Yankees are incredibly sensitive to the pecking order—specifically, whether they’re the ones looking down on others or being looked down upon themselves.
In fact, it’s basically their only metric for measuring anything.
In our world, we judge our standing by a vast array of scales: military rank, peerage, or the career we’ve built for ourselves. It could be the respect commanded by a dojo master or even a veteran tavern owner.
For soldiers, even a commissioned officer knows better than to cross a veteran non-commissioned officer. That’s another scale entirely. Even if they’re lower in rank, they might be far more capable at the job than you are.
Despite being a Field-grade Officer, I deeply respect veteran non-commissioned officers like Huma-san; I always address him with a respectful "-san."
Idiots can't grasp that concept.
Those who fail to understand their own standing are nothing more than targets for ridicule in the real world. Still, it’s a classic military trope for some private to tell a superior, "I only salute people I respect, man," right before getting pummeled for his insolence.
If you can't offer a basic greeting, you aren't a comrade.
It doesn't matter if you're a university graduate or a noble. You beat that lesson into them. You break their spirit until they fall in line. You simply can't entrust your life to someone who isn't a comrade.
If you talk back like a spoiled brat on a dangerous job site, you’re asking to get killed. It’s common sense.
Idiots who juggle grenades, pull the safety pins on fire extinguishers for a laugh, or walk around with their fingers on the trigger get an immediate taste of physical discipline.
You’re going to get your comrades killed, you absolute morons!!!
The people who couldn't understand that basic reality are the pirates—the ones who couldn't even hack it in the national army. They aren't "lone wolves." They were just kicked out. They aren't even worth the effort of being executed with a bullet to the back on the battlefield. That’s a courtesy reserved for weeding out overambitious non-commissioned officers.
That said, I’m convinced Huma-san turning to piracy was entirely the Empire's fault. As the head of state, Maro had a duty to prevent organizational corruption, but he was a total slacker. I’m just glad Wifey became the Emperor.
Anyway, back to the Yankees.
The pirates likely aren't just a pack of thugs; they probably have high-level infiltration agents mixed in. That's what I would do, at least. My goal was to drive a wedge between those agents and the idiots they were leading.
So, here was the plan.
"Who is the Strongest Man!!! One-day Match! Seekers of Challenges!!!"
I blasted the announcement across the Battle Dome's free channels. I also made sure to include a little dig: "Pirates are weak. They’re running away."
Since we had access to the Proone communication lines, the broadcast reached both the pirates and the Ghouls. Using the Former Great King as bait, I set up registration booths for the Brawling Division, the Weaponry Division, and the Humanoid Fighter Division, then waited.
Predictably, applications from the pirates started flooding in—starting with the dumbest ones first.
Hahaha! Fools!!! That’s exactly why you lot are weak!!!
The Ghouls seemed to be taking a wait-and-see approach. Were they smart, or just uninterested? It was hard to say.
"Alright, here are the brackets~"
We held a meeting in the dining hall to go over the roster.
"First up, Katori-sensei. You have permission to kill."
"What kind of person do you think I am!?"
A monster... probably? I was going to have Katori-sensei dismantle them in a one-against-many scenario in the Weaponry Division. Poor little pirates... what a tragedy.
"Second match will be Uncle Piggett in a Humanoid Fighter. Next, I’ll go in with my bare hands..."
"The Captain is not participating," Melissa interrupted.
"Why not!?"
"We want to keep the Captain's inhuman strength hidden for strategic reasons. Right? Everyone agrees, don't they?"
Everyone nodded in unison. What was with this sudden exclusion?
"Isono, can I count on you? It's the Brawling Division, so bare hands only."
When Melissa asked him, Isono froze, his mouth hanging open in shock.
"M-Melissa... who wouldn't even speak to me until now... is asking me for a favor... Y-Yeah! You got it!!"
Honestly, I think the only reason she hadn't forgiven him yet was his own bad attitude, but Melissa had clearly moved past it. It was often said that all my wives were destined to be beauties. But that’s not quite it. I’m just really good at finding unpolished gems!
When I told Wifey that, she just gave me a look. "Is it not simply that you prefer realistic women over the idol or actress types?"
She hit the nail on the head. But Wifey herself was a total beauty. When I told her that, she blushed and gave me a playful smack. Our marriage was as healthy as ever today.
Anyway, back to Melissa. She didn't harbor any real anger toward Isono anymore; she’d just missed the right timing to let the guy off the hook.
"Eddie, you're in the Sword Division. Nakajima, I'm putting you in the Humanoid Fighter Division."
"Wait, isn't Eddie stronger in a Humanoid Fighter?" I asked.
Melissa gave a mischievous grin. "It’s fine. I’m having Nakajima go in with some new equipment."
"Huh? I'm only using a hammer because I'm clumsy..." Nakajima muttered.
"It’s the same type of weapon, so don't worry. Also, the women are participating too. Claire, I want you in the Humanoid Fighter Division. The Former Great King will take the final match."
Melissa hummed happily as she filled out the match cards. I had a bad feeling about this.
"Melissa... are you sure I shouldn't go out there?"
With a lineup like that, it felt weird for me to stay on the sidelines.
"Yes. Captain, you need to let the enemy think you’re just the strategist type. Even if they had intel on you, they wouldn't believe a guy who organizes something like this is actually a hardcore front-line fighter."
"Wait, that's the angle!? Wouldn't it be better to just crush them and show off?"
"Ehehe. Listen, Captain. By making you look like the brain, the assassins are bound to come after you. When they do, we catch them. That’ll be our trigger for total war. We can use it as an excuse to force the upper echelons to make contact. Veronica-chan and Claire are on the same page."
Yikes. For the first time in a while, I felt a literal chill of terror.
Leo-chan, reporting for duty as the sacrificial lamb! My SAN points were plummeting toward zero! (Panic)
To think I was the bait... that’s a heavy responsibility.
And so, the roster for the Outer Space One-day Tournament was set.
...By the way.
As part of my broader scheme, I’d actually opened a discount store in Latarnia. I’d stocked it with miscellaneous goods and snacks that Yankees would love, all inside a building that smelled perpetually of car air fresheners. I’d even started selling greasy bento, cup noodles, and chips that looked like a heart attack in a bag.
The trading company had moved at a breakneck pace to set up production bases on planets owned by the Ogre God Nation. To sweeten the deal, I put a bowling alley right next door and hired Latarnian security guards to keep the peace.
It hadn't really made the news yet, but the sales were insane. In a good way.
The Latarnian government was actually begging us to open more branches as soon as possible. As expected, they were absolutely starved for entertainment.
The Ogre God Nation had warned me not to get involved with the Latarnians, but I just established a corporation within the Ogre God Nation and entered the market that way. The headquarters was officially listed in the Battle Dome.
If we ended up fighting over the profits, it might lead to war, but so far, things were peaceful. I figured as long as we stuck to retail, we’d be fine. Probably.