Chapter 1

1. What is Plan Ship 111?

In the depths of the ocean, on a small island far from human control, there stands a dilapidated building that has only been recently renovated.

Long ago, when humans still dominated most of the seas, this place was the frontline against the Deep Sea Fleet. But after many years, its coordinates had long been abandoned and forgotten. Only a man, unable to bear the humiliation, found the coordinates of this island in a pile of old papers and finally led his fleet, which had been mocked countless times, to this isolated island.

The man who occupied this place was once full of ambition, vowing to change his fate and transform his lineage. However, a month of torment gradually darkened and hardened his soul, turning it into a pitch-black mass.

And today, the gears of fate continue to turn coldly, crushing the man's spirit and soul.

"Commander..."

A girl in a sailor uniform stood at the door, her face filled with sorrow.

Seeing the man, who was kneeling in front of a machine, looking exhausted, she helplessly covered her mouth, tears almost spilling from her eyes.

"Four thousand fuel, six thousand steel, six thousand ammunition, three thousand aviation aluminum, oh Lord, oh Buddha, can you give me a Yamato? Why am I African, I must be European..."

Muttering words that no one could understand, the man, dressed in a commander's outfit that had long turned gray, had long been worn down by reality. His once proud and ambitious self was now a dull, lifeless figure, mechanically stuffing various materials into a large, strange machine in the room, hoping this ancient machine could bring him some comfort.

Although he had failed countless times, with only unknown shipgirls appearing, he still did not give up on his dream of drawing a Yamato.

"Why is it like this? Is there something wrong with Plan Ship 110?"

Why does it have to be this way?

Seeing the man's emaciated figure, weakened by frugality, the girl could no longer hold back her tears, and they began to stream down her face.

"Ah."

Hearing the sound of crying behind him, the dejected man's movements paused for a moment. But he quickly resumed his mechanical actions, numbly lifting the resources and materials he had saved and throwing them into the machine, which looked like a portal.

"It's Plan Ship 110... Go back. Although I don't even have a regular secretary ship and can only have you stay here with me, it's enough for now. Go back." The man, without even glancing back, said in a hoarse voice.

"Commander..."

The girl's sobs echoed in the room, her tears dripping onto the old floor.

"Commander, please give up. Our base has no resources left! If this continues, we won't even have the resources to sortie, and we won't be able to rescue our comrades!"

"Shut up! 110! If I am sincere enough, Yamato will definitely appear!"

Facing the secretary ship's persuasion, the man, who had already gone mad, turned to the girl behind him with a fierce expression and roared: "Those famous historical warships will definitely come to me! It must be that I haven't thrown enough resources! It must be that my heart isn't sincere enough! This time it will definitely work!"

"Commander, don't! Why won't you admit you're African!"

"You can't stop me! 110! You and Montana, Central Design Ship 1, and Central Design Ship 2 are all unknown ships, with no names. How can you understand my desire for Yamato!"

Like a raging tiger, the man threw all the resources in his hands into the machine, scolding the girl behind him, who was in tears.

"I know the perfect original type is impossible, but I just want a replica! I just want a replica, even if it's just a superficial Yamato, isn't that enough?! I've been frugal for a month, even stopped expanding my activity area, I just want this one chance! I only get this one chance a month!"

Looking at the large machine in front of him, the man in the commander's uniform punched the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. A man does not shed tears lightly, but only when he is truly heartbroken. Thinking of his months of struggle, even a man as resilient as him couldn't help but cry. He had come to this desolate place from the headquarters to try to change his fate, but reality had dealt him a harsh blow.

To counter the Deep Sea Fleet, he needed a strong fleet. To have a strong fleet, he needed to either defeat the Deep Sea Fleet and bring them back to the base for decontamination, or use a machine like this to summon shipgirls wandering in the deep sea.

Because it often consumed various resources, this method of summoning was called construction. To get rare or powerful fleets, one had to perform large-scale construction.

That is, to put up a significant amount of resources to gamble on one's future.

The man had struggled for half a year and ended up with a group of... indescribable shipgirls.

"Plan Ship 110, Central Design Ship 1, Central Design Ship 2, Montana, do any of these names sound like famous historical ships? The only one I managed to bring back from the deep sea, the Enterprise, is either brainwashed or something. She's full of ideas, and just looking at her gives me a headache!"

"She's a rebel, a rebel! I really want to talk to her! Which aircraft carrier is faster than a battleship? Which aircraft carrier goes deep into enemy territory and fights harder than anyone else? She's just a replica, but she seems to have more ideas than the original!"

"Commander, actually, Enterprise is really..."

"I don't care what you say, this time I'm betting everything! If I lose, I'll never bet again! What does an African need to bet on ships for? Just go hunting!"

Ignoring the girl's subtle expression behind him, the man, with red eyes, waved his hand and threw the last ten rapid-summoning red flamethrowers into the machine, then punched the red button on the machine.

A sharp, electrical sound rang out, and the old machine, different from the local ones, creaked as it slowly swallowed the resources from the material storage, then displayed a large '8XXX' on the partially broken screen before quickly fading away.

Seeing the large '8' on the screen, the man felt his heart skip a beat.

Eight? Eight what? Is it the Yamato that the forum says appears after eight hours?

Indeed, luck is a constant; it can't be bad forever!

The man couldn't help but look expectantly at the large door, which began to hum and glow, as if nurturing something extraordinary. The old, broken machine gradually emitted a rainbow-like luster.

It's Yamato! It must be Yamato!

Seeing the shadow that gradually appeared in the light, holding a large umbrella, the man's heart began to race, and a joy he couldn't describe filled his heart.

Finally, I won't be mocked by those European commanders on the forum! Finally, I won't have to feel sorry for myself as an African commander!

Now I have Yamato too!

But the man, in his excitement, didn't notice the increasingly desperate expression on 110's face behind him.

"Commander, this time you didn't draw Yamato either..."

Faced with the familiar aura, the secretary girl couldn't help but shed tears for her commander's fate.

For other ships, 110 couldn't be sure, but for ships in her series, she was very clear. Her prematurely deceased sister, like her, was part of the final combat plan. The familiar aura was definitely not the Yamato the commander wanted, but another ship, like her, that shouldn't have appeared.

Finally, the machine's rumbling gradually stopped, and the light covering the door gradually faded. Seeing the woman in a beautiful twelve-layered kimono, holding a gorgeous oil-paper umbrella, the commander's smile froze.

It's cherry blossoms.

The moment the girl stepped out of the door, a layer of illusory cherry blossoms fell around her.

In the pale pink flower rain, the girl's already stunning beauty became even more breathtaking. Like something that shouldn't exist in this world, the beautiful girl, holding a flower umbrella, smiled at the man.

"Are you the commander?"

Faced with the dazed commander, the girl in the twelve-layered kimono smiled and elegantly bowed deeply to her chosen master.

"Nice to meet you, I am Plan Ship 111, the sister of Plan Ship 110. My nickname is... Oh? Sister is here too? That's great, the family is reunited. Eh? Commander, what's wrong? Why are you bleeding? Help! Commander is dying!"

*Note: "African" refers to someone who is extremely unlucky.