Chapter 107: This Is Not a Fight—It’s a Hunt Where the Predator Hunts the Prey
[Author's Note: I apologize for the late post. The scheduled posting time got shifted...]
Crimson Wing Union. From two battles and piecing together what I've heard from other players, I've come to understand that the true terror of that machine lies, for the most part, in the player's own skill. The irregular maneuvers enabled by those asymmetrically arranged boosters are movements that simply can't be dealt with in a robot game... That's the general consensus among the player base. In reality, the movements themselves aren't all that complex. But dealing with them while wearing the "coat" called a Nephilim—that's what makes it so incredibly difficult.
Sunraku: "Well, that's the defining feature of robot games, though."
Changing the subject: Oikatzo. There's a game category that guy's bad at. And that's robot games. Because robot games force you to filter your reactions, responses, and controls through the intermediary of a robot, they're similar to fighting games but fundamentally different. That's exactly why Katzo grumbles that fighting games where you pilot a robot aren't his specialty. And knowing that, I've beaten him senseless in robot games before... But the issue right now is Rust. As you can tell from her machine's armaments, her preferred range is short to mid-range. And yet her piloting skill—effortlessly dodging even long-range sniper fire—proves she doesn't reign as the absolute champion for nothing. But to put it another way: that means she, too, has to come at least within mid-range if she wants to beat me.
Sunraku: "Either way, as long as that Mold guy is with her, winning with Kingfisher is going to be tough."
From what I've heard, that player Mold is what you'd call an operator. Even in this morning's match, he was apparently feeding Rust information on my movements. Against a solo player who doesn't use a partner operator, sure—but with an extra set of eyes on me, the disruptive effect of my mobility is going to drop to half, maybe less. Being an underpopulated game, players with dedicated operators are a minority to begin with, but Mold is the one supporting the legend of Crimson Wing Union from the shadows.
Player: "Hey, Kingfisher. Take this."
Sunraku: "What's this?"
Player: "Battle records of Crimson Wing Union from the ranking matches. You're rematching her tomorrow morning, right? Use 'em for reference."
Sunraku: "...You sure?"
Player: "I'm a fan of yours. That Nephilim of yours... show us something stylish."
Sunraku: "It's a crab, though... Well, whatever. Look forward to tomorrow morning."
All the veteran players are, somewhere deep down, wishing to see the undefeated phoenix fall. After I defeated two of the current meta's top three—Heppoko Knight's King’s Gambit and Super Ballman's Ricochet Hound—all sorts of players brought me intel on Crimson Wing Union. Part of the reason they're supporting me, it seems, is that Rust has a policy of "never changing machines until she loses." A lot of players want to see her pilot something other than Crimson Wing Union.
Player: "It's not like she couldn't just use a different machine outside of ranking matches. But Rust has gotten stubborn about it and won't use anything but Crimson Wing Union. Her partner Mold was griping about it... And even as a boss character, you get sick of seeing the same thing over and over."
Another Player: "Yeah, yeah. Crimson Wing Union itself isn't even some insanely min-maxed build, but no one can beat it. Even Heppoko Knight built a hard counter specifically against Crimson Wing Union and still got absolutely thrashed."
Heppoko Knight: "Shut up! I still win against everyone except Tamao and Rust just fine!"
Player: "Honestly, it pisses me off a bit to pin my hopes on the former ranker-eater. But NephHolo right now is basically Rust versus every other player. If you're gonna fight her, we want you to aim for the win."
With the backing of the players on the rankings, I make my final adjustments. And the next morning, I'm waiting in the ruined city—modeled on a destroyed New York—for the signal to begin the battle.
Rust: "So that's Kingfisher... Sunraku's new machine."
Mold: "Machine name: Fiddler Crab. I think that's the English translation of 'Shiomaneki'? 'Fiddler' means violin player, and the way it moves its pincers looks like it's playing the..."
Rust: "Hairy crab or hermit crab, I don't care what it is. If that machine reflects the current meta, then maybe it can..."
Mold: "...Looks like they're calling us, too."
With a roar of destruction, one of the buildings collapses. In this game, at least, field objects don't crumble naturally. Much less a massive structure collapsing—that means only one thing: someone deliberately attacked it. It's a message. A declaration of war: I'm right here. Understanding that—and understanding the danger of an ambush—Rust heads toward the collapsing building.
Mold: "...There! Contact... It's Fiddler Crab!"
Rust: "Visual confirmed, too...!"
Mold: "Wh-What is that...? Is its right arm like, twice as big?!"
Rust: "...Type-6 Severing Scissor Unit [Bookmaker]. It's not a trash weapon, but it's definitely not something you mount on a middleweight machine."
Mold: "It's also loaded down with all sorts of other stuff. It almost looks like a heavyweight Nephilim."
The distinctions between lightweight, middleweight, and heavyweight can be gleaned from a Nephilim's height and equipment. For Rust—the strongest player in Nephilim Hollow—gleaning information about an opponent from their armaments is only natural.
(Right arm is Bookmaker. Legs are multi-stage propulsion jet legs... Left arm and back are hidden. Head... that's definitely...)
Compared to Kingfisher—streamlined and sharp—Fiddler Crab is bulky and squat. Nearly fused with its right arm is an enormous weapon unit. Bookmaker—according to its lore, an anti-super-massive-Nephilim weapon forcibly mounted onto a standard Nephilim—is, in Rust's estimation, a romance weapon: one-hit-kill class, delivered through wide-swinging motions. And if you're going to mount a romance weapon, the established pattern is that the machine is either built around a gimmick to make that romance work, or built to fully bring out the player's skill to make that romance a reality. And then there's the distinctive head unit, with its two antennae that, depending on how you look at it, resemble a crab's eyes. Just as Rust is about to dredge its true nature from her memory, Fiddler Crab moves.
Rust: "It vanished—!"
Mold: "Rust, optical camouflage! The contact's still there!"
Rust: "Engaging...!"
The head unit glows, and Fiddler Crab's entire body vanishes from sight. Mold's words tell her its true nature: an effect of "optical camouflage," visually erasing the Nephilim. Rust—grasping Fiddler Crab's approximate position from Mold's reports and her sensor readings—attacks with her gatling gun.
(With optical camouflage, you can track its position by its booster flares...!)
Rust: "There!"
A line of bullets is unleashed. They pass through where Fiddler Crab was, informing Rust that her target is already gone. But Rust isn't about to miss the effect-trail of jet legs flaring—flickering booster stutters, hidden within the gunfire's light, tracing a path that evades the gatling with minimal movement, drawing a squared-off C-shaped path. At the coordinates her sensors now indicate, she launches a melee attack. I see. That movement, certainly, isn't something an ordinary player could pull off. But Sunraku has underestimated Rust. Has underestimated Crimson Wing Union.
Rust: "Go back to the drawing board, Fiddler Crab...!"
Mold: "No—!"
Faster than her brain can process the word Mold blurted out—
All too easily, the mightiest phoenix was torn to pieces and cast to the earth.
Rust: "............Huh?"
A respawn marking defeat. Standing frozen in the entrance, Rust takes in the other players, just as stunned as she is by a match that was decided far too abruptly. But even that sight can't make her brain catch up.
Nephilim Hollow... In the dwelling place of the phoenix, the laughter of the fiddler crab echoes.