Give me a break... don't go introducing brand-new characters from outside the game’s lore for mere mob characters.
Maybe it was because I had completely derailed the original destiny of this world. Between the early deployment of the battleship-type Zork and now these new characters, I had a sinking feeling that the situation was deteriorating fast.
For better or worse, the world was seriously trying to kill me.
...Wait, I get it now! The moment they turned Kevin into a hitman, they were already playing for keeps, weren't they!? Even in the original game, there was never an event where a spy tried to assassinate the protagonist, Edge.
Well, back then, public order usually collapsed so quickly the world became infested with pirates, so I guess there might have been a hitman or two mixed in there somewhere.
I have to seize victory here so my future wife can go pirate hunting in peace.
The new anti-Jester model—the Fake Jester—charged straight for me. I didn't bother trying to meet it head-on, instead sidestepping the initial rush.
"Fairy-san! Can you hack it?"
"No can do! That thing is completely biological!"
I mean, seriously, couldn't you have programmed in a weak point or something? Have a little consideration! This is exactly why people hate you!!!
The creature swung its chainsaw like a raging bull as it charged again.
"I can't get a lock-on! It's perfectly tracing Leo's movements!" Claire shouted, her voice laced with frustration.
"Wait, what? Do I really move like a killer from a slasher flick?"
"It's even worse than that!"
Even worse? Ouch.
"Leo, you're so fast that the system can't even lock onto you, and you dodge every shot fired! From the enemy's perspective, you're pure terror!"
"Really...?"
"The enemy is trying to mimic you, but it’s a poor imitation! Leo’s movements are always right on the absolute edge of the machine’s limits!"
She was really laying it on thick.
"If I ran into Leo on the battlefield, I’d just turn and bolt!"
"...That much!?"
As a marksman, Claire had moved past the realm of genius and stepped firmly into the realm of the abnormal. To be told that by someone like her... was I really that weird?
"Leo, you constantly use movements that make you vanish from sight! Or rather, it’s impossible to tell where the next attack is coming from! It was the same in the VR game, wasn't it?"
Was it? I couldn't really remember.
I watched the Fake Jester lunge again. I dropped into a slide, hooking its leg to take it down. I was about to pin it to the floor and start hammering away when a sudden, spine-tingling premonition washed over me.
I threw my machine into a roll, retreating instantly.
A split second later, long needles erupted from every inch of the Fake Jester’s body. If I had stayed in close, I would have been turned into a pincushion.
"It’s a complete counter-measure against me!!!"
I hate this! An enemy with learning capabilities! It wasn't giving me a "service-play" experience at all!
However, in the end, it was still just a Zork-chan.
"I've won!" I declared.
I had won. It was a total victory. I was certain of it.
"Claire! Smoke grenade!"
"Eh? Right!"
A smoke grenade—a standard blinding tool for riot control. We had tear gas too, but I opted for the smoke. To be precise, I’d had a few of these since the beginning, and I’d kept them tucked away just in case they might be useful. Naturally, I’d swapped the old ones out for fresh stock. I wasn't about to trust my life to something manufactured five hundred years ago.
"Firing smoke!"
The area ahead vanished behind a thick grey shroud. But I wasn't the one who was going to act. This was a job for the boys.
Even in the thick of the smoke, we could track the target's location via radar. The opponent surely had sensory organs other than sight, but they couldn't possibly be as precise as our tech.
Victory through technology, baby!
"The pervert’s opened a path for us!"
Was that a compliment or an insult?
The boys showered the target with bullets, utilizing the marksmanship they had honed fighting the Crab-chans. I couldn't see the target, but I could hear the rhythmic thwack-thwack of rounds connecting.
"Idiot Boys! Foaming resin grenades!"
"Roger that, you mega-pervert!"
I was seriously starting to consider punching them.
Foaming resin grenades were another riot control weapon. As the name suggested, they contained a resin that would foam up and harden instantly upon contact with the air. You were supposed to throw them at rioters or rogue humanoid heavy machinery. The resin would expand and set, pinning the target in place.
It was easy enough to break out of eventually, but in the heat of combat, it bought more than enough time to create a fatal opening. In a one-on-one fight, crowd-control attacks are always top-tier. Occasionally, a rioter would suffocate to death from it, but the Empire was famously lax regarding human rights.
The official stance was usually: "If you didn't want to get resin in your lungs, you shouldn't have started a riot!"
The reason I’d brought these was simple: I’d intended to use them if we ever got swamped by a horde of Crab-chans.
The smoke dissipated, and visibility returned to the chamber.
"We did it, pervert!"
The Fake Jester was encased in hardened foam, unable to move.
"Concentrate fire! Also, whoever called me a pervert—see me in the martial arts hall after this!"
At my command, everyone opened up at once. I made a mental note to hunt down the guy who started the "pervert" trend and give him a piece of my mind.
"Leo, you’re really popular with the boys, aren't you?" Claire said, sounding like an older sister watching rowdy younger brothers.
"You call that being popular!?"
"Yeah. I think they see you as a friend, regardless of your social status. You’re like the kid who catches a giant beetle and brings it to the Imperial Junior Academy to show everyone."
"That sounds like a hero's backstory. But I am a villainous noble!"
I was a corrupt lord who oppressed the masses! ...Though, admittedly, the tax revenue was currently being diverted into reconstruction efforts.
"Hmm, I don’t think anyone actually sees you that way. You care the least about status out of anyone at the Academy, Leo."
"Wait, really...?"
Now that she mentioned it, it was true. I had never given a damn about social standing. Why would I? I knew that in most of the game's routes, the Empire ended up destroyed anyway. Status was meaningless in the face of total annihilation.
"Hey! Pervert! Stop flirting!"
"Shut up! Just finish it off already!"
"We’re showering it with lead, but it won't die!"
Now, what to do? If I got close, I’d be skewered by those needles. But the guns weren't dealing a decisive blow. Good grief, it really was the "best" of both worlds—the durability of a Crab-chan combined with the lethality of a parasite.
"Lord Groom! Follow my lead!"
Major Piggett charged in, leading with his shield. He wasn't alone; the Imperial Guard veterans moved with him, using their heavy shields to pin the Fake Jester down.
I raised my chainsaw high.
"Uoooooooooh!"
Or at least, I tried to. In that exact moment, someone used my machine’s head as a literal stepping stone.
"You used me as a launchpad!?"
Melissa, having vaulted off my head, went flying toward the Fake Jester. It was the birth of the shabbiest-looking "Jet Stream Attack" in the history of the galaxy.
I stumbled forward with a pathetic "Bube-rah!" Just as my machine’s face was about to kiss the floor, Melissa’s blade sliced clean through the Fake Jester’s neck.
"Hell yeah! Operation success!" Melissa exhaled sharply, looking incredibly proud of herself.
"Pray tell, why hath Melissa used this noble lord as a mere stepping stone?" I asked, my brain having regressed into the speech patterns of a stereotypical archaic noble from another dimension.
Melissa answered with a grin.
"Just before the needles came out, that thing was laughing. It was totally planning to skewer the captain the moment you got close. So, I figured I’d just attack from outside its line of sight. And look! I took the head, so it couldn't do a thing."
I looked over at the Fake Jester. It was twitching reflexively, but the needles remained retracted.
"I see... Good job, Melissa!"
"Way to go!"
Meanwhile, Claire was dangerously silent. She seemed to have lost her temper entirely. I made a mental note to buy her something sweet later as a peace offering.