Ch. 71..75: Interstellar_ Return of the Villain Chapter 71-75

Chapter 71: Livestreaming

Lyra got it right away. "Ah, I see."

Thierry scrolled through a few more pages, noticing they were all video clips featuring her. "Since you’re trending, a lot of streamers are probably sharing your matches to boost their own views."

That’s when Lyra’s face turned serious.

"W-what’s up?" Thierry asked, a bit nervous.

"They didn’t pay me any royalties." Lyra quickly pulled up her contacts and found Morrison’s name. "Set up a dedicated livestream for me."

No way was she going to let anyone make money off her without giving her a cut. In other words, nobody was getting a free ride.

She turned to Zinnia and Thierry. "I’m thinking of streaming our team matches too. We’ll split the profits evenly among the three of us. If you want to do solo streams, I can handle that as well, with a twenty percent cut for management. How does that sound?"

The intensity in her voice made them both nod without thinking.

Lyra then asked Morrison to draft the contracts.

Once she was done with the calls, she noticed Zinnia and Thierry were staring at her like she’d just grown mushroom on her head.

"So this is the real Lyra," Zinnia said, still in shock.

Lyra frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I thought you’d be all cold and detached, like you wouldn’t even blink at a billion credits," Zinnia said, almost in a daze.

Lyra felt a bit annoyed by Zinnia’s exaggerated imagination.

As the tournament moved into the later stages, the competition got even tougher. Most of the weak got extinguished, like gold being separated from the sand.

During today’s team match, for the first time, the game lasted over two minutes.

The streamer in charge of their broadcast quickly changed the title, using this as a way to drum up excitement.

"New Record! ’Whatever’ Breaks the Two-Minute Mark! As the Tournament Draws to a Close, the Battles Get Even More Intense."

"Whether the organizers planned it or not, there’s no denying the match was epic..."

After the three wrapped up their match, the streamer swung by for a post-game interview, as usual. He tossed a few questions their way while the chat exploded.

"Move it, I need to see my Lyra."

"Lyra, my baby, I love you—"

"Shoutout to my girl Zinnia!"

After the quick Q&A, the three of them logged off.

They kept their streams to about thirty minutes a day, plus the solo matches, making the total just under an hour. But even with that, the earnings were impressive.

As Zinnia looked over the daily revenue reports, she couldn’t help but be amazed, "I think I’ve already made enough to cover all my college tuition..."

Thierry nodded, "With our streams blowing up, we’re sitting at the top of the mid-tier rankings."

Only the big names, like famous EPMA players, top-tier mecha game streamers, and official accounts, were ahead of them.

By the start of the third month, as the tournament neared its end, fewer than a hundred teams and just five hundred players were left.

Thanks to Lyra’s charisma and Thierry’s connections, their team’s popularity was now matching the top streamers, even surpassing EPMA’s leading team. This caught a lot of eyes.

As soon as the three logged in that day, they received an official invitation. The organizers had sent them a link, asking them to check it out.

"Lyra, why do you think the tournament organizers want to meet with us?" Zinnia asked.

As soon as they clicked the link, they found themselves standing in front of the virtual headquarters. Someone was already stationed at the entrance, and the moment their IDs appeared, the person rushed over to greet them.

"Lyra, Zinnia, Thierry, right? What an honor! The manager is eagerly awaiting your arrival."

The warm and overly respectful reception made Zinnia and Thierry feel a bit uneasy.

While waiting for the virtual environment to fully load, the three of them communicated through their team’s internal chat.

Most of the conversation was between Zinnia and Thierry, with Lyra staying silent, lost in thought. Eventually, she advised them, "Don’t say too much once we’re inside."

Just then, the scene finished loading, revealing a middle-aged man standing nearby. He immediately locked eyes with Lyra and, with a smile, said, "I thought Mr. Whyte was the one leading the team."

Whether it was a compliment or something else was hard to tell.

Thierry, though straightforward, wasn’t naive. "I’m flattered. Compared to Lyra, I’m not as skilled at handling these kinds of situations."

From this brief exchange, it was clear that whatever the manager had in mind wasn’t going to be good news. Lyra had probably already figured out his angle, which explained why she had warned them earlier.

In the virtual meeting, there were no refreshments or comfy chairs offered—just the stark reality of business. Even though it was clear Lyra was the leader, she didn’t rush to speak.

The planning manager, likely assuming they were just students, skipped the formalities and got straight to the point. "Here’s the deal: You three have gained significant popularity during the tournament, and we’d like to launch a dedicated livestream channel for your matches."

An official promotion—this was big!

Zinnia’s face lit up instantly, but just as she was about to respond, she caught Lyra’s eye and held back.

