Fated to Die to the Player, I'll Live Freely with My SSS-Class Ship!-Chapter 49: Stealth and Payback!

About five minutes later, I returned to the main console, my fingers dancing over the controls with a feverish urgency. Within moments, a new yellow dot flickered onto the Star Map—marking Prince Leobert’s current position.

I grinned. No way in hell would I stay on the receiving end in this fucking game.

The moment these "unregistered guests" stepped aboard the Range Falcon, the ship’s hidden defense system silently sprung into action. Nano-sized tracking bots, no larger than specks of dust, dispersed into the air, clinging onto the metallic clasps and armor plates of their uniforms. The prince’s men were practically walking beacons now, whether they knew it or not.

Detection? Not a chance. These weren’t just ordinary spy drones—they were OB Nexus 1000 Stealth Nanobots, an item from the game that was so overpowered, so blatantly broken, that players often debated whether it was a feature or a bug.

During large-scale battles, skilled players would attach these bots to enemy commanders, tracking them in the chaos of war. A single strike team could then slip through the battlefield and end the opposition’s leadership in one clean assassination.

And right now, I have a prime target marked.

I could end this here. If I wanted, I could use this intel to kill Prince Leobert, remove this cursed collar, and be done with it. But no. Not yet. Just like the "Crazy Princess," he was another key piece in this twisted game of fate—a necessary bastard for navigating the upcoming bad-end events.

"They’ve already set off," I murmured, watching his signal drift farther and farther from the Zuman Space Hub.

Of course, they weren’t careless enough to leave me completely unchecked. One of the prince’s royal guards had remained behind, his signal motionless—a watchdog keeping tabs on my every move.

"But that prince made a mistake—he’s underestimating me."

I swiped my personal terminal, selecting one of the OB Nexus bots attached to the lingering guard. With a single tap, I activated the custom Trojan Virus I had planted within the swarm.

From his perspective, nothing had changed. His visor wouldn’t flicker, and his sensors wouldn’t raise any alarms. But now? Now there was no way he could detect me.

I stepped away from the console, a sly grin tugging at my lips. Time to put it to the test.

Leaving the Falcon, I strode confidently toward the armored sentry, planting myself right in front of him with my hands at my waist.

No reaction.

I waved a hand in front of his visor. Nothing.

"Yep," I nodded to myself, thoroughly satisfied. "With this, he can no longer see or hear me and the girls, or detect changes on the ship!"

Temptation stirred within me. This was the same bastard who had punched and kicked me before. Playing a harmless prank wouldn’t be out of the question… but no. I held back. I could have fun after we made our escape.

Leaving the oblivious guard behind, I made my way back toward the bustling business district of the hub.

Finding the girls in this chaotic mess would be like searching for a needle in a haystack—but thankfully, we weren’t limited to mere eyesight.

I tapped my comms. "Eva?"

A small static crackled before her voice came through. {...Roger. We’ll be there in a minute.}

I hung up without another word and settled into place, arms crossed as I waited. But just as I was beginning to relax—cold steel pressed against the back of my neck.

"...!"

My muscles tensed on instinct, but I didn’t move. Instead, I slowly raised both hands in surrender.

"You bastard…" The voice behind me was familiar.

A familiar irritation. A familiar sharpness.

"You’re lucky you’re still in one piece after being taken away," the voice continued. "But what’s that thing around your neck? Some kind of accessory to fit your twisted sense of fashion?"

A breath of relief escaped my lips. Lowering my arms, I turned around at a measured pace.

"You’re one to talk about fashion," I shot back with a smirk. "It’s not like you’re any bett—"

But my words died in my throat.

I blinked.

I blinked again.

Who the hell were these two?

For a moment, I didn’t recognize them. Their entire aura had changed. Was this Eva’s handiwork? I suddenly felt embarrassed for even attempting to question her sense of style earlier.

Eva looked… sharp. Refined. Almost dangerously elegant. Dressed in sleek, dark tones that perfectly contrasted her pale skin, she exuded the air of a ruthless executive—a cold, untouchable beauty that demanded attention. But it was her neon-green hair, cascading smoothly over her shoulder, that sealed the transformation. It changed her completely, like a well-crafted illusion.

And then there was Cassandra.

Her outfit was a striking blend of punk and modern chic, bold yet strangely balanced. While the amount of exposed skin might’ve come off as provocative on someone else, there was something about the way she wore it—confident, indifferent—that made it seem more effortless than showy.

"You two…" I muttered, glancing around. "You should’ve at least tried to stand out less."

As expected, nearly ninety percent of the men walking by—and even a good half of the women—were stealing glances at them. Some stares were filled with admiration, others with more questionable intent.

Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if some idiot tried to ask them out on the spot.

But Eva, ever composed, shrugged. "They know what’s coming for them if they try to mess with us, so it doesn’t matter."

Ah. That explained the subtle fear mixed into the gazes around us.

