Fated to Die to the Player, I'll Live Freely with My SSS-Class Ship!-Chapter 43: Hide and Seek

Tractor beams on ships typically worked only on non-living objects. If a living being was detected within its range, the "suction force" would be significantly reduced—this was not a bug, but a security feature.

After all, without such a limiter, kidnappings using high-powered tractor beams would be a rampant problem across the universe.

Previously, we also used this tractor beam to pull us in while a Detonid was chasing us. However, back then, we were wearing powered suits that hid our vitals from the beam’s sensors. Thus, the beam didn’t detect us as "living beings" and pulled us with full force—this one’s a bug or an exploit discovered by hardcore players like me long ago.

Of course, there were illegally modified versions of tractor beams that didn’t differentiate between cargo and people. But only criminals or pirates used that kind of tech—not legitimate ships like mine.

{Hang on tight!}

Eva’s voice crackled through the radio as she carefully pulled us in with the beam. She was being careful with it, taking her time. Thankfully, there was no need to rush.

Especially since, just moments ago, the entire underground sewer system had become an evil terrorist, taking a good portion of the city with it in one big bang. The explosion was devastating—tens of thousands likely perished instantly, with countless more injured.

As for the "police" that had been chasing us? Most likely gone. Vaporized in the inferno they themselves triggered.

With such destruction, the city’s entire security force—police, military, and whoever else wanted me dead—was undoubtedly in shambles. It should take time for them to regroup.

For now, things were relatively safe.

The tractor beam finally finished reeling us in, and as soon as the hatch sealed shut, I collapsed onto the cargo hold’s floor, heaving deep breaths, trying to manage the pain.

When I finally got a good look at myself, I grimaced. I was wrecked.

My suit was half-destroyed, parts of it melted into jagged, bloody sections. The explosive impact alone had probably left my bones riddled with microfractures—if not fully snapped. Moving felt like my nerves were set on fire, agonizing.

But more than myself, I was worried about Cassandra.

She still had her spacesuit protecting her, but her helmet was already gone when we picked her up. After that blast, there’s no telling how bad the concussion she suffered was.

"Arthur! Are you alright?!"

Eva burst into the cargo hold, eyes wide with genuine concern—no ulterior motives, no teasing, just pure worry.

Her left arm was moving freely now, meaning she must’ve popped her dislocated shoulder back into place herself. A badass move, sure, but one that suited her perfectly.

"Eva... Take Cassandra to the medical pod. Now." My voice was firm, urgent.

Damage to the head, or brain, could be deadly, and Cassandra could not die here. If she did, then the events of Chapters 12 to 15 would become—conservatively speaking—absolute hell. The approaching "dead end" scenario would be all but set in stone.

Eva’s brow furrowed. "What about you?!"

Updat𝓮d from freewēbnoveℓ.com.

Her reaction made sense. I looked like I had just lost a fight with a plasma grenade. But as bad as it was, my condition wasn’t life-threatening.

At worst, I was experiencing a pain level comparable to a Schmidt Sting Pain Index Level 4—searing, inescapable agony that could shatter focus and tip someone into unconsciousness.

I forced a smile—though it ended up looking more like a pained grimace. "I’m fine. Let her use the pod first." My voice didn’t waver, which was crucial—I needed to sound convincing.

Eva hesitated, but in the end, she scooped Cassandra up and sprinted out of the room. With a deep breath, I pulled myself up and started dragging my battered body toward the cockpit.

At the moment, the Range Falcon was on autopilot. Since breaking through the atmosphere without sitting properly in the cockpit was risky for those onboard, Eva had programmed the ship to hover at a stable acceleration of 2G, randomly roaming around.

But that was a problem.

Flying a 400-meter-long ship in low-atmosphere airspace was beyond being simply conspicuous. It was suspicious as hell.

’If we don’t leave soon, we’re getting shot down for sure.’

But reaching the cockpit was another issue entirely.

Four hundred meters was a long way to walk—especially in my condition. Every step sent fresh waves of pain through my body, like walking barefoot over shattered glass while being stabbed with red-hot needles.

’...Eh?’

Something pricked my shoulder. I blinked, glancing down to see a long, thick syringe sticking out of me.

"Stubborn show-off," Eva’s voice muttered beside me. "Just admit that you’re in pain."

I hadn’t even heard her sneak up—either she was being stealthy, or my senses were just that much of a wreck right now.

She emptied the syringe’s contents into my bloodstream, and within moments, my body started to recover at a rapid pace. The medical nanomachines got to work, reading information from my DNA and repairing the damage my body suffered.

Burned skin flaked away and was replaced by fresh tissue. Major internal bleeding was stopped. The microfractures in my bones began sealing themselves.