"We’ve already signed away our streaming rights," Lyra said coolly. "The official channel can simply broadcast our current streams."

The planning manager assumed she hadn’t fully grasped the offer. "What I’m suggesting is that you hand over your streaming rights to us, and we’ll take care of the broadcasting. We’d split the profits with you."

Sensing their hesitation, he added, "You should understand that the traffic from an official promotion would dwarf what your current setup can generate. Even after splitting the revenue, your earnings would be significantly higher than they are now."

In reality, he was mainly interested in the buzz around their team, especially Thierry’s rising stardom.

Among the three, Lyra—aside from her striking looks—hadn’t really stood out in the matches.

Zinnia had both the looks and the skills, but neither was enough to make her a top-tier sensation. Pouring resources into her wouldn’t be the best investment.

The manager’s offer sounded tempting. Zinnia seemed ready to agree on the spot.

But Lyra wasn’t one to be easily swayed. "May I ask, how many teams and individuals are currently being promoted by the official channel?"

The manager’s expression remained neutral. "Don’t worry about that. You’ll definitely be one of our key focuses."

Lyra gave a thin smile and pressed further, "Then, who is your top pick for the championship team?"

The manager’s confident demeanor faltered, and Lyra continued, "If you’re not planning to promote us as the champion team, then we’re not interested in transferring our rights."

Zinnia looked puzzled by the exchange. ’Isn’t the champion determined by skill? How could the organizers already know who would win?’

The planning manager quickly realized he had underestimated Lyra. He had expected to deal with just another group of students who would be easily swayed by a shiny offer, but Lyra clearly understood how the game was played.

"Miss Shedd, you must be mistaken," the manager replied smoothly, his tone almost too reassuring. "The tournament is fair and transparent. We simply select popular seed players for livestreams. There’s no favoritism involved, and we’ve seen upsets in the past."

Thierry’s expression darkened at these words. He knew exactly what the manager was alluding to—the year his cousin, Cohen, had shocked everyone by winning the championship against all odds.

 

Chapter 72: Manipulating the Game

For the contestants, this was just another competition, but for the businessmen behind it, it was all about making a profit.

Organizing a massive competition like this across the entire Alliance wasn’t something a single sponsor could pull off.

There were definitely a few heavy hitters bankrolling this event, and they’d already picked their favorites. They even had a pretty good idea of who’d walk away with the championship.

Anyone who fell for their smooth talk and signed on the dotted line would just end up as a pawn in their game.

"But Miss Shedd, you must realize, once you enter the competition, we have the right to broadcast it," the planning manager insisted, his tone hardening as he tried to assert control.

"Broadcast all you want, but whether or not we cooperate is entirely up to us," Lyra shot back, not missing a beat. She stood her ground without a moment’s hesitation. "Our match is about to start, so goodbye."

With that, she swiftly closed the current page and walked out of the meeting room.

The manager stood there, stunned, as she left.

Frustration washed over him as he glanced at Thierry, who responded with nothing more than a dismissive snort.

He tried to stop Zinnia, but she just cheerfully waved him off and darted out the door.

Back in reality, the manager yanked off his helmet and slammed it onto the table in frustration. "Ungrateful brats!"

Soon after, his secretary entered the room, carrying some documents. "We’ve identified the company backing ’Whatever’."

The middle-aged man snatched the documents and quickly flipped through them, a cold smile spreading across his face. "So that’s why they’re so stubborn. They’re trying to take the whole pie for themselves, huh? Let’s see if they can handle that."

Meanwhile, Lyra, Thierry, and Zinnia made their way back to the competition arena. Zinnia was still puzzled. "Why didn’t we just agree?"

Since it affected all three of them, Lyra decided to lay it out clearly. "If we had agreed, we would’ve kissed our chances of winning goodbye."

"What? Why?" Zinnia asked, confused.

Thierry sighed, realizing Zinnia was still in the dark. "Let me break it down for you."

Zinnia’s eyes were on him, eager to understand.

"Over the past decade, EPMA has snagged the championship eight times. Sure, maybe they’re good, but it’s more likely that they were the chosen ones from the start."

"This time, EPMA’s Rose team has three S-Class players, and they’re always front and center on the main page. It’s a good bet that they’ve been picked to win. The organizers are pulling the strings behind the scenes. If we signed that contract, we’d just be there to make EPMA look better. Get it now?"

That’s why Lyra had asked if they were being promoted as the champion team. When the answer was no, she immediately turned them down.

That so-called "upset" the guy mentioned? It happened the year Cohen was competing. No one would dare mess with the Admiral’s son. The truth was, the organizers were secretly backing Cohen’s team that year, and sure enough, they ended up winning big.

