Chapter 138 – Shelling the Commander – Missouri’s Blunder

Unlike Vampire, California wasn't just scared—she was also furious at herself for being useless.

When the shell came flying right at them earlier, California had been frozen in fear, completely unable to move. In contrast, Tirpitz and Lexington had risked everything to shield Hikaru with their own bodies.

Compared to their courage, California only hated her own helplessness more.

She wanted Hikaru to call her "big sister," and yet, when it truly mattered, this so-called big sister had been completely useless. Utterly shameful.

Hikaru, however, hadn't realized she was blaming herself so harshly. After soothing Vampire for a while, and seeing that Yat Sen and Lexington had finished hugging it out, he finally asked, "Yat Sen, who was attacking us just now in the command center? And why were you at the base?"

Yat Sen gently released Lexington's hand, then glanced at Vampire still in Hikaru's arms. A hint of envy flashed in her eyes—those girls could cling to the Commander without a second thought, unlike her...

She caught herself drifting off in thought and quickly answered the question.

"I'm not sure either. I suddenly appeared in the mess hall, and I thought it was one of Changchun's pranks."

Hikaru nodded. Changchun was the shipgirl of a Chinese guided missile destroyer. Historically, she had been the Soviet Gnevny-class destroyer Reshitelny, later transferred to China and renamed Changchun after extensive refitting.

He didn't expect that girl to be the type who played pranks on Yat Sen. Hikaru had always imagined her as a vodka-chugging, potato-munching Russian tomboy shouting "Comrade!" at everyone she saw.

Putting thoughts of Changchun aside, Hikaru turned his gaze toward the command building.

"How odd. So then—who was the one that attacked us just now?"

Disaster!

She'd just fired on the Commander!

She nearly killed him with that shot—an offense of cosmic proportions!

Inside the command room, a tall, mature woman with chestnut hair paced anxiously while hugging a clipboard.

She wore a gray-and-white naval uniform, with long legs and a commanding aura—elegant, poised, and carrying the cool, sharp beauty of a career military woman. But now, she was like an ant on a hot pan, frantically pacing in circles. All that dignity had evaporated.

If Hikaru had seen her, he would've recognized her instantly.

She was none other than the shipgirl Missouri, a battleship of American origin and one of the strongest warships stationed at the base—personally appointed by Hikaru as his secretary ship.

And the clipboard in her arms? No ordinary document. It was a replica of the Japanese Instrument of Surrender—the one that had been signed on the deck of the real USS Missouri, marking the end of World War II.

That momentous piece of history had become part of Missouri's equipment, one of her powers.

But right now, Missouri was flipping through that document like it was junk paper. Then, with a loud slam, she smacked it onto the desk and collapsed into the Commander's chair, burying her head in her hands, trembling.

No power in the world could save her now.

Earlier, Missouri had just been lazing around the command room. There wasn't even any real work to do—she was simply waiting for the Commander to enter the dream world and return to the base to chat with everyone. As his secretary ship, she always stood by ready to "serve"—even if there wasn't much actual serving involved.

The command room wasn't exclusive to Missouri either. Ever since she was assigned as secretary, she'd practically made the room her personal bedroom. And plenty of other shipgirls would crowd in too, turning it into more of a hangout space than an office.

After all, Hikaru always dream-entered right into this room, so everyone wanted to be the first one he'd see.

That was what made this so strange.

Missouri clearly remembered: just a moment ago, she'd been talking with Veneto. Veneto was sulking because some destroyers had drawn her in a kids' chalk mural as one of them.

Then suddenly—everyone was gone.

The dozens of shipgirls in the command room, those wandering in the halls—vanished. Missouri had looked out the window and seen the entire base completely deserted.

She nearly had a heart attack.

At first, she suspected a prank. But who would dare? Besides that muscle-brained Hindenburg, no one had the guts to mess with her—and even against Hindenburg, Missouri usually came out on top.

So she assumed it must be an Abyssal trap and stayed on high alert, ready to counterattack at any moment.

When she detected unfamiliar shipgirls inside the base, Missouri didn't hesitate—she immediately launched her strongest strike. As one of the base's top-tier battleships, she had the power to deliver decisive, one-shot kills.

Unlike Tirpitz, whose power commanded the storms, Missouri's ability focused on locking onto an enemy leader and delivering an unimaginably powerful, lethal blow.

That ability had earned her countless medals. Whenever they fought the Abyssals, she could reliably snipe the enemy flagship's head off with one clean shot, gaining high praise from the Commander.

Which only made her want to cry harder now. Because just moments ago, she had nearly used that same one-shot power to blow off the Commander's head.

Even if Hikaru forgave her, the hole in the wall of the command room didn't lie. Through it, she could see the entire base in ruins.

She didn't know how Hikaru had materialized the base in this strange realm, but that shot had already destroyed a third of it.

Wuwuwu… Missouri was beyond regret. She wanted to die from shame.

Before she could figure out a solution, Hikaru's voice rang out from the square in front of the command building:

"Who's inside the command center?"

[End of Chapter]

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