Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 70: Business Opportunities

Chapter 70: Business Opportunities

For the students, the military academy mecha tournament is all about competition. But for the business folks? It was a goldmine of opportunity.

Before Lyra even had a chance to reach out, Morrison was on the phone with her. "Boss, can I get an advance on my salary? I heard the mecha tournament just kicked off."

"You may not know this," Lyra replied with a hint of a smile, "but I’m actually competing this year." She could practically hear Morrison’s breath catch on the other end of the line. "Forget the salary advance. Instead, I’ll give you some funds to invest. You manage the operation, and I’ll cut you a ten percent commission afterward."

"Thanks for the trust, boss," Morrison said, clearly surprised. He was just getting used to working under this new boss, and now here she was, handing him a golden opportunity.

The moment he saw the amount she transferred, he realized his young boss was even more ambitious than he’d imagined.

"Lyra, Thierry and I are thinking of getting Mandy’s help with placing some bets. Want in?" Zinnia slung an arm over Lyra’s shoulder, grinning with confidence. "I’ve pooled together all my allowance to bet on our team and myself."

The sparkle in Zinnia’s eyes showed it wasn’t just about making money; she genuinely believed in herself.

"No thanks, I have my own plans," Lyra said after a pause. "But I’d recommend only betting on the team. Betting on yourself is a losing game."

"Why?" Zinnia asked, puzzled.

Lyra just gave her a knowing look.

Thierry sighed, stepping in to clarify. "Lyra’s saying that because she’s going to win the individual competition."

Zinnia and the head student exchanged a look, their excitement fading slightly. They quietly went to cancel their personal bets.

"Even Thierry isn’t confident?" one of them muttered.

"Doesn’t seem like it."

Mandy, overhearing, hesitated before offering a suggestion. "Maybe you should just bet on Lyra..."

Lyra’s match was first. She had five minutes to pick her mecha and weapons before entering the arena. Without hesitation, she chose the standard basic humanoid mecha, leaving all the equipment as is, and then clicked confirm.

The scene shifted to a D-Class mecha cockpit. The controls and visuals were so realistic, it was easy to see why this tournament had been running strong for nearly a century.

The match countdown began.

Her opponent, also in a humanoid mecha, had typed out a taunt on the match panel: "Which military academy are you from, little girl? Don’t cry when you lose."

As soon as the countdown hit zero, he gunned it, zigzagging toward her at top speed.

Lyra watched his moves closely on her screen and quickly entered commands. Her mecha smoothly switched from sword to shield, blocking his shots with pinpoint precision.

This guy clearly specialized in agility and long-range attacks—one arm equipped with a laser, the other with bullets, and a high-powered electromagnetic cannon strapped to his chest.

If that was his game, Lyra needed to close the distance.

Her fingers danced across the control panel, transforming her five-meter-tall mecha into a nimble, iron giant, darting around the battlefield with the shield held high.

The opponent was clearly wary of Lyra getting too close, constantly firing at her while keeping his distance. But despite his efforts to stay safe, each of his shots hit her shield squarely.

Then, with one perfectly timed shot from Lyra, his movement stumbled, throwing him off balance.

As he tried to recover, a massive sword appeared on his display, charging straight toward him. It sliced through the air with terrifying precision, stopping just five centimeters from his nose, right at the edge of his cockpit.

Though there was no real sound in the virtual world, the sight of that cold, gleaming blade up close made his heart race. His eyes went wide with shock.

In this tournament, if the cockpit sustained enough damage, the system would automatically declare a loss. Sure enough, the prompt to log out flashed before him. He removed his VR helmet, only to realize that his pants were embarrassingly wet.

Lyra secured her first victory, and her delicate looks paired with her petite frame quickly caught the crowd’s attention. She instantly became a rising star in the tournament.

"So, that’s the top scorer of NMA’s pre-training?" a lazy voice drawled from the spectator stands. "She looks like an underdeveloped dwarf."

"Grains, maybe you could be a bit more polite," replied a black-haired young man with glasses, his eyes scanning through a web page. "Nobody gave much thought to Lyra when she first joined, but she still managed to outperform Lieutenant Commander Whyte’s younger brother."

"Alright, maybe she’s got some skill, but luck had to play a part," Grains, the first speaker, replied lazily, draping himself over the railing like he had no bones.

"Grains, haven’t I told you not to judge people by appearances?" A tall, stern-looking young man finally spoke, his cold, commanding gaze forcing Grains to straighten up, albeit with reluctance.

"Yeah, Captain, you’re right."

As the three continued their conversation, they began to leave the stands. When they passed Thierry, the black-haired young man gave him a slight nod and a polite smile before moving on.

Only then did Thierry loosen his grip on Zinnia’s hand.

"Why didn’t you let me go after them?" Zinnia fumed, her anger evident. "Didn’t you hear how they insulted Lyra?"

"I heard," Thierry replied, his brow furrowed. "First off, it’s three against two, and we’d lose. Second, starting a fight could get us disqualified."

But the most important reason was that in the face of true strength, their taunts were nothing more than empty words.

Though she accepted Thierry’s reasoning, Zinnia’s anger simmered beneath the surface. As soon as Lyra returned, Zinnia eagerly recounted everything those guys had said.

Lyra’s response was a simple, "Oh."

"Huh? Lyra, why aren’t you mad?"

"It’s easy—if someone uses their hands, you cut them off. If they have a sharp tongue, you slap their faces."

Zinnia could only look at her in admiration, speechless.

Thierry, however, wasn’t surprised. Her response was perfectly in line with her attitude. He then offered Lyra some intel on those guys. "They’re probably the S-Class freshmen from EPMA. That captain, Robin Calvin, supposedly scored ninety-five on the entrance exam. Like you, he’s already at level five."

Thierry didn’t expect much of a reaction, but to his surprise, Lyra asked, "Is he from the Calvin family, the Marquis of Roses?"

"I heard he was raised on an alien planet and only brought back for college."

"I know who he is."

’Wait, wasn’t I just explaining it to you?’ Thierry sometimes struggled to keep up with how fast her mind worked.

In this elimination-style tournament, their team breezed through the rounds, dominating the squad matches with ease.

...

The tournament was held every weekend, and it quickly became one of the hottest topics across the Alliance.

After a month of intense competition, the third round wrapped up.

Zinnia came running up to Lyra and Thierry, her opticomputer in hand and a huge grin on her face. "We’re all top contenders in the individual rankings, and our team made it onto the leaderboard too!"

She was so excited that she started jumping up and down, dragging Thierry along with her in her enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, Lyra was more focused, her eyes scanning through the profiles of other contestants.

She noticed that the rankings were driven by a mix of audience votes and official performance metrics. The key factors included how quickly players finished their matches, their rankings within their respective military academies, and any notable achievements they had in online mecha tournaments.

"Based on my match data and my school ranking, I shouldn’t be ranked this high," Lyra said thoughtfully, trying to figure out what she was missing.

Zinnia and Thierry exchanged glances, then turned to stare at Lyra.

"Hm?" she asked, noticing their looks.

"Lyra, are you seriously not aware of how good-looking you are?" Thierry asked, half in disbelief.