Zinnia’s face fell as reality set in. "Damn, and here I thought the organizers actually liked us. Turns out they’re just scared we might win and want to keep us under control!"

She had nailed it with her complaint, perfectly summing up the organizers’ real intentions.

"Then... won’t they come after us?" Zinnia asked, her worry showing.

Lyra and Thierry exchanged surprised looks. Maybe she wasn’t as clueless as they’d thought.

They hadn’t exactly won over the organizers, so getting targeted was definitely on the table. And it was likely to happen sooner rather than later.

When Lyra caught sight of their next opponents, she could already sense the organizers’ arrogance at play.

Her opponent was a mecha prodigy, famous for his skills from a young age. He’d been training in mecha combat since he was a kid, but due to a close relative’s criminal past, he was barred from joining the military. This year was his last shot at the competition, and the organizers were pushing him hard, spotlighting him as their golden boy, eager to draw in the crowds.

Normally, a player like him would be saved for the final rounds, carefully positioned to face the pre-selected champion. But this time, they threw him in early, clearly intending for him to take Lyra out.

No matter how things played out, the organizers were poised to benefit. If the mecha prodigy won, his fame would skyrocket. If he lost, well, his image might take a hit, but it would stir up even more drama.

For Lyra, though, the stakes were high whether she won or lost.

To the audience, this looked like a random match-up, but to those in the know, it was a calculated move by the investors.

Morrison, noticing the viewer count climbing at an alarming rate, felt a twinge of anxiety despite Lyra’s heads-up. He quickly connected to the streamer through his headset. "Don’t let the trolls get to you."

The live chat was already buzzing with comments like, "The mecha prodigy’s toast, Lyra’s unbeatable!" and "If he loses, he should just quit piloting mechas for good!" These were obvious jabs meant to rile up the mecha prodigy’s fans, and it worked like a charm.

"What’s with the hate? Cheer for your girl, but don’t trash our guy!"

"Lyra’s fans are the worst!"

"Everyone, chill out, it’s just trolling," the streamer tried to calm things down, telling the mods to kick out the troublemakers to keep up appearances. "Winning and losing is part of the game; let’s focus on skill and leave the personal stuff out."

But the damage was done. The mecha prodigy’s fans were fuming. To them, Lyra was just some newbie riding on their idol’s fame.

Meanwhile, their idol was feeling even more frustrated. ’Why am I up against a freshman? Sure, she has some buzz, but everyone knows it was just clever marketing.’

He had been looking forward to facing off against EPMA players—THAT would’ve been the real showdown with maximum exposure.

As he selected his skills, he muttered under his breath, "Fine. As long as I win, nothing else matters."

Before the match notification, he had gone over Lyra’s past performances. Her matches usually lasted over two minutes, showing she had solid skills, typical of a military academy student, but nothing top-tier.

This gave him a quiet confidence.

As soon as the countdown ended, they both launched into action.

The mecha prodigy had studied her fighting style. It was basic and old-school—greatsword, shield, and a bit of shooting.

Lyra never used the higher-damage weapons like lasers or railguns. Those had long cooldowns and needed precise timing, but if they hit, they could end the match in an instant.

The guy piloted a bipedal lizard mecha, light and fast, with an added tail as part of its design—a feature that gave him extra offensive capability without counting as an additional weapon.

This effectively gave him one more tool in his arsenal.

The lizard mecha roared to life, darting across the arena with nimble, quick steps.

Suddenly, it leaped into the air, its large tail swinging in a powerful arc. Lyra brought up her shield to block.

But the moment her shield went up, her view was obstructed. In that split second, she lost sight of her opponent.

As Lyra scanned the battlefield, she didn’t waste a second. Without pausing, she drew her sword and swung it in a swift 180-degree arc behind her.

The sharp clang that followed confirmed her hunch—she’d made contact.

Without pausing, she fired a shot from her mecha’s hand, the muzzle glowing as the blast tore through the air.

The mecha prodigy, seeing the open muzzle and realizing the danger, reacted instantly. He commanded his lizard mecha to curl its limbs inward, shielding the cockpit just in time.

The maneuver saved him from elimination, but the force of the impact sent him flying across the arena.

As he spiraled through the air, dizziness set in, but he fought it off, desperately trying to regain control of his mecha and avoid Lyra’s inevitable follow-up. Inside, anger bubbled up.

’This woman’s way stronger than her data suggested!’

It hit him—it was all the organizers’ fault. They’d underestimated Lyra, and now he was paying the price.

But he wasn’t just any competitor. He’d been famous since he was a kid and had years of experience backing him up.

