Hikaru let go of his sweat-slick hand and stuck out his tongue. "I'm wiped. Good thing it was just one go—if that had lasted all day, I'd have lost my mind."
Repulse hugged him, heart aching. "If it was that rough, why didn't you warn us?"
"No danger—just pins and needles," Hikaru waved it off. Truth was, he hadn't known in advance either.
He glanced at the horn in his left hand. It felt lighter by more than half. The size hadn't changed, but that strange pull it had was gone.
Looked ordinary now—though, given where it came from, hardly "ordinary."
He passed the horn to Bismarck. "After this campaign, put it in the trophies gallery, with a full note on how we got it. It'll shine there—and so will your legend."
Bismarck smiled faintly, then looked to Vestal. "How do you feel?"
Vestal's whole body was flushed like she'd just stepped out of a steam bath. She clenched her little fists, thrilled. "It really says 100! I feel… incredible."
Helped into the big chair behind the desk by Repulse, Hikaru chuckled. Strictly speaking, the horn could have rocketed a level-1 shipgirl straight to 100; using it on someone already in the 70s was a bit "wasteful."
But he'd noticed something else—surplus power didn't just vanish. His body had absorbed it… somehow. Not the time to puzzle that out.
"Vestal, what's your Evasion now?"
She focused, eyes lighting up. "Base plus skill, 101. If I slot three Gold Motors, it's 131!"
A ripple of surprise swept the room; even Alaska, who'd just been sneaking a hand toward the horn on the table, froze.
Evasion 131? She could probably step through raindrops.
Hikaru pointed at the three smoke canisters on the floor. "Equip these."
Vestal did as told—swapped out the three Gold Motors and fitted the smoke gear.
She felt the surge and gasped. "Evasion… 146!"
The top dodgers in the port, Fantasque and Tashkent, only broke into the low 130s with a single motor equipped. Right now, Vestal had the best dodge in the fleet.
Vampire and California ran their hands up and down Vestal's sleeves and apron, practically drooling with envy.
Prince of Wales, though, frowned. "Vestal—what's your Anti-Air?"
Put on the spot, Hestia ducked her head, guilty as if she'd pinched something. "Only… forty-five…"
Prince of Wales looked to Hikaru. "Commander, whatever role you want her to play—at 45 AA, unless she has dedicated cover, she'll fold the moment the bombers come in."
Evasion and AA were two different games: dodge handled torps and shells; AA handled air raids.
AA 45 was paper-thin—"please bomb me" territory.
At 80, you were barely serviceable.
Over 120? That was divine AA. Missouri runs 108 bare; with food and tactics buffs she's in the "god-tier AA" bracket.
Vestal's 45, even at level 100, was still one word: fragile.
Bismarck seemed to catch where Hikaru was headed. "You mean to keep Vestal with the carrier group—Lexington's team?"
Hikaru nodded. "Exactly."
Vestal's AA was a weak point. Where was the strongest umbrella in the base? With the carriers: constant streams of six-star ace fighters to seize air superiority, plus Helena, Leipzig, and other escorts stacking AA when needed.
Tucked under Lexington, Vestal's shortcoming would be hidden in the best possible place.
Then Alaska squinted again. "But to what end? Burning that horn on a little repair ship… isn't that wasting it?" (She still half-suspected Hikaru was lying about the horn not breaking level caps.)
Such power—handed to a tender. A pity, right? …A tender?
Hikaru's smile deepened.
[End of Chapter]
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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