Success.
Since it wasn’t a combat model, it wasn't equipped with a roller-dash function. A shame. I’d always wanted to try one of those.
My weapon was a Shock Hammer for extravehicular work. It used a mysterious gunpowder-driven system that functioned even in the vacuum of space. Designed for hull repairs and construction, it was the type of tool that used internal explosions to amplify its striking power.
I also had a plasma gun... or rather, a Spot Welder disguised as one. Well, they were effectively the same thing.
I checked the ship’s inventory. Escape pods: All units launched.
Don’t count me in that number.
Drone deployment: Complete.
Good, good.
One thing bothered me, though—the viewer count on my stream. ...Wait, that couldn't be right. It was showing billions of viewers.
Must be a bug. I decided to ignore it.
“Guhahaha! Too bad you didn't get to kill me yourselves, everyone! But since we’re at the finish line, I figured I’d get a few things off my chest. I’m leaving all my shame behind! You can use these stories to spice up the talk at my funeral. I know I always acted like a moody, arrogant prick in front of you, but honestly, I never liked that somber attitude. The thing is, my family would’ve chewed me out if I’d shown my true self. By the way, isn't Megumi Okita from Class B a total babe? People called her a 'chicken-bone girl,' but aren't those visible ribs of hers actually super hot?”
I could feel Leo’s memories and my own beginning to bleed together. Little by little, we were integrating into a single existence.
Leo was the kind of person who had been forced to be a villain by his parents. If you're raised from birth to believe the authority of a Marquis House is everything, your personality is going to get warped.
Furthermore, the kid was a massive closet pervert.
While he went around acting haughty and saying things like, “I am nothing like you commoners!” he was actually a "closet monster" with incredibly niche tastes. He looked at every girl in class with lecherous eyes—specifically, not the idol-tier beauties, but the plain girls or the ones mocked for being unattractive.
Leo, buddy, I feel like we could’ve grabbed a great drink together!
However, I couldn't quite share his specific delusion of being a thirty-something single man whose girlfriend gets stolen by his boss. Or the "friend’s mother" series.
But my friend... I shall respect your preferences nonetheless.
“Actually, I don’t even have any friends! Gyahaha!”
Oops, I said that out loud.
The moment that slip of the tongue escaped my lips, the ship’s hull was torn open. A Zork emerged from the breach with predatory grace.
[Oxygen concentration dropping. Deploying bulkheads.]
As the ship’s atmosphere began to hiss out into the void, the emergency bulkheads dropped alongside the warning. But a mere bulkhead wasn't enough to stop a Zork.
With a series of heavy thuds, the metal bulkheads began to buckle. The Zork was already right there, closing in on the bridge.
In a fit of desperate bravado, I screamed at the camera.
“Nina from my class! You’re always saying, ‘I’m not popular because I’m fat,’ but let me tell you—most of the guys in class look at you and think you’re sexy as hell! Including me, obviously! Everyone loves you just the way you are!”
Long live the extra curves!
The moment I finished shouting, the bulkhead was torn asunder. Air rushed out violently. Then, a massive, crab-like form loomed through the debris.
“Kishaaaaaaaaa!”
Where the hell are you even making that noise from? There’s no air!
God, it was terrifying. In person, it was absolutely horrifying.
I let out a roar of my own to drown out the fear.
“Uooooooooh!”
I had done close-quarters combat in virtual reality countless times. The crab in front of me was a Close-combat Zork Type D. In other words: a grunt. Small fry.
If I had a Marine Corps Combat Suit with muscle assist, I could’ve taken this thing out while humming a tune. But those hadn't been developed yet! Instead, I had to make do with this explosion-assisted hammer!
I pulled the hammer back, ready to swing.
“Kishaaaaaaaaa!”
The crab’s pincer lashed down toward me. Its movements were identical to the game. I swung the hammer down to meet the incoming claw.
The impact, magnified several times over by the Impact Assist Function, slammed into the Zork's pincer. There was a heavy boom, and the pincer was sheared clean off at the joint.
My eyes stung from the flashes. I wasn't wearing my work goggles because I wanted a wider field of vision for combat, but the glare was blindingly bright.
I followed up immediately, driving the hammer straight into its torso.
“Take this!”
Boom!
The shock boost from the internal explosion made my hands go numb, and the roar left my ears ringing. The recoilless gunpowder emitted a cloud of black smoke. Sparks scorched my face, leaving stinging little burns.
For a split second, I regretted ever trying this, but then the shell of the Zork's torso shattered. I immediately drew the welder and thrust it into the cracked armor.
“Die!”
I pulled the trigger again and again. The stench of scorched flesh filled the air. Its muscle tissue shredded, the Zork collapsed.
Dammit, my eyes hurt.
“Huff, huff... Uooooh! Hell yeah! I did it! I won! Did you see that?!”
I’d won a fight for the first time in my life!
I took the Beam Pistol I’d brought along and shot at an intact part of its shell. As I expected, the beam just bounced right off. That was why I’d been using the Spot Welder; its output was far higher.
“Beam weapons are useless. You’ve got to use physical rounds or punch through the armor in close quarters. For the next model, I’m requesting the deployment of physical ammo. Well, not that I’ll be around to see it.”
According to the game lore, humanity suffered defeat after defeat in the early days of the Zork war. Their standard-issue weaponry was completely ineffective. As a result, several planets were lost, and numerous noble houses were wiped out.
The desperate strategy born from that hellish situation was the "Hammer Suicide Attack." Looking back, I’m sure it was just a mechanic the developers forced in because they wanted to make a melee-focused game.
I'll never forgive you, you shitty devs!
History was probably going to change now... but I didn't care. I was going to die here anyway.
I checked the security drones on my helmet’s display. Their numbers were already down by half. They really were useless, especially since they were only armed with beam weapons.
Alright, time for Plan B.
“Drones, switch to Self-destruct Mode! Detonate on sight of any hostile lifeforms!” I yelled over the ringing in my ears.
[Transitioning to Self-destruct Mode.]
Explosions began to echo throughout the ship. I wondered how much good it would actually do against creatures that could literally swim through the vacuum of space. These weren't specialized armor-piercing charges, after all.
Still, we were in the prologue of the prologue. These weren't the evolved Zork types with physical resistance yet. The tactic was still viable—if only to buy some time.
As long as I could get my classmates to safety, I’d count it as a win.
Alright, let’s keep going!
God, my ears were shot. The ringing wouldn't stop. And that was just the damage from taking down a single one of them.
“Let’s keep this conversation going! Elena Sato from Class C! You’re always calling yourself ugly, but you’ve got the kind of face that would look incredible with the right makeup! Have some confidence!”
I freaking love freckles and sanpaku eyes!
I spotted another Zork approaching through the hallway. It was struggling to squeeze through the narrow passage.
Suckers!
Don’t underestimate a student training ship—especially a public school one! Even with the heir of a Marquis House on board, a budget ship is a budget ship. This thing was a narrow, cramped, outdated model!
I fired the welder at a nearby fire extinguisher. White powder sprayed everywhere, clouding the air. The swarm of Zork paused, momentarily disoriented.
I ducked into the internal dock and slammed the bulkhead shut.
The ending was fast approaching.
Time to set off the final fireworks of my life!