Even in midair, he kept his cool, quickly stabilizing his mecha. As soon as he got his bearings, he unleashed a shot from his railgun.

’This one’s got her!’

It seemed impossible for Lyra’s humanoid mecha, now charging at full speed, to dodge the blast.

Thirty seconds left on the clock.

Chapter 73: Lyra Lost?

A blinding explosion tore through the battlefield.

As the smoke cleared, the humanoid mecha dropped its shattered shield with a metallic clang.

Without missing a beat, it launched into the air, sending a hail of bullets straight at the lizard mecha’s cockpit. But the attack wasn’t strong enough to finish the fight in one go.

The pilot, known as "Maddog," let out a sigh of relief. As soon as his mecha touched down, he unleashed a charged laser beam, confident this would be the finishing blow.

But to his shock, the humanoid mecha twisted in mid-air in a way that seemed impossible, narrowly dodging the laser, which skimmed just past the cockpit.

Twenty seconds left...

"No way!"

It wasn’t just Maddog who was stunned. The live chat erupted in disbelief.

"Lyra’s balance is on another level!"

"She always pulls off the unexpected. I’m starting to respect her skills as much as her looks."

"Stop hyping her up! If she’s so good, why do her matches always last more than two minutes? Zinnia’s way better!"

"What’s wrong with two minutes? If you can do better, why don’t you try?"

In regular matches, battles could drag on for ten minutes or even half an hour. Saying two minutes was long was only because it didn’t match the lightning-fast pace of other top players.

This was the downside of a huge fanbase—arguments were bound to happen.

Feeling the tension, the streamer quickly shifted back to commentary. "Maddog’s fired off two of his strongest attacks. Now, for the next few seconds, he’s only got his claws and tail left."

"And since Lyra’s lost her shield, she’s down to just her sword and gun, which actually puts her in a slightly better position." After a brief pause, the streamer added, "If she can end the match while Maddog’s attacks are on cooldown, that would be her best shot."

It was almost as if Lyra heard him.

Her humanoid mecha charged forward, sword drawn, moving with a speed and precision that matched the lizard mecha’s agility.

Many viewers were baffled.

"How can a humanoid mecha keep up with a lizard mecha’s speed?"

The streamer, eyes wide with disbelief, quickly analyzed, "It’s possible if Lyra predicted the lizard mecha’s moves and closed the gap before it could react."

He was spot on.

With a powerful swing, the sword sliced off one of the lizard mecha’s claws. When the lizard mecha tried to retaliate with its tail, the humanoid mecha caught it mid-swing and slammed the lizard mecha hard into the ground.

Inside his cockpit, Maddog felt his brain rattle as his mecha hit the ground.

Once the agile lizard mecha was pinned, the match was all but decided. Maddog’s eyes locked onto the charge timer for his railgun and laser.

Only three seconds left!

CRASH!

The humanoid mecha severed the lizard mecha’s remaining arm.

Two seconds!

The humanoid mecha’s fist crashed into the cockpit’s transparent exterior, causing it to crack.

One second!

Maddog desperately slammed the fire button for his railgun, but just as he did, his mecha was hurled into the air.

The cannon fired, but the shot went wide, exploding harmlessly in the sky like a firework.

The lizard mecha plummeted back to the ground, its systems failing, and the match was over.

BANG! Back at the event headquarters, the planning manager slammed his desk in frustration. He spun his chair away from the screen, unable to face the result.

"We underestimated her again!"

He had counted on Maddog to wipe the floor with Lyra, but she had turned the tables.

Stubbornly, he stared at Lyra’s match data, replaying the fight in his mind. It finally dawned on him: she had been holding back from the start!

But why?

Unable to shake the question, he quickly ordered the operations team to take action, knowing they had to come up with a coping strategy before it was too late.

On the other side, Lyra had barely finished her match when a message from Morrison popped up. "Boss, Maddog’s fans are losing it in the chat. The mecha battle forums are blowing up with posts bashing you."

"It’s not just Maddog’s fans," Lyra replied, unfazed. In this game, win or lose, there’s always a cost. "Here’s what you should do: get ahead of it. Post something first, then..."

...

During the live interview, the streamer, clearly treading carefully, asked, "Lyra, how do you feel about defeating Maddog?"

Lyra gave a slight smile and replied, "In a match, strength speaks for itself. I was stronger, so it’s a natural thing that I won."

The implication was clear: Maddog was weaker, so of course, he lost.

This comment immediately set off a firestorm among Maddog’s die-hard fans, without any need for additional provocation.

"Big talk for someone who was in middle school when Maddog was already famous!"