Of course, the deeper injuries would take longer—around thirty minutes for a full recovery. But the agonizing, mind-numbing pain? Gone, reduced to a dull ache.

"...Thanks," I muttered, meaning it. "But we need to get to the cockpit. Things aren’t over yet."

Eva yanked the syringe out, slapped my shoulder hard, and smirked. "Alright, big boy. Let’s go!"

She threw my arm over her shoulder and started leading me forward. I could have walked on my own, but rejecting a sincere offer to help would be rude. With each step, various parts of our bodies rubbed against each other...

Of course, I don’t intend to tell her that I was intentionally limping, intensifying the rubbing of our bodies. I was planning to take advantage of her rare show of "kindness" and enjoy it for much longer.

---

"Thrusters, check. Inertia shields up. All systems are green!"

As soon as we reached the cockpit, we moved to our stations automatically—Eva working fast to prepare the ship for atmospheric exit.

"Got it," I responded, one hand gripping the manual control sticks while the other flew across the control panel. "Activating energy shields—output at 50%. Pitch-over maneuver set."

With all systems ready, I gripped both control sticks and floored the pedals.

At 900 kilometers above the surface, we didn’t need any major trajectory adjustments—just a clean, tangential ascent to break through the thick atmosphere. Following a parabolic trajectory, we performed a Gravity Turn—an energy-efficient method that let us use the planet’s gravitational pull to gain altitude without burning excessive fuel.

If all went well, we’d breach low orbit smoothly.

’But, of course, things never go that easily…’

Halfway through breaching the carbon-heavy atmosphere—where visibility was near-zero—our radar picked up multiple vessels approaching at high speed.

Although we were beamed up out in the open, there’s no way they knew we had the Princess onboard. They were likely just locking down the airspace, making sure no one escaped the planet. A crude but effective method to not let Cassandra escape.

"Weapon systems online," Eva announced. "Should we shoot them down?" Her voice was sharp—serious.

But that wasn’t an option. Firing on them would make us outlaws for sure, and the Range Falcon wasn’t exactly an anonymous vessel. It was a rare ship, with only a handful of copies across the universe. If we attacked, they’d connect the dots, exposing who we were.

"No. We can’t," I said flatly. But as an experienced player, I had contingencies for everything. "Percy, activate LV1 Stealth Module."

[Command received. Activating Stealth module… Complete.]

A grin tugged at my lips. This was one of the best finds from our black market "raid" long ago—though this is its first time being used properly.

With this active, only Level 3 scanners—found exclusively on battleship-class vessels or bigger—had any chance of detecting us. The smaller ships tailing us? They immediately lost their targets.

Through the radar feed, we watched them stop at the last known position of our signal, clearly confused.

But we didn’t wait around for them to figure it out. The stealth module only masked us from scanners—it didn’t make us invisible to the naked eye. Luckily, the thick atmosphere worked in our favor, limiting visibility to only what was directly in front of them.

"Altitude at 15,000 kilometers," Eva reported. "Thirty seconds away from reaching low orbit—24,500 kilometers!"

Once we breached the atmosphere, we could escape at full speed. But that also meant exposure. No more sensor obstructions, no more atmospheric interference—just us in open space, visible to anyone looking.

A double-edged sword.

Which meant we needed a distraction.

I sighed. "Guess we have no choice…" My fingers danced over the console. "Percy, switch weapon systems to manual control."

Eva shot me a suspicious look. "You just refused to fire earlier. What are you planning now?"

I grinned, tightening my grip on the controls. "Relax. I’m not killing anyone." A glint sparked in my eyes. "But… a moon or two might vanish."

With a swipe across the interface, I deactivated all weapons except for the one up front—the "repaired" Brionac.

Then, I brought up the VBA Module’s targeting display. A map of Baltheves-402’s many moons appeared—hundreds in total.

I selected fifteen within range. Then narrowed it down to one—the furthest, but still in our firing arc. Adjusting the reticles, I locked on.

"Target acquired…" I muttered. The Brionac whirred, energy building.

And then—

"Brionac! Fire!"

A brilliant, prismatic beam ripped through the thick atmosphere, piercing straight toward the moon. The impact was instantaneous—but it didn’t just leave a searing hole.

The Brionac was a beast.

The moment the laser struck, the moon exploded. Not into chunks, not into debris, but into countless fragments, scattering like a shattered glass bead.

And all of those fragments?

They followed their natural trajectory—falling straight toward the planet below. A massive, planet-wide meteor shower.

That should keep everyone too busy to look for us.

But before I could pat myself on the back, Eva removed her straps and stood up, grabbing me by the collar, and yanked me up, fury blazing in her eyes.

"You bastard!" she shouted, voice raw with rage. "My mother is down there…!"

…Ah.

That completely slipped my mind.