Someone did try to flirt with them, huh? And judging by Eva’s tone, the poor bastard met with an unfortunate "accident."

"...Well, not that it matters." I sighed, shaking my head. "Let’s get back to the ship. We have no time to waste."

Right now, we are in a race against time.

The only question was: Would the mysterious backer—who’s after our little princess—corner us before we could reach the Kariki Star System?

---

On the way back, the two girls suddenly stopped in their tracks, their gazes locked onto a familiar figure clad in blue armor standing ahead. Eva turned to me with a questioning look, and in response, I flashed her a confident grin.

As if putting on a show, I strode right up to the armored guard and began making exaggerated faces at him—sticking out my tongue, waving my hands, even pretending to smack him upside the head.

Not even a twitch.

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With growing curiosity, Eva and Cassandra inched closer, staring at the motionless sentry. Still no reaction.

Eva’s expression darkened slightly, realization dawning in her eyes. She knew I had done something to him. Her lips parted, likely to scold me—but then she hesitated, her brows furrowing.

She didn’t realize it yet, but even if she spoke, he wouldn’t hear a thing.

"You two go first," I murmured, keeping my voice low. "I still have some unfinished business with this dumbass."

Eva eyed me for a moment but ultimately sighed. "...Don’t take too long." Without further questions, she grabbed Cassandra’s wrist and dragged her along, disappearing into the Range Falcon.

Given the time they’d need to change into their spacesuits, I estimated they’d take at least ten minutes. More than enough time to wrap things up.

I tapped into my personal terminal, reaching out to a certain individual—a contact who had once told me to contact him if I got into trouble in this station. A brief message was all it took.

Now, with that settled… I flexed my fingers, stretching my knuckles.

"Alright," I exhaled, rolling my shoulders. "Time to release some steam!"

The royal guards’ full-body armor was impressive—completely enclosed, reinforced against physical blows, and equipped with environmental support systems. But invincible? Not quite.

I moved behind the motionless man, zeroing in on a vulnerable point—his life support system. A few critical tubes were exposed just enough to be tampered with. With a swift motion, I severed them.

Then, I took a few steps back and waited.

Sure enough, after about thirty seconds, the guard stiffened. His body tensed, his head twitching side to side in growing panic. His sensors had likely started screaming warnings at him—his oxygen supply was depleting.

As realization dawned, he frantically reached for his helmet’s emergency release. And that’s exactly what I was waiting for.

With a sharp hiss, his helmet disengaged, revealing his face.

"Hi~" I greeted cheerfully, flashing a grin.

His eyes went wide with shock. To him, I had just appeared out of nowhere. One moment, he was alone—the next, I was grinning at him like a ghost that had popped into existence.

Before he could react, my hand shot forward, taser gun aimed point-blank at his face.

*Click*

The metal prongs fired, piercing into his cheek, anchoring themselves deep. Then came the shock. An intense electric current surged through his body, sending violent spasms rippling through his limbs. His eyes rolled back, foam bubbling at the corners of his mouth.

A second later, his smoking, unconscious body crumpled forward. Still breathing. Not dead.

I crouched down, fingers skimming along his suit until I found what I was looking for—the eject function.

With one press, and with a mechanical hiss, the suit forcefully disengaged, launching the man a solid two meters into the air before he hit the ground, rolling a few feet away. Now stripped down to nothing but his boxers, he lay there—face down—his chest faintly rising and falling.

Perfect.

I grabbed his limp hand, pressing it against the clasp of the collar around my neck.

*Ping*

With a sharp chime, the collar unlocked, clicking open before slipping off my neck entirely.

"You think I wouldn’t figure out how this thing works?" I muttered, shaking my head. "I’m someone who knows all items in TSO by heart!"

Not wasting time, I reset the collar’s security settings—to my own biometric data. Then, with a satisfied smirk, I clasped it around his neck instead.

Still… that wasn’t quite enough.

I nudged his unconscious form with my foot, flipping him onto his back. Then, without hesitation—

Five punches to the face. Ten to the chest. And one direct kick to the groin.

"Phew…" I exhaled, wiping my brow while admiring the bloody scene before me. "That works wonders!"

Feeling considerably better, I gathered up the discarded blue armor and hauled it back to the Range Falcon’s cargo bay. Once securely stowed, I sealed the ship completely.

Turning my attention to the security cameras, I watched as a familiar figure appeared—Neardin, head of Zuman Space Hub security. He sighed in irritation before grabbing the unconscious man by the arm and dragging him off.

After all, the message I sent had been simple: a half-naked drunkard was passed out in front of our dock. No need for unnecessary details.

As for what would happen to him when Prince Leobert returned? Not my problem.

Ten minutes passed. Eva and Cassandra finally arrived at the bridge, now dressed in matching spacesuits—the same spare ones Eva had kept onboard.

They strapped themselves in their seats without a word, the weight of urgency still pressing down on us. I turned to face them.

"Alright," I said with a grin. "Let’s wrap up these small quests and get the hell out of here!"