"Wow, she really made skipping classes sound classy!"

"One win, and she’s already this arrogant?"

"Besides her looks, what else has she got? With those stats, she got lucky and now thinks she’s all that?"

"Serious question, though. Lyra’s stats are way worse than Maddog’s. How did she even win?"

"Yeah, someone needs to ask the officials."

With nearly 100 billion residents in the Alliance, steering public opinion was easy, but once it turned, it could easily overwhelm you.

As the buzz grew louder, the heat soon shifted toward the organizers.

"Hey, officials, don’t just sit there! Lyra’s stats are lower than Maddog’s. How did she win?"

"Be real—did you mess with Maddog’s abilities? Two ultimate attacks, and both missed? Everyone knows Maddog’s got an 80% hit rate!"

Fans from all sides started clashing, while the general public watched the drama unfold, enjoying the spectacle.

Finally, the officials were forced to respond, releasing the match’s real-time data. They even threw in a bit of shade, saying, "As for how Lyra achieved victory, only she knows."

But Lyra didn’t back down. She promptly posted on her live stream, "The stronger one wins."

The flames reignited, drawing even more attention, including from neutral viewers curious about the ongoing chaos.

Watching the chat explode, Morrison wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Boss, aren’t we pushing it a bit too far?"

Lyra, eyes fixed on the glowing screen, asked, "What do you see?"

After a moment, he quietly replied, "Traffic flow."

In other words, all this chaos was bringing in viewers—and that meant money.

This had been part of the plan from the start, though they hadn’t expected the organizers to jump in, causing everything to blow up so quickly.

Despite the buzz, Morrison couldn’t shake his unease. They had definitely ticked off the organizers—what would happen in the next match? If they lost, the fallout could be disastrous.

"We’re playing a high-stakes game, chasing high rewards," Lyra said calmly.

They were grabbing money from the jaws of hungry wolves, but it was a risky game.

After a quick strategy session, Lyra stood up and headed for the door.

There’s a saying: fortune favors the bold. When opportunity knocks, you have to answer.

Just then, a loud crash came from Zinnia’s room. The tall girl stormed out, frustration written all over her face. "That damn Grains! I was THIS close!"

Lyra could guess what had happened. For once, she poured Zinnia a glass of water. "You lost?"

"Yeah," Zinnia replied, chugging down the water. "If he hadn’t gone with a flying mecha, I wouldn’t have been on the defensive the whole time! I thought it was a draw, but then the data showed my mecha took more damage, so I lost."

"How long did the match last?" Lyra asked.

Zinnia looked a bit sheepish. "About ten minutes."

Lyra watched the replay, quickly realizing that what Zinnia called a "draw" was more of a desperate last stand. Zinnia had latched onto her opponent and detonated their power source just before losing, which made the match look closer than it was.

"The attack data seems off," Lyra noted, her eyes narrowing. Even though Zinnia had been on the back foot, the match shouldn’t have been that lopsided.

She forwarded the video to Morrison. "Get Sean to analyze this."

If things were unfolding as Lyra suspected, Thierry’s match would likely be a tough one as well. However, as long as he avoided going up against Team Rose’s leader, it shouldn’t be too overwhelming.

As the third-to-last round approached, Zinnia was pacing like a caged animal, practically vibrating with frustration. "Ugh, the organizers are so annoying! Fine, I lost my solo match, but now you two are only going to face top-tier opponents, right? And what about our team?"

"Don’t stress. Our team is actually in the safest spot right now," Thierry reassured her.

"Not necessarily," Lyra countered, her gaze fixed on the list of upcoming opponents.

The next team they were up against: a wild card from NMA.

 

Chapter 74: Facing Helion

After Saturday’s match, the three of them decided to grab a bite at the cafeteria.

Thierry, who was usually the life of the party, seemed a little worn out. Like Lyra, he’d faced a tough opponent, and to make things worse, the organizers had tampered with his stats, lowering his attack power just enough to mess with him.

"Our next team match is against Helion’s squad. God knows what kind of stunts the organizers will pull this time," Thierry muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He had hoped to rely on pure skill, but it seemed like the competition was turning into a rigged game, all because he was standing in the way of someone’s profits.

Zinnia was just as frustrated, her face buried in her hands. For her, anything that couldn’t be fixed with a good punch was just a pain.

"There’s actually a simple solution," Lyra said, pausing with her fork in mid-air, her eyes locked on Thierry. "You’ve got a powerful ally who’s more than willing to help."

"Who?" Zinnia immediately perked up, intrigued by who could be bold enough to take on the organizers.

