Since this is important, let me emphasize it once more—this was something that absolutely had to be done.
If you’re wondering why I entered the dungeon with a jump rather than a conventional approach, the first thing to note is that there was a significant physical distance between the sea and the dungeon.
Then, what about the Jump Booster itself?
Why did it have to be a Jump Booster?
From a practical standpoint, one could call this “inefficient.”
I used magic to create an explosion that launched the hull upward.
As a result, Illinois consumed 17% of its total mana.
Seventeen percent of total mana.
That’s how precise and powerful this maneuver was. It had to lift Illinois momentarily while ensuring that the output was controlled precisely enough not to damage the nearby warships waiting in formation.
Failure meant not even entering the dungeon and instead crashing straight into the Golden Gate Bridge. This had to be a one-shot success.
From the outside, it must have looked like a spectacular entry into the dungeon.
That one moment.
Like a Hunter stepping into an S-Rank Tower, Illinois followed my command to inspire confidence in the people.
Even if it meant burning through nearly a fifth of its mana.
But there was no room for regret.
Inefficiency? That’s just another name for romance!
In the end, the results speak for themselves.
If this 17% mana expenditure led to failure, it would be my mistake.
But if we cleared the dungeon successfully with room to spare, then this move would be meaningful.
People love to spam the jump button when playing games, but I didn’t just press jump mindlessly to enter the dungeon.
In the first place, there is no jump button.
The only controls available are for maneuvering the battleship.
Besides, most of the combat happens in auto-combat mode anyway.
‘17% mana? Just a handicap.’
BOOOOOM!
The monstrous birds struck by Illinois’ missiles exploded in midair, their bodies crashing into the ocean below.
But Illinois wasn’t merely detonating the missiles in midair—
Instead, the warheads were driven directly into the creatures’ bodies before exploding.
BOOM!
Another explosion.
More of the massive birds attempting to land on Illinois’ bridge were intercepted.
Some were blown away by direct missile hits, while others lost momentum from the shockwave and plummeted vertically into the sea.
Hundreds, maybe thousands of them.
The sheer size of these monsters was immense, and even worse, every time one was killed, more kept appearing from above the clouds, swarming toward Illinois.
Yet, Illinois’ mana reserves still exceeded 70%.
That’s right.
Exterminating A-rank monsters inside the dungeon consumed far less energy than using a Jump Booster to enter.
“Drei, are the combat recording drones still operational?”
“Yeah. Some are physically attached to the ship, so recording isn’t an issue. The flying ones, however… ah.”
Drei, who was managing the combat drones, suddenly looked flustered.
BOOM!
A drone—destroyed.
Shortly after Illinois’ anti-air guns fired indiscriminately, a drone exploded.
“What happened? Did our rookie mess up? Or was it you, Drei?”
“Neither. Do I look like a buggy AI to you?”
“A goddess’s joke.”
“If a god tells a bad joke, that’s divine punishment, you know.”
It wasn’t hit by the anti-air guns.
“A monster crashed into it. A piece of its corpse hit the drone.”
A bird monster, shredded by mana-infused anti-air shells, had scattered its flesh midair.
A chunk of that flesh struck a recording drone, sending it spiraling downward.
“Tsk. That was all US Department of Defense budget, you know.”
“Relax, Commander. They must have anticipated some drone casualties. If anything, they’re probably thrilled. The footage clearly shows their warship inside an S-Rank Tower, unleashing overwhelming firepower against top-tier monsters.”
Drei pulled up a video feed in a small popup window on the bridge’s screen.
“They’ll love this kind of immersive footage.”
RATATATATATATA!!
A relentless barrage of vibrant projectiles erupted from Illinois, resembling something straight out of a futuristic mecha anime.
“Even though they’re mana shells rather than real bullets, if you add some CGI effects to the explosions, this could be straight out of a war film.”
“Of course. If we put it in grander terms, this is an actual war between humanity and the Towers.”
The mana-infused projectiles, meticulously shaped to match the caliber of real shells, tore through monsters midair.
One drone captured the entire scene—from the precise bombardment to a monstrous bird being riddled with holes by anti-air fire.
And then—
“Ugh.”
“Ah, sorry. That was a bit grotesque before the censorship filter kicked in.”
The footage froze at the worst possible moment.
A monstrous bird’s eyeball had landed perfectly in the drone’s view, staring directly into the camera before the drone plummeted and the feed cut off.
If someone had to name this footage, they could call it “Hatred Toward Humanity”.
That final glare in the monster’s dead eyes was filled with malice and resentment.
Of course, that was just assigning meaning to something meaningless.
‘In reality, it was just a dead monster glaring before it went down.’
Even so, such a gaze could make people flinch.
But in the end, this was all part of history—a history of victory.
The data collected in real time via Bluetooth to Illinois’ bridge had been cut short by the drone’s destruction.
However, the final combat footage the drone had left behind was already securely stored on the server.
BOOOOOM!
Not just the destroyed drone—
Every remaining drone and camera was capturing Illinois’ battle in vivid detail.
“…Should I be relieved that the public can’t see this? Or is it a shame?”
“If this were to be aired as is, every broadcasting station in the world would have to slap an R-rating on it. Too much gore, too much violence.”
Elaine mimicked poking her finger into her body, as if a hole had been blown through her.
She had a point.
Even in games or anime, when people get holes blown through them, the “higher-ups” start clearing their throats and rushing to censor it.
There are both valid and ridiculous reasons for such censorship.
But when a show attracts a young audience sitting in front of the TV, it does warrant some caution.
‘Yeah… watching a monster get holes blasted into it and exploding while kids are watching might be a bit much.’
This wasn’t a Hunter’s battle—
This was the S-Rank Tower raid of a “Battleship Hunter.”
It may have been fueled by mana, but on the outside, it looked exactly like an American warship in action.
“Let’s wrap this up quickly and send the footage out. Let them see what it really means to clear an S-Rank Tower.”
Flash.
Main cannons—charged.
“With overwhelming firepower.”
BOOOOOM!
Blue streaks of light sliced through the dark sky, and the monstrous birds rained down into the sea.
* * *
Human greed is endless.
And people always repeat the same mistakes.
Normally, people try to avoid making the same mistake multiple times—
But desire makes that difficult.
“…Man, I really want to see it.”
A black man sitting in an office in New York, sipping an Americano, licked his lips as he stared at the large screen in front of him.
“Master’s battle.”
“Would you like to rewatch the footage where he overwhelms Ironblood? Mr. Chairman?”
His white female secretary reached for the projector aimed at the screen, but the chairman raised a hand, stopping her.
“No. I’ve already rewatched that footage hundreds of times. I’ll do that later. Right now, we have a meeting.”
“…And you’re going to continue watching the Golden Gate S-Rank Tower Raid live during this meeting? They don’t even know when they’ll be out.”
“Exactly. It could take days, or just one day, or even just a few hours—no one knows.”
The chairman took another sip of his coffee before sinking back into his chair.
“We need to ride this wave. If we want to secure a spot in this capitalist jungle filled with bloodthirsty dogs, we can’t afford to sit still.”
“But, sir… We’re just a toy company.”
“……”
“Even the Japanese toy company that made figures for that B-Rank Hunter team ‘Powered Rangers’—”
“Ahem. Enough. How was I supposed to know Red and Blue would end up fighting over Pink in some soap opera love triangle? But Master is different.”
The chairman opened a drawer and pulled out several figures, placing them in front of his secretary.
“What are these…?”
“Maid Elaine, and Agent 4… 7? 7700? Whatever. These are figures of confirmed existing entities. They were hard to get—especially Elaine. Had to pay extra for that one.”
“…You’re not planning anything weird, are you?”
“Of course not. I’m just thinking about what to place next to them.”
The chairman crossed his arms, then suddenly spread them wide.
“A model kit of Battleship Illinois. How many do you think we’d sell if we start producing and selling it now?”
“Well… If they succeed in clearing the Golden Gate Tower, its market value is guaranteed. But, Chairman, won’t other companies start moving as well?”
“Of course. We’re already late. But just because we’re a latecomer doesn’t mean we can’t take down the frontrunners.”
The chairman spread out all five fingers on one hand.
“We move first. While producing Illinois, prepare to mass-produce the next summon Master will call forth.”
“And that would be…?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
The chairman covered his face with his dark-skinned hand—
Then grinned.
“…The Death Star.”
This chairman…
He was a block toy manufacturer.
“Let’s build everything around Master. Find a way to contact him. 10… 30… No, we’ll even give him 50% of our revenue—just make the deal happen.”
The chairman spread his arms wide, gesturing toward the screen.
“That man— He’s going to become this nation’s hero.”
* * *
Caw, Caw.
The sound of monstrous birds crying echoed through the battlefield.
But those weren’t real cries.
The actual monsters were already dead—
Their cries were merely echoes from the final moments captured in the footage.
Illinois’ tracking radar continued sweeping the area, ready to fire the moment a red dot appeared.
But…
No enemies remained.
Only floating carcasses filled the sea—
And what should have been there… wasn’t.
“…Elaine. Can you see anything?”
“Negative.”
I contacted Elaine, who had moved to the bow of Illinois, but she couldn’t find anything either.
“…Hmm.”
The path forward—
Whether it led to the boss room or not, clearing this floor should lead to the next stage…
“…Ah.”
Wait.
“Kiharu. Let me take control for a moment.”
“This body?”
“Yeah.”
Technically, Elaine could also do this.
But Kiharu was more intuitive for this particular task.
I picked up my smartphone and logged into the game.
Not just any game—
I opened the Summon Management App and navigated to [Fermata 8X].
And—
“Just as I thought.”
Through Kiharu’s eyes, I could see the game world.
It mirrored the real world—but in the stylized graphics of Fermata.
I raised one hand to my face,
The other holding the smartphone forward.
“Fe—”
My eyes locked onto the screen between my fingers.
“rma—”
My thumb pressed a special button.
“ta.”
Click.
The screen turned a monochrome gray—
And within that gray world, a very particular pink glow appeared.
“Southeast, 15,040 meters.”
I saw the path forward.
“Tracking initiated.”
Modern mobile games always include quest markers—
Without them, players would call it trash.
“Let’s go. To the next stage.”
With these eyes—
I can see the path.
