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Chapter 2 of 10

Chapter 2

7 min read1,730 words

I had heard that there was an official website for "Guardian Troopers," but I had underestimated it, thinking it was just a site for introducing the game.

I had no idea that you could do real shopping with score points.

The items available for purchase are limited to game-related goods, but since they are not available elsewhere, they can be auctioned off for a high price. Even a pilot card strap case, which can be bought for 5,000 points, is being auctioned for around 8,000 yen. This is practically legal alchemy in the modern age. I shouldn't have been content with just playing for free.

I decided to try buying a few items and putting them up for auction. Even if there were no bidders, I wanted these items for myself, so there was no risk.

The dedicated headset cost 240,000 points. Buying it would use up almost all the score points I had accumulated. Although it is auctioned for around 100,000 yen, the strap is a lower-risk option if you want to earn money steadily.

But I ended up buying it. I wanted it, and I wanted to see what it would be like to use the headset in the game. If I didn't like it, I could always auction it off and get real money, so I wouldn't lose anything, probably.

The items I ordered arrived the next day via courier. I went to the delivery center in the middle of the night to pick them up after seeing the notice of absence.

After unboxing, I took pictures of all the items and listed them online, finishing around 5:00 AM. I was surprised at where this energy came from.

Despite staying up all night, I was able to work energetically at the office. Thanks to this mysterious energy, I felt like I could work all day. I was excited to use the headset, and I couldn't help but feel like a kid again.

By the time it was overtime, I was so exhausted that I fell asleep. The noisy managers were still not gone, and since a colleague died from overwork last year, napping during overtime is now tacitly accepted, so there was no problem.

After a 30-minute nap, my head was clear. It was time to head out. I eagerly went to the arcade.

I got into the cabinet and took out a 500-yen coin from my wallet and inserted it. I had been playing with score points recently, so this felt somewhat fresh.

I took out the dedicated headset from my bag and connected it to the cabinet with a cable. When I put it on, a reticle appeared on the LCD lens of the goggles. It was touching, even though it was expected.

"Starting initial adjustment of the display site system. Please look at the cross in the center of the screen."

The clear voice of the navigator AI, Betty, was heard in my ear. It seemed that the goggles also had built-in speakers. This was a good purchase, wasn't it?

The initial adjustment was completed in a few seconds, and the LCD display became clear.

First, I decided to play a safe CPU battle, Stage 1. How would the dedicated headset feel?

The goggles' frame clearly narrowed my field of vision, which was a disadvantage. However, in actual combat, it didn't bother me as much as I thought it would. A wider field of vision is always better, though.

Wearing the headset made my head movements and the robot's head unit movements more accurately synchronized. For a machine with a head vulcan, this would be a big advantage, but my Links doesn't have that option, so I couldn't test it.

The compatibility with the fire control system seemed good, but since I don't use the shooting mode at all, it was meaningless for me.

The Links is specialized for close combat, so it doesn't have a built-in fire control system.

I felt that the balance of the machine was a bit easier to maintain than usual, but maybe it was just a placebo effect?

I play with the BGM off to avoid missing any sounds around me, but the realism of the battlefield sounds coming from the goggles' built-in speakers was incredible. This was a significant advantage, even if it was subtle.

The effect of the goggles became more apparent in the battle with the crab mech in Stage 3. Being able to sense the presence of enemies behind me through sound was an advantage even in close combat. I decided to keep using it and not auction it off.

I managed to defeat the crab mech and clear Stage 3, and Stage 4 was a boss battle.

It wasn't the final boss, so it was probably a mid-boss. It was a multi-legged battleship. I had fought it several times but couldn't defeat it. It was the first enemy in CPU battles to use real weapons, especially guided missiles, which were troublesome.

To counter the missiles, it seemed that I should equip a decoy launcher pod. Decoys are rockets used as decoys. They are disposable and quite expensive, so I couldn't afford them. Being poor is tough.