Thierry’s face lit up as he clapped his hands. "Of course! Why didn’t I think of that?" He beamed at Lyra. "I’ll ask him to keep an eye on your match, too!"

"That won’t be necessary," Lyra replied calmly.

"It is, though. We’re teammates, after all."

But the next day, as they logged into the match site, Thierry scratched his head awkwardly and told Lyra, "Uh... Cohen said it might not be appropriate for him to do that..."

If Cohen was seen watching a young woman’s match, the media would have a field day with it. Thierry started to wonder if Lyra had already guessed Cohen would say no when she insisted it wasn’t necessary.

"Yeah, I figured," Lyra said, realizing that Cohen probably wasn’t eager to cross paths with her anytime soon.

Zinnia, who had been in the dark the day before, finally caught on. "Wait, your powerful ally is Admiral Whyte’s son!"

It all clicked for her now. "I remember—you’re the Admiral’s nephew!"

When their team was up to compete, the spectator panel suddenly buzzed with excitement.

"Holy crap, Lieutenant Commander Whyte is here to watch the match!"

"Well, that makes sense—Thierry is his cousin."

"Didn’t he win the mecha championship in that crazy upset a few years ago?"

Even Zinnia was surprised. "So Thierry really is Lieutenant Commander Whyte’s cousin. He’s so low-key about it."

What should have been a regular match turned into a spectacle with Cohen’s arrival. But no one was more stunned than the organizers.

"Who did you say showed up?" The planning manager stared at the screen in disbelief.

The verified ID, with its flashy champion badge, belonged to none other than Cohen. He was standing calmly by the lower railing of the arena, in a spot reserved for players with linked accounts.

The manager quickly made a call. "Uh, Lieutenant Commander Whyte is here to watch Thierry’s match. Should we still...?"

"Are you out of your mind? Do you want to lose your job?"

Cohen was a Master Peculiar who had seen real action on the front lines in a mecha. He’d spot any data tampering in a heartbeat.

Before, they could get away with messing with Thierry’s stats because Cohen wasn’t around. But now, no one in their right mind would dare to pull any tricks with Cohen right there. If he so much as raised a question about the match, his followers would flood the official channels with complaints.

So, with no funny business from the organizers, the match went off without a hitch.

Today’s map was a real challenge—a rugged landscape crisscrossed with deep ravines.

To navigate the tricky terrain, Zinnia opted for a snake-like mecha as their main attacker, while Thierry chose a Lizard mecha to provide aerial support. Lyra, staying true to her style, stuck with her trusty humanoid mecha, ready to back up the team.

"Lyra, here we are again." Before the match officially began, while the team was making last-minute tweaks, a familiar, teasing voice cut through the comms.

It was Helion from the opposing team.

"Ever since you beat me last time, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Finally, I get another shot. Shoutout to the organizers for this match-up."

Helion had a reputation for his aggressive and bold playstyle, which made him a favorite among some fans. But despite his flair, he wasn’t quite among the top-tier players.

Zinnia, adjusting her mecha’s skill settings, shivered slightly. "Ugh, what a creep!"

Thierry scowled. "Just ignore him."

A loud beep signaled the end of their prep time.

Both teams dropped into the map simultaneously.

The terrain was a maze of yellowish ravines, and the wind howled through them, occasionally kicking up clouds of sand that blurred visibility.

The audience had a bird’s-eye view of both teams, but the players could only see their own positions on the map.

Team Whatever didn’t rush in. Instead, they coordinated through voice chat.

"I’ll scout ahead," Thierry said, his Lizard mecha clinging to a rocky wall as he scanned the map. "They’ll probably send out a Spider mecha to scout. If I run into them, I should be able to handle it."

"Yeah, just take it slow. I’ll be right behind you," Zinnia replied. Despite her usual impatience, she was all about careful strategy during matches. She then asked, "Lyra, what’s your move?"

All three of them were seasoned players. They picked mechas they knew inside and out, and their coordination was smooth without needing anyone to take full command.

"I’ll keep tabs on Helion," Lyra answered.

With their plan in place, they quickly spread out across the map.

The livestream commentator’s voice picked up with excitement. "They’re on the move! As expected, their teamwork is spot on!"

Meanwhile, the chat was buzzing with a mix of fans, critics, and curious spectators drawn in by the buzz from the previous day’s events.

Viewers could toggle between different perspectives, watching the action from a spectator’s view or jumping into the cockpit of any player.

Contestants also had the option to share their control panels with the audience, and today, Lyra decided to do just that.

"Whoa, Lyra’s showing her control panel! That’s gutsy!"

"Time to take notes, folks!"

"Please, what can a first-year really show us?"

