Now that the moment had come, even Hikaru couldn't help but feel anxious.
Before he could dwell on it, Shiraha jabbed him in the side and winked. "It's your turn."
After submitting his ID at the verification desk, signing a stack of consent forms, and handing over his 1++ resource card, Hikaru was given a number plate marked 777.
That was his assigned construction position.
Each of the four core resources—fuel, ammo, steel, and aluminum—was set to 999 units. This was currently considered the "universal formula" for shipgirl construction. To participate in Sacred Construction Day, one had to present a 1++ resource card, worth a full one million yuan.
Only during this ceremony were such restricted resources made available to the public. Each participant could only buy one, and it had to be used on-site. Any unused materials would be refunded at full price.
Hikaru waited by the side until Shiraha got her number plate as well. Then he remembered something. He pulled out a bank card and slapped it into her hand.
"That's the money for the resource card. Thanks—I owe you one."
Shiraha raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Since when were you rich?"
"Barely," Hikaru said. "That was all my savings."
Shiraha held the card and hesitated. "Even if you're resourceful, saving that much must've been hard. What if the construction fails...?"
Hikaru looked at her, then smiled brightly. "Heaven gave me talents for a reason. A fortune lost will come again!"
Shiraha grinned.
"Nice. That's the kind of boldness I admire. Then the debt's cleared—after all, you could've just bought the resource with this card directly. Now hold still, I'm gonna write the kanji for 'unique' on your face. Don't dodge. Come on, lean in."
She kept the card and reached out to draw on his face.
But Hikaru wasn't going to let her. He dodged left and right, evading her every attempt.
The chubby guy behind them in line wasn't impressed. He glared and gave a loud cough, prompting the two to quiet down.
Still blushing, Shiraha changed the subject. "What's this music? They always play it at these ceremonies, right? I think some shipgirl even performed it live on a radio show once?"
Shipgirls all had their own personalities and hobbies. Beyond their extraordinary combat power, they were just girls—each unique in their own way. Many had made names for themselves in other fields.
"'Colonel Bogey March.' Composed in the early 19th century by a British composer in the Old World. These days, it's known by a different name—'Miracles of Great Construction.'"
As they chatted, they entered the plaza.
Shiraha whistled along with the tune, while the chubby guy behind them jogged up with his number plate, grinning at Hikaru. "You really know your stuff. That's a song from thousands of years ago! Our prep class history teacher didn't even go into that much detail."
Shiraha snorted. "Your prep class probably just teaches you how to sweet-talk girls. Of course they don't cover real knowledge."
The chubby guy just laughed, not bothered in the slightest.
Commander prep schools drew in rich kids by teaching so-called ship-recruiting skills—basically, how to "sweet-talk" shipgirls, just as Shiraha said.
While most shipgirls were constructed by commanders, some could also awaken from purified deep-sea forms or emerge through chance events.
Those without a commander were called "drifting shipgirls." Convincing them to pledge loyalty was what they called ship salvaging.
The chubby guy seemed impressed by Hikaru's knowledge and began chatting with him about commander lore. He told the stories so well that even Shiraha got drawn in and started to relax.
His name was Saito Takao, and he didn't seem nervous at all. He pointed toward the small building at the edge of the plaza and started talking about the local celebrity of the moment—Junior Marshal Kamizawa and his shipgirl.
"Marshal Kamizawa is what we call a true-blue Salted Anchor. His luck's so bad it's baked into his soul. Twenty years now, and he still only has his starter shipgirl—William D. Porter. Can't even get her to change outfits. Wilhelmina herself said it! But look at where he is now, leading with just one destroyer. That tells you even a Salted Anchor can have his day!"
Shiraha nodded. "Marshal Kamizawa's level 80. That makes him a real heavyweight in a place like this. But I heard he worked so hard his hair fell out. Wears a wig now."
Hikaru smiled politely. Level 80? Is that supposed to be high? I was once past 140.
Up in the building, Kamizawa set down his thermos of goji tea and turned to glare at Wilhelmina.
"You've got nerve, Wilhelmina. Crossdressing?! I have never crossdressed! I sent you out to give a good lecture and you betray me again! Everyone, don't believe her nonsense! I, Kamizawa, have never crossdressed!!"
By the end, Kamizawa was practically shouting, veins bulging at his temple.
The other officials averted their eyes. They didn't have his kind of hearing, but from the way he was reacting, they could guess what had been said.
Kamizawa looked around, his face pleading.
The governor turned away and waved a hand. "So what if you did? Even if it's true, who cares?"
Colonel Nagatake nodded. "Marshal Kamizawa definitely didn't crossdress. Nope. Never heard anything like that."
Everyone chimed in with polite agreement, but Kamizawa only turned redder.
After a moment of stiff silence, he shook his head. "I'll go check on the plaza. I'll leave this place to you all."
With that, he hurried down the stairs—tripping halfway and nearly falling.
Wilhelmina followed behind, still clutching the thermos.
Moments later, muffled laughter echoed from the building.
…
Down in the plaza, the participants had taken their positions. Hikaru stood before the resources at his designated number.
Fuel, ammo, steel, and aluminum—1,000 units of each, making a total of about one cubic meter.
Though called "fuel" and "steel," these weren't ordinary materials. For example, "steel" referred to Old World shipwreck salvage that still bore the imprint of lost warships. Regular steel was useless. The same applied to the other materials.
Clearly, no matter how many ships had sunk three thousand years ago, it wasn't enough to supply this many constructions.
Most of these resources came from purified Abyssal shipgirls. Thanks to corruption, the supply was effectively endless—but only if shipgirls could mine the deep sea through "expeditions."
The host began explaining the construction procedure.
It was simple: place your hand on the resources, enter a meditative state, and allow your thoughts to clear. If you had the right affinity for supernatural energy, you would begin to resonate with the memory of steel. If not, you'd fail here.
Most military cadets and prep school students had already been tested for affinity beforehand.
Hikaru was confident in his supernatural energy affinity. He placed his hand on the resource container, gave Shiraha a thumbs-up, and then turned to face forward, closing his eyes and steadying his breath.
Slowly, his thoughts quieted.
Then suddenly, a vision flashed in his mind—and the resources beneath his hand began to vaporize into shimmering light.
From a distance, Kamizawa raised an eyebrow and nodded, making note of Hikaru's number.
That fast? Could this kid be one of those lucky bastards?
Rapid transformation didn't guarantee a rare shipgirl, but it did show an excellent match with supernatural energy.
What Kamizawa couldn't see was the old, seemingly broken phone in Hikaru's pocket—its screen had just lit up, automatically launching a game app.
The phone flickered in time with the glowing resources, until it dissolved into pure light and merged into Hikaru's palm, shooting straight into his mind.
A wave of cold surged through his brain. Hikaru shuddered and opened his eyes.
The 1++ resources had vanished completely. In game terms, he'd used the 999×4 formula. That kind of cost wasn't supposed to summon anything weak.
He wasn't sure how long he'd wandered through the memory of steel. But he remembered the final image—a tiny, thousand-ton destroyer charging through smoke at a ten-thousand-ton heavy cruiser. A hopeless struggle. Like an ant charging a war elephant.
There was no shipgirl in sight.
Hikaru's heart tightened.
Had he… failed to summon one?...