Missiles can cause damage even if they don't hit directly. Even if I managed to avoid them and get close, a wall of machine gun fire awaited me.

Was it impossible to defeat this thing in close combat? My life gauge was already below half.

I reached for the eject button but had a sudden idea. I had forgotten about the internal weapon, the wire anchor. Could it be used in a situation like this? Tying a wire around the legs of a multi-legged giant mech to bring it down is a classic trope in movies. It was worth a try.

Holding the sword in one hand, I pointed my free left arm at the multi-legged battleship's leg. A simple reticle appeared on the goggles. It didn't seem to be locked on, but I could tell roughly where it would go. This simple setup was easier for me to use.

I launched the anchor, and it successfully stuck to the leg, but my plan didn't go as intended. When I reeled in the wire, my machine was pulled toward the enemy. The enemy was much heavier, so that was to be expected.

I couldn't even avoid the rain of bullets and found myself barely alive under the multi-legged battleship's belly.

Taking care not to be crushed by the giant legs, I disengaged the anchor. I wasn't being attacked, probably because the belly was a blind spot for the enemy's gun emplacements. This was a common pattern when you think about it.

I had discovered a safe zone. In the end, what I lacked was the courage to dive into the bullet curtain. It's just a game, so I shouldn't die, but my chicken heart was a problem.

With a safe zone, all I had to do was swing my sword. I started peeling off the belly armor.

The hard armor wore down my buster sword's blade quickly. It was a waste to use it for this task; a beam sword would have been more convenient.

With the time limit approaching, I decided to finish it off. I struck the exposed reactor with my sword and boosted away before the explosion. A beam gun would have been useful for destroying it from a safe distance, but only if I could hit it accurately.

Perhaps my playstyle of fighting with only a sword was too limiting. I had grown attached to the Links, so I didn't want to switch to another machine, but maybe I should practice shooting.

The Links doesn't have a built-in fire control system, but there are external options, and some sniper rifles have their own built-in fire control systems. The game is quite flexible with a bit of ingenuity.

In any case, it was my first time clearing Stage 4. Congratulations to me.

I received an item. Was there a first-clear reward? I remembered that I got the Links when I cleared Stage 2 for the first time. Maybe I get items on even-numbered stages?

The item was a weapon with a unique design. It looked like a large sword, but it could also be a gun.

Checking the information, I saw that it was a Links-exclusive sword. I was glad it wasn't a gun. I didn't know its value, but the word "exclusive" made me happy.

The Links was already in bad shape, but I could repair it with score points and challenge Stage 5. I also wanted to try out the new sword.

No, no, I shouldn't rush. I need to take a deep breath and think. Stage 5 is unknown territory, and I'm not used to the new weapon. I might end up breaking the new equipment right away.

For today, I decided to retreat. I would still get a survival bonus.

Back at my apartment, I checked the auctions. All the items were being bid on at high prices. Over 10,000 yen for a strap case? That's ridiculous. I hope it's not just a joke.

In player battles, you get 500 points even if you lose. So, for 5,000 yen, you can play 10 times and earn 5,000 points, no matter how bad you are. Why would a 5,000-point item be worth over 10,000 yen? The math doesn't add up. It's nice that it sells for a high price, but it leaves me feeling uneasy.

The bidding prices continued to rise, and in the end, over 50,000 yen was deposited into my account. This was too good to be true.

Working hard seemed a bit silly. Do I need to report the earnings to the tax office? I don't know, but I'll look into it later.

I don't expect this good deal to last forever, but I won't miss the opportunity in front of me. I'll use all my remaining score points to buy more items and put them up for auction again.

With this 50,000 yen, I can play 100 times. If I earn 7,000 points per play, that's 700,000 points, enough for 140 strap cases. If each strap case sells for 10,000 yen, that's a profit of 1.35 million yen.

This is too much, too much. I shouldn't be working 360 hours a month for a mere 180,000 yen.