"She made it to the third-to-last round in the solo tournament, so maybe don’t underestimate her."

As expected, chat erupted in arguments, but the commentator stayed focused on the action. "It looks like Thierry’s about to face off with the other team’s Eagle mecha... and there it is!"

Both mechas launched missiles at each other, creating a massive dust cloud. But Thierry managed to gain the upper hand, securing a prime position.

"Zinnia, I’ve sent you the coordinates!"

"On my way!"

Zinnia’s Python mecha slithered through the ravine, closing in on the Eagle. She raised her mecha’s head and fired a precise laser beam, hitting the opponent’s tail feathers.

"Team Whatever takes the early advantage!"

Lyra, watching the updated coordinates, advanced her mecha while zooming out on the map. Three seconds later, she veered off, circling around to approach from another angle.

"It looks like Lyra’s setting up a flank, but Helion’s Werewolf mecha is blocking her path. Will we see a head-on clash?" the commentator wondered, his voice thick with anticipation.

Zinnia’s Python mecha darted through the deep ravine, locked in a tense chase with the opposing team’s Eagle mecha.

The Eagle was quicker, zigzagging through the rocky terrain with ease, but it couldn’t afford to soar too high.

Thierry’s Lizard mecha was still perched on the cliffside, ready to strike from above.

"Gillia, how much longer?" the Eagle’s pilot shouted, his voice tight with anxiety as the pressure mounted.

"On my way!" came the swift reply.

Without warning, a thick glob of corrosive venom shot out from the shadows, splattering across the Python’s tail. The armor immediately began to sizzle and smoke as the acid gnawed away at the metal, threatening to weaken the Python’s mobility.

Chapter 75: Fierce Fight

Zinnia unleashed a barrage of bullets from the back of her mecha’s head, driving forward into the thick smoke instead of backing off. "Thierry, pin down Eagle!" she yelled.

"On it!" Thierry responded, quickly laying down suppressive fire from above, forcing Eagle to dive lower and navigate through the ravine.

Out of nowhere, a bright red tail sliced through the haze, smashing down with brutal force. It was a Python mecha.

Python’s tail struck Eagle, slamming it into the cliffside. It coiled around Eagle tightly, charging up its railgun.

But Vikie didn’t panic. She calmly entered a series of commands, prepared to take Zinnia down with her if it came to that. Then alarms started blaring in her cockpit, "Warning! Warning! Power source damaged."

The residual venom on Python’s tail had dripped onto Eagle. With its lighter armor designed for speed, Eagle’s corrosion spread rapidly.

In the live stream, the host clapped and cheered, hyping up the moment. The slight power slowdown gave Python just enough time to fully charge its cannon.

"Vikie!" Gillia, piloting Spider, tried to rush over to help, but a Lizard mecha on the cliff unleashed a burst of bullets, cutting her off. The two mechas immediately began a high-speed chase along the cliffside.

With a loud bang, Zinnia, in Python, managed to take down one of the enemies. Just as she turned to assist Thierry, a Werewolf mecha suddenly leaped down from a stone pillar.

In an instant, a fully charged laser shot straight through Python’s head, aiming for the cockpit located in the snake’s neck.

Zinnia’s heart skipped a beat as the laser barely missed the cockpit. She quickly swung Python’s tail, knocking Werewolf off balance. But before she could react, the enemy had vanished, and a powerful claw shattered the glass of her cockpit.

Python, built for quick moves in the ravine, was now being toyed with. The usually noisy chatroom went dead silent, everyone glued to the screen, captivated by the intense battle.

"Werewolf is crazy fast!"

"And Zinnia’s skills are next level! She just used the enemy’s attack to take down Eagle."

Helion laughed as he attacked. "Gillia, keep Thierry occupied!"

They knew they had to take Zinnia out before Lyra arrived if they wanted a shot at winning.

Gillia, still dodging attacks, almost whimpered, "I’m trying!"

Spider landed on the flat ground of the ravine, spitting venom and firing lasers, but Thierry dodged everything with ease. Instead of creating space, Gillia found herself locked in close combat.

Gritting her teeth, Gillia left a pool of venom behind and jumped away.

Thierry couldn’t adjust Lizard at the moment because it was in midair. After moments’ thinking, he calmly shot at Lizard’s landing spot, using the recoil and tail to avoid the trap.

Gasps of awe rippled through the audience, everyone amazed at the slick maneuvers. Even Cohen smiled, thinking of Thierry who once challenged him without fear.

"Helion, I’m toast!" Gillia wailed as she continued to dodge while firing at Lizard.

Down at the bottom of the ravine, Helion kicked Python’s head down and leaped high into the air. His mecha’s wolf claws retracted, transforming into dual curved blades, designed to slice through cockpits like butter.

Zinnia struggled against the sudden weightlessness, frantically trying to input commands. But the force of Python’s head slamming into the ground caused her hands to slip from the controls.

Too late.

Just then, however, a large blade flew in from behind, smashing into Werewolf and sending it tumbling through the air.

The host zoomed in, shouting, "Lyra is here!"

A sleek, silver humanoid mecha stormed into the scene at full speed, relentlessly firing at the airborne Werewolf.

"You go first," Lyra ordered.

Lyra stepped over Python, poised to strike, but suddenly halted.

Her instincts kicked in as she raised her shield just in time to block a red beam of light slicing through the smoke. She quickly adjusted her controls, pulling back to dodge Werewolf’s curved blade, returning fire as she moved.

"Did you see that? Her timing is unreal!"

"Yeah, but how’s she gonna handle Werewolf up close without her sword?"

Werewolf charged through the hail of bullets like a wild beast, grabbed the humanoid mecha by the ankle, and swung it into the cliffside.

Sparks flew as Lyra’s mecha scraped against the rock, but she skillfully balanced it.

She almost reclined in her seat, guiding the massive machine like a seasoned martial artist.

Rolling a few times, Lyra landed near the sword. She quickly snatched it up, and blocked Werewolf’s blade just in time.

What followed was a brutal close-quarters battle. Punches, kicks, and gunfire flew as the sword and curved blade clashed in a blinding display of sparks.

The live stream viewers were transfixed by Lyra’s hands. They were moving so fast on the controls that they were a blur. Every input was precise, every attack seamless, and the screen lit up with her masterful technique.

"Who was doubting her just now? She’s killing it!"

"She’s matching Werewolf blow for blow with just a humanoid mecha!"

"Now we see why she’s so confident. She’s got the skills to back it up!"

Even the host, who’d questioned her confidence the day before, realized why Lyra carried herself with such assurance: When you’re this good, a little arrogance is just part of the package.

The haters went silent, and even some of the skeptics started to flip, turning into fans.

Lyra’s epic comeback was blowing up online.

Werewolf, though powerful in attack, had a weak spot—its low defense. After a well-placed strike, Lyra severed a connection strap on its leg, causing the mecha to stumble. She didn’t hesitate, slicing open the cockpit with a single, decisive blow, knocking Werewolf out of the match.

At the same time, Thierry managed to defeat Spider, securing their team’s advance to the next round.

After the match, Cohen, who’d been watching with interest, was about to log off. His time was valuable, after all. But just as he was about to exit, a familiar voice stopped him.

"Lieutenant Commander Whyte, are you here to watch the match too?"

He turned to see Erin Shedd, a face he hadn’t seen in a while. With a polite smile, he nodded, "My cousin’s competing here. Miss Shedd, enjoying some time off?"

"Yes," Erin replied, her smile graceful as she gazed at him. "I heard the mecha tournament is nearing its end, so I came to watch."

In the background, Thierry and Zinnia’s laughter echoed, followed by a distant, indifferent "hmm," which made Erin’s hand tighten slightly around the railing.

"I have something to attend to, so I’ll be leaving now," she said, her voice cool as she clicked to exit, her virtual avatar fading away.

"Cousin Cohen! Who were you just talking to?" Thierry jogged over, grinning widely. "Did you see me? Am I getting better?"

He was like a big, eager puppy, desperate for approval.

Cohen patted his shoulder sincerely, "You’ve improved a lot, and you owe much of that to your teammates."

Just then, Lyra walked over, and Cohen’s expression shifted slightly. He muttered something about having to go and quickly logged off.

"Huh? What’s the rush?" Thierry wondered aloud, turning to Lyra. "Aren’t you his lifesaver? Why didn’t he say anything to you?"

But Lyra just flashed a playful smile. "Maybe he’s a bit shy."

Zinnia couldn’t hold back her laughter at Thierry’s puzzled look.

While their mood was light and easy, the planning manager wasn’t having such a good time.

Called into a tense meeting with the higher-ups, they were sternly warned, "You’d better get this under control. If you can’t handle it, prepare for the consequences."

After getting thoroughly scolded, the planning manager nodded and bowed like a scolded child before leaving the meeting room.

Once back in his office, his frustration boiled over, and he took it out on his secretary, snapping at them for no good reason. Still fuming, he picked up the phone and made two calls.

"The semifinals are coming up next week," he began, his tone calculated. "Could I ask you to personally take on Thierry? And as for Lyra, let’s have Caleb handle her. What do you think?"

A pause, then a voice on the other end responded, "That works."