Huzzah! Clank, toss.
Honestly, in the end, these were just industrial machines. Normally, you'd need organizational authentication to open the emergency escape lever cover. But if that were the case, you wouldn't be able to react if you were sliding down a slope, sinking into a hole as water surged up, or getting firebombed by rioters.
Most companies disabled that feature on purpose. The big players made custom orders to bypass it, while smaller outfits and local civil servants—police included—just had to make do. They were forced to operate them against manufacturer recommendations. It was the same in the Empire, and Latarnia was no different.
Most modern models followed Galactic Empire standards anyway. Imperial robots had great specs, after all. And don't worry—there weren't any trade disputes with Latarnia. Their Humanoid Heavy Machinery standards were so universal that price competition had become a race to the bottom. It wasn't a viable business anymore.
Therefore, we started joint developments where the Empire handled the hardware for the Latarnian market and Latarnia provided the software. For the Taikyoku Nation, their own engineers handled the software. The margins were lower, but the volume was on a different scale. When you considered the demand in outer space, the price of individual units was just a statistic.
Ultimately, if the goal was to build good relationships with foreign powers to ensure Imperial stability, it was fine as long as we weren't in the red. If it really stopped making money, I could just build a factory in Chronos. It would be a huge step up from the light industry we were currently doing.
Chronos was going to become the manufacturing hub for all the surrounding nations! If I could pull that off, it would buy us fifteen years. I'd dump the profits into young researchers and creators to spark a technological revolution. After that? Let the chips fall where they may!
But for now... this was for me! For my sake alone! I was going to flood the world with anime, games, and manga! I'd start with outsourcing. There were tons of unemployed artists out there. Heh heh heh...
And so, clank, toss.
I finished disabling about ten units and called it a day. Next up: the Humanoid Fighters.
"I’m heading out, de-gowasu!"
"Dear Husband, please sit down and stay still."
Thus, I, the Space Kaiju Kawagon, was apprehended by Ren and the Knights and tossed into an air-raid shelter. I was feeling a bit peckish, so I looked for a snack... a nutrition bar. Right. I gnawed on it like a squirrel.
The now-important Kamishiro Clan Executive was stuck in the air-raid shelter. Everyone else was itching for a fight. It felt like being in solitary.
Isono and Nakajima eventually met up with the wives.
"Yo, how’s it going over there?"
"I smashed a bunch of Humanoid Heavy Machinery."
"Where’s your combat suit?"
"Didn't need it."
"You're an idiot."
While we wasted time with that pointless conversation, I watched the Grand Duchy of Chronos Army fight. Those pilots had trained until they bled. They'd used that specific simulator. Even if they couldn't clear it solo, every one of them could make it through the mid-game. Katori-sensei had even come by to give them hand-to-hand combat drills. On Nightmare Mode!
Now, those results were being put to the test.
"This is Grand Duchy of Chronos Army Team Iron Hawk! We have the enemy craft in sight. They aren't responding to warnings! Requesting permission to engage!"
"Permission granted. Engage if they show hostility. Until then, hold your positions."
That was Jim’s voice. He was an old classmate of mine, a former commoner. The top brass of the Grand Duchy of Chronos Army were all members of the Kamishiro Clan. They were slated to become future Dukes of the Galactic Empire, but many of them lacked any real background. They were commoners from the Imperial Capital, Beast Race citizens from local planets, or descendants of settlers who’d undergone Chlorella Treatment.
Just being military brass wouldn't be enough to secure a dukedom. Kevin had his status as a leader for the Female-type Zork, but it was a hard sell for the others. The reality was that some nobles would look down on them even if they were Counts. That’s when I came up with the Grand Duchy of Chronos Peerage Laundering scheme.
Basically, I’d make them nobles of the Grand Duchy first, then elevate them to Dukes later. In the Grand Duchy of Chronos, a 'lord' was basically just a mayor or a governor. The administrative duties weren't that complex, making it manageable even for those from commoner backgrounds. It was even better if the titles were for a fixed term. If they got ousted, they could just move to a fief in the Galactic Empire.
I wanted them to use this as a learning experience for governance—even if I’d thrown them straight into Nightmare Mode! As long as the system was already in place, almost anyone should be able to manage a smooth transition... hopefully. Besides, since everyone was a new noble, I could fabricate titles however I wanted. It was fine! They had the results to back it up! The opposition back in the Empire was just looking for things to complain about.
Marquis Jim was the one in command. He was a Chlorella-treated human and a descendant of settlers, standing nearly two meters tall. Because of his height, he’d been forced into the basketball club back in the day. This was his first real battle as a commander. I was vibrating with excitement.
"Proone Flag confirmed! It's a dead ringer for a Proone Empire Holy Knight-exclusive Machine! They’re equipped with ballistic weaponry!"
"Copy that. Hail them in the Proone language. Bishop-class: [Halt]."
A sound like grinding mandibles filled the air.
"No response! The enemy has leveled their weapons!"
"Fire!"
Waiting until they aimed was the right call. My guys could dodge after the trigger was pulled, after all.
"Missile lock-on! Evade!"
They manually outmaneuvered the missiles, moving in ways that stayed out of the sensors' blind spots.
"Launch EMP mines! Kill those missiles!"
The moment the mines went off, the displays whited out for an instant. When the feed returned, the missiles had lost tracking and detonated in the atmosphere.
See? Our data on Latarnia-made missiles was flawless. Unless it was a heavy missile from a battleship, my guys could dodge it.
"Enemy is firing a Latarnia-made battle cannon. Intercepting."
As if a battle cannon would ever hit... I thought. A Chronos Machine closed the gap and swung its beam blade. The heavily armored fake-Proone machine tried to block with its shield, but it was no use. A kick broke its stance, and a diagonal strike sent it up in a fireball.
Wow, my pilots were way too strong! The other enemy units were being picked off one by one.
"Capture one of them."
"Roger."
At Jim’s order, four machines converged on the last survivor, entangling it in a net launcher. It wasn't even a contest.
"...Leo-sama?"
Shiyun arrived. She’d already reached the point where she could survive for three minutes in that simulator. One-oh-one and Tatiana were around the same level.
"T-To think ordinary pilots are this skilled... it’s incredible..."
"Yep! Every pilot should be aiming for a solo clear!"
I gave her a thumbs-up. She muttered something about us becoming a hegemonic state, but I didn't think it was that simple. Right now, no matter how good the individuals were, we couldn't win against sheer numbers. War was a game of logistics and volume. I was currently in the process of securing that volume. To do that, we had to become the factory for the neighboring countries.
I was starting to see the path forward. Time